She mutters something incomprehensible before she reaches for me.
I pull back. “No, this time, you’re going to come with me inside you.”
I move so I can slide my cock over her pussy, slapping it against her clit, making her back arch in pleasure. “Tell me you want me.”
“I want you,” she whispers.
I open my mouth to make her say it again when she flips the script on me.
“I want you, bare Kruger. I want to feel you come inside me.”
I don’t ask her if she’s sure, and I sure as shit don’t give her a chance to come to her senses. No, I surge inside her, feeling her pussy ripple around me as I finally come home.
She comes on the second stroke, screaming my name as she rakes her nails down my back. But I don’t relent. I fuck her hard and deep, while I dip my head and whisper every filthy thing I want to do to her until I’m on the brink of coming myself.
“Stoke your clit, chestnut. I want to feel you come all over my cock again.”
She reaches down as I pull back so I can watch. There is no sweeter sight than my cock disappearing inside her. I’m teetering on the edge but refuse to go over without her.
“Come now!” I roar, unable to hold back any longer.
I come hard, just as her pussy turns into a vice around me. She throws her head back and whispers my name. I take her lips in a scalding kiss as I fuck her through our orgasms and the aftershocks.
I lift my head and stare into her glassy eyes as I stroke the hair back from her face. “You okay?”
“Mmm…more than okay.”
“Good. Shower?”
“That depends. Are you going to wash me?”
“Try and stop me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
DELPHI
Sittingdown with Circus and Capone feels a little like waiting in the dentist’s waiting room for a root canal. I arrive early. Theo is at school, so I can use the apartment for us to talk. I make sure the coffee pot is on and I have some pastries ready. I rub my smooth hands down the front of my pants, wondering why I felt the need to dress in business casual today when they’ve both seen me half naked before. The crisp white shirt, black pants, and high heels make me look professional, but it’s hard to know if they see that or only see the young girl who used to be a free spirit.
I walk to the bathroom to make sure my hair is still in place. Gone are the wild curls I was sporting yesterday as me, Theo, and Kruger wandered around the farmers’ market, eating far too much and sampling their beers and ciders. I’d thought Theo might be bored, but he soaked it all up like a sponge, reminding me that he’d likely never even been there before, despite it coming to town every couple of months. Today, my hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, which took me three attempts to get right.
“God, you’re being ridiculous,” I tell my reflection, which is looking pale even under my makeup.
I wish I knew why I was struggling with this so much. I’ve made such inroads with Kruger. You’d think it would be easier with the rest of the MC. I’m not in a relationship with them.
I used to think pain was pain. Regardless of the cause or source, we all feel it, deal with it, and move on. But the truth is, pain is relative to the weapon used to inflict it. We’re taught to fear strangers, to develop thick skin to protect us from our enemies, and to use caution with acquaintances we haven’t yet learned to trust. We’re prepared for the worst from the outside world. But that’s okay. It’s why we build our circles small but tight.
And therein lies the problem. Nobody teaches you how to cope with betrayal when it comes from within. When the people who are supposed to shield you become the bullets that tear you apart.
Mending things with Kruger has pulled him into a whole new category, one that women in the dating world are all too familiar with. We have our own risk and reward systems because it’s not all men, but it is always men. And we can’t tell just by looking at them who the good ones are. And yes, Lee, I’m talking about you. My guard is naturally up with Kruger, even though I’m more open with him in other ways. It’s complicated and messy, and pretty much what dating is like for most people, regardless of their history.
The MC is at a disadvantage because they’re still stuck in the group labeled “assholes that fucked me over.” And none of them have particularly made the effort to fix that. I don’t see that changing anytime soon.
The doorbell rings, snapping me out of my thoughts. I stare at myself for a minute more. “Be the bossy bitch that can survive anything,” I tell my reflection.
With a nod, I leave and head over to the intercom. “Hello?”
“It’s Circus and Capone.”
