Everett pulled me to a stop, grabbed something, and shoved it onto my head. I immediately started trying to remove it, but he grabbed the strap under my chin and jerked it over tightly before tapping the top of the helmet just above my visor. “Do not remove. Now get on the bike.”
I clutched my chest, shaking my head, my legs trembling. “I can’t—breathe.”
“Yes, you can, now get on thefuckingbike.”
I reached for the strap. I was going to pass out, I was going to—
He slapped my hand and grabbed me around the waist, picked me up, and set me down on the back of the bike before slidingdown in front of me.
He grabbed my hands and jerked me against him, my thighs pressing against his as he forced my hands around his waist. “Do not let go,” he ordered before starting the bike and taking off before I had the chance to even consider jumping off.
I barely had time to latch on before we were racing down the street. I was surrounded by his scent as I tried to catch my breath. Surrounded by rain and pine. Fresh air. Like the woods outside of the city. Like the middle of nowhere. Like isolation and freedom, that’s what it reminded me of. Freedom.
My thighs squeezed around him, my body pressing into his back, feeling his heartbeat against me. Warm and solid. Unwavering like the storms in my life. As unwavering as his sea and my cliffs, constantly slamming together, constantly chipping away.
Dependable in their destruction.
In our destruction.
We sped through the city, faster than was legal, I was sure, and all I wanted was to focus on the way it felt. The vibrations of the bike under me, the feeling of his body pressed against mine, the way his muscles shifted whenever he leaned even slightly to either side.
But all I could think about was Steven’s lips on mine.
His cock inside of me, his semen on me, his saliva.
“I’m going to be sick,” I whimpered.
“Then you’ll be swimming in it until I pull over,” he called back.
I turned my head inward, pressing it into his back, closing my eyes, only to see wheat-colored eyes, feel his hands on me, his lips—
I swallowed the bile. “I’m going to throw up.”
“Have at it.”
I inhaled through my nose and exhaled through my mouth,trying to focus on that pine and rain scent that was accosting me from all angles, but all I could feel was his cock inside of me. His hands on my breasts, holding my hips, licking my skin.
The bike skidded around a corner, and I tightened around him. The wheel screeched and we came to a sudden stop. Everett disappeared off the bike and I looked up to find us in an alley outside of an apartment building. He hooked a finger under my helmet and pulled me off the bike.
“Stop,” I pleaded.
But he dragged me down the alley, around the corner, and up the steps to the front of the building all by the bottom of that helmet.
“I can’t breathe,” I told him.
“Then suffocate,” he replied bitterly, and dragged me up the stairs on the inside of the building.
I stumbled, struggling to keep up with him, trying to take in my surroundings only to give up a second later.
He was going to kill me.
He didn’t care about the debt Steven incurred to pay for Stella’s place. He didn’t care about the deals. He was just going to kill me to get rid of me, to not deal with me anymore. Which I understood because I would get rid of me too. I was disgusting. I really was a whore. He called me a pathetic piece of trash, a prostitute, because he knew.
My eyes widened and I lost my footing, but Everett continued to drag me anyway, uncaring that I fell on my knees, that I was bruising them, that it took me several seconds to regain my footing.
He knew.
I inhaled sharply, wrapping my hands around Everett’s wrist, digging my nails into his skin, but his grip was solid.
