“Trying to play sweet with me now, are you?” He grasped my chin, giving my face a little shake. “You’ll have to try harder than that, baby. Jason is a brat too. I know how you work.”

I tweaked an eyebrow at him in surprise, irritated that he’d seen through me so easily. “Jason? A brat? Mister Straight-A’s with a nice Christian upbringing? I doubt that.”

“When he ate your pussy in the garage, did it feel like the way a good boy would eat it?” he said. The way his lips curved around those words had no business being so erotic. Thinking about Jason eating me out as the rest of them spanked me and fucked my mouth made me throb, my pussy getting far too greedy for her own good.

Every word he said was winding me up, and he smelled so good. I wanted to press my nose against him and inhale him into my lungs, run my tongue over his skin, taste the sweat and salt…

Damn it all, what was wrong with me? For the sake of my pride, I needed to put up at least a little resistance, but when he was looking at me like that…

What the hell was there to resist?

He laughed again as he laid his hand against my cheek. His humor came easily, and I liked the way he laughed — it sounded innocent and wicked all at once.

“Come on,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

He got out of the car, and the distance between us felt like a cruel effort to remind me who was in charge. Damn it, most people would have taken immediate, full advantage in that situation. I was practically fucking him with my eyes, yet he was still making me wait.

I came to join him in front of the car. The barn creaked softly around us; the rustle of the breeze through the grass and sweet birdsong creating a relaxing ambience. But as soon as I settled beside him, leaning against the car’s warm hood, I spotted something partially hidden in the shadows.

A massive painting covered the barn’s inner wall. I narrowed my eyes and stepped closer, surprised to find a mural of a dark, smiling clown. The character’s eyes bulged from their head, their mouth stretched into a wide, sharp-toothed grin as it stared down at me with one icy blue eye and one bright green.

“Wow…” I stepped even closer, brushing my fingers across the rough, weather-worn boards. Up close, I could see the varying shades of paint used to create depth, shine, and shadow. It was stunningly detailed. I glanced back at Vincent. “Did you paint this?”