True, Untrue

"Fuck off," she snaps, sharp as a blade.

"And she curses too..." I muse, my voice a lazy drawl.

"Worse than you can imagine."

I chuckle, low and dark, stepping in closer, letting the air between us hum with something dangerous. "And I can fuck you in ways you can't even imagine."

Her glare is pure venom, and I drink it in, savoring every ounce of that fiery defiance. But then she turns her head, dismissing me, and I hate how much I want to pull her gaze back.

I lean in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Aaron." My name drips like sin, soft and deliberate. She turns back, just like I knew she would.

"I want you to remember that name every time you curse me." A smirk tugs at my lips, teasing, taunting.

Her eyes narrow, slicing through me like a knife. "Well, Aaron, you can go fuck yourself." Every syllable is laced with venom, my name twisted into something almost lethal. But God, the way she says it-like she'd shoot me dead without hesitation-sends a shiver straight through me.

And the worst part? That only makes me want her more.

I should walk away. I should leave it at that. But instead, a wicked thought curls in my mind-

Should I tell her that I'd rather fuck her?