There’s a satisfying crack of bone against bone when my knuckles meet the side of his face. But other than working his jaw a few times, he barely acknowledges the strike.
He’s too busy trying to slip his finger behind my underwear. And I’m too busy trying to force myself to stop him.
“Stop it!” I grab his wrist again. “I’m on my fucking period.”
“And?”
“And unless you’re planning on getting a pair of tweezers to pull my tampon out when you’re done, those fat fingers of yours aren’t going inside me.”
That makes him stop.
But for all the wrong reasons.
He leans back, slides a hand into my hair, and wrenches my head back. There’s a frantic smile on his mouth that makes a part of me shudder, and another come alive.
“That’s why you were bleeding last night.”
I roll my eyes. “And here I thought I’d have to paint a fucking picture.”
His lips form into a hard, cruel line. “You played us both.”
“Huh?”
He laughs, and it’s even worse than the smile. Kai releases my hair, grabs the railing, leans his head on my shoulder and starts rocking back and forth.
“You fuckingplayedus, Miss H.”
So…I’m getting vibes.
Like how maybe Kai isn’t sober. Not in a ‘whoopsie, too much tequila’ kind of way. But like hardcore mind-altering chemicals have been introduced to his blood stream and have flicked on switches that should always,alwaysbe turned off.
Ducking my head to get a better look at his pupils, I whisper, “Are you on something?”
“Fuck off, Haven.”
“You’re acting?—“
“What? Crazy?” His laugh sounds it. “Because anyone who doesn’t swallow everything you say, hook, line, and fucking sinker, they gotta be crazy, right?”
He presses his nose against the side of my neck, inhales a sharp breath. “I can still smell him on you. It’s like he’s soaked into your skin.”
My body’s shivering now, and it’s got nothing to do with the drops of rain reaching us under the porch roof. Or the odd gust of wind driving them to us.
It’s the way Kai’s voice drops so low, it’s rumbling.
With his face so close to mine, all I can think about is kissing him. Like I did this morning. He wouldn’t taste the same. He had Bastian’s cum in his mouth.
Bitter. Salty. Warm.
And then sweet and wet the longer we kissed.
Fuck, how can I get this turned on by someone who obviously despises me so much?
Because in that tiny sliver of a moment this morning, it didn’t feel like he hated me.
…I fucking love you…
The memory of those words he whispered to me last night send a jolt through my body.
