Chapter 238 A Jerk With a Pedigree
Anastasia was left speechless following Elliot’s outburst. Where is all this jealousy coming from? I’m not his girlfriend, and nothing is going on between us, so why is he getting jealous of Oliver out of the blue? Is there even a point to this?
The lights brought out the defiant edge to her delicate features as she raised a brow at the man in front of her and pointed out sardonically, “Elliot, I think you have yet to reconcile with the fact that I can like or fall for someone without having to get your permission. What right do you have to butt into my personal life?”
However, little did she know that every one of her gestures and expressions only drew Elliot in deeper. Even the way she behaved like an agitated kitten was stroking and stirring his wildest desires.
A devious smirk curled on his lips as he drawled ominously, “True, you can choose to love whoever you want, but I can promise you that person will end up in the most unfortunate of situations. In the end, I’ll make sure all the men who think they have a chance with you become so miserable that they’d wish they were dead.”
Anastasia had never met anyone so unbelievably unreasonable. Just as she was about to retort, Elliot closed the distance between them and backed her up against the wall. He then said, “Let me tell you something, Anastasia—a man’s body language says a lot about what he feels for a woman.”
The next second, she was made acutely aware of just how dangerous and domineering he was. It wasn’t just the insidious gaze in his eyes that sent chills running down her spine, but also the way he moved so lithely and cornered her like she was helpless prey.
She could even feel the heat coming off him through the fabric of their clothes.
It was as if her mind had imploded at that moment, and blood subsequently rushed to her face. Elliot had discarded his gentlemanly and civilized front, revealing the starved and ferocious beast within him. He wanted her to know with every fiber of her being that he was not as tame as he seemed; he was just as tempestuous as anyone else, and he was not one to be messed with.
The 28 calls he had made to her tonight were the last of the walls that kept his rage at bay.
Anastasia was about to push him away when his lips crashed down on hers, demanding and punishing as ever.
Her skin prickled as something warm and electrifying coursed through her, but just as she was about to lose herself in the kiss, the man pulled away from her and walked out the door, leaving her startled and slumped against the wall.
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