Crimson Rage
Krystal Ryland f*****g liked this. Oh, he was enjoying every damn second of it. I could see it in the way he leaned into this woman like she was something he wanted to keep. Like she belonged there. Like she had any goddamn right to put her hands on him. My fingers tightened around my pen, the plastic creaking under the pressure. My entire body burned, heat flooding through me like a f*****g wildfire, and I swore if I didn’t get out of this chair, I was going to lunge at that woman and rip her goddamn hands off. “Easy, Krys.” Travis’ voice was a low chuckle at my side, and I snapped my head toward him, my glare promising violence. He just smirked, leaning against my desk like he had all the time in the world to witness my unraveling. “What?” I hissed. He clicked his tongue. “Your j
- Writer
