It’salwaysbeen her.
It’s always been her.
“I’m so fucking pissed at you right now,” I manage, mouth open against her cheek, reluctant whimpers leaving me that I have no control over. “You lied to me. You pretended to be jealous of her.”
She squeezes my thigh so hard I feel the skin break beneath her nail. “I was jealous,” she says before drawing my skin into her mouth. “I was jealous of the way you thought about her. The hold she had on you that I never would.”
“I bet you were gleeful when I said your name the other night, then,” I say, and I feel her lips curl against my throat, her other hand kneading my ass in the most cataclysmic way.
“Ecstatic,” she breathes. She kisses up my jaw until she reaches my lips, her tongue parting them with ease.
Shit, this is numbing.
“I told you I was hurting you,” she rasps.
“Hurt me harder,” I whisper.
I want her to destroy me.
I don’t need her to beg on her knees or plead her case. I don’t need her to tell me how sorry she is for betraying me or to beseech my forgiveness. I don’t need to see her tears or hear how she regrets it. I don’twanther to regret anything we’ve been through.
I want to hear how she loved every second she was hurting me, how she clung to the satisfying way it ripped her to shreds to see me in that pain. How each time we were together, she was falling for me as hard as I was falling for her. That in the shadows, she savored my cries, collected my tears, even celebrated my pain…
I want to know how she plans on making up for the time we could have had this sick, twisted, fucked up thing we are together.
And I want to know how she’s going to make sure it never stops.
She kisses me again, engulfing my soul entirely with her fervor, and when we part, I lean forward in an anguished attempt to kiss her again.
“We have to get to my place,” she says.
Fuck.
“This isn’t over,” I tell her. “When we get to that apartment…” I carefully pull the gun out of the back of her pants and press it to the soft space under her jaw, making her eyes flutter.
“Bonnie.”
“I’m not done with you…” I lean forward, tongue dragging across her cheek. “And I get to keep the gun until I’ve decided if I forgive you or not,” I say in her ear.
Gemma visibly quivers, temple brushing against mine. “That might take a while once you hear everything.”
“Really? Why? Are there so many bodies that—”
She encloses her hand over my mouth, head tilting in a warning manner. “Shh…” she says, chin hitting her shoulder.
There’s movement on the stairwell above us. I don’t know what she’s thinking. Are there are more people involved in this than just the ones who attacked me?
“Give me the gun,” she says quietly. “I will give it back to you the moment we get to my apartment, and you can continue punishing me the way you need to. But seeing as we need to get to the elevator of the other building right now, and that means going through thelobby, I need you to give me the gun.”
I chew on my tongue. “I’m not done with you,” I say, reluctantly handing it over.
She huffs, lips flinching upward at the corners. “I hope not,” she says as she hides it somewhere under her hoodie. “Nonetheless, there’s nowhere to hide a gun in these tiny ass shorts,” she adds, grabbing my ass.
I gasp, the force jerking me to my toes, and when she places a lingering kiss on my jaw, it takes all of my strength to comply with her words and not fuck her in this hall.
“Let’s go.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
