~ 17 ~
THEO
FUCK! I shouldn’t be here!
The realization came too late. It arrived a split-second after pushing the door open; only a crack at first, and then just enough for my traitorous feet to carry me inside.
Out in the hallway I’d heard no words, no voices. Just the soft whimpers and deep grunts of something primal and untamed. The room was dim; lit only by spilled moonlight reflected off a pair of white curtains, dancing inward with the gentle night’s breeze. It was enough to see, though. Enough to make out exactly what I knew I would find, whether I wanted to admit it or not.
Peyton was naked, on the bed. Her blonde hair spilled down over her face like a golden waterfall, her perfect breasts swaying forward and back.
Ripley was behind her, pumping away.
At first my brain refused to register details. I was too caught up in shock, too busy trying to look away. My heart wouldn’t let me, though. I was too invested. Too caught up inthe raw intimacy of the scene spread out before me. It was a scene that was heartbreakingly unmistakable. A scenario I’d dreamed a thousand times before, in the darkest, most secret recesses of my mind.
Shit.
In my dream, those hands had beenmyhands. The low, guttural grunts between the feminine whimpers had belonged to me.
Jealousy hit first. It arrived like a thunderclap; sharp, piercing, and incontestable. A hot coil, twisting in my gut reminded me that I’d carried my feelings for Peyton way too quietly, for way too long. I’d convinced myself I was watching over her, protecting her. Keeping her safe from a distance, rather than telling her how I truly felt.
But in the end, restraint was all that it was.
And now here was Ripley; reckless and infuriating. Cutting the line. Doing what I couldn’t. Doing what Iwouldn’t…
He’d taken her while I slept. Touched her, in places that I could only dream of.
I tried to swallow, but I couldn’t.
Look at her…
My eyes fell on her taut body, slick with sweat, writhing beneath my friend’s furious onslaught. Peyton wasn’t just getting fucked, she was fucking him back. She let out another series of breathless whimpers, and the knife of jealousy twisted even more.
She wanted this.
That truth fell harder than just about anything. As smooth as Ripley was, I knew he hadn’t coerced her. He hadn’ttaken advantage of her in a weak moment, or claimed her without her choosing him back. That kiss we’d shared had meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. It was a ‘thank you for playing.’ A blip on the radar of her obviously hungry libido, which she’d so eagerly sated with someone other than me.
I looked at Peyton again and saw her in her purest form. She was stripped down, unguarded, totally bare. There was no more Donovan, looming over her choices. She was claiming her life back from him. Her body. Her everything.
And if I really, truly loved her, I would have to understand and accept that.
My legs froze just a few feet from the bed, abandoning me in the worst possible of all places. When I looked up again, I found Ripley staring back at me.
He didn’t stop. Shit, he didn’t even slow down. His lust-fueled expression was full of warning at first, then eventually, a slow understanding.
I raised my hand quietly, and jerked a thumb at the door. He gave me the smallest of nods.
Then I took a slow step backward… and the floor creaked.
My heart leapt into my throat as Peyton’s head whipped up. That shimmering blonde hair flew back in a bright, untamed arc.
Theo!
She mouthed the word, without saying it. Fear ripped through me, as her half-lidded eyes settled fully upon mine.
There weren’t words to describe her expression, other than to say she was in heat. Peyton’s beautiful blue irises wereunfocused, unfixed; her eyes lost to something totally feral. She was consumed by need. Swallowed by a reckless, dangerous hunger that Ripley was currently fulfilling.
She stared at me, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t even hesitate, as her perfect ass continued its greedy, backward grind to meet my friend’s every thrust. Her lips were plump and full, her face flushed pink with the blood of desire. And she was looking, still gazing up at me. Still locked in the strangest of all staring contests imaginable.
