Rage

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Tara

H is smile spread slowly, not the predatory one I was used to seeing when Arkady thought he’d won an argument just because I stopped arguing back, but a real one. Genuine amusement shone in the depths of his eyes, the color not quite the right shade, confusing me further.

I knew Arkady. His eyes had always been this pale green in college, when we first met. I used to tease him about them over drinks at the college cantina. But when we ran into each other at a reunion and decided to hook up, his eyes were darker, less vivid. He always insisted I must’ve been mistaken. His eyes had always been green. What did it matter what shade they were?

But standing here in front of me were those same pale green eyes I remembered, the ones I fantasized over when I got so drunk I forgot I swore I wouldn’t get involved with anyone while I was in school. I was there for the education, not the boys. Still, something about Arkady Accetta had drawn me in, made me want to do things I shouldn’t be doing.

Like him.

I still had a picture of us in college, the whole late-night cantina gang around Christmastime, crowded together outside the fucking bar like a bunch of fools. Arkady’s roomie, Pete, had brought a sprig of mistletoe and was jokingly holding it above everyone with a laugh. Arkady had torn it from his grip right before we took the picture, and he dangled it above me with a drunken smile, his velvet words caressing my earlobe as he leaned in and whispered against my skin about rules are rules; pucker up, bookworm .

Fuck, even when the man wasn’t using his tongue—which had been the stuff of legends in the girls’ dorms—he was still insanely good at it.

That picture was hidden behind a picture of the Arkady I’d been with for the past couple of years, tucked away like a forgotten memory, but always there in case I needed reminding that people changed.

As if living with the man wasn’t reminder enough.

His hands were still in the air, a picture of us from Christmas with his mother still gripped in his hand. I’d thrown it up with a piece of tape last year when she sent it, hating the way the whole interaction gave me the ick, but knowing he’d complain if I hadn’t.

My hackles raised, even as I tightened my grip on the gun between us. “Who the fuck are you?”

I didn’t like how his eyes searched mine, how they obviously found something in my gaze that told him everything he needed to know. His hands lowered just as slowly as he’d put them up, and I watched as he leaned against the dresser behind him, casually crossing his arms as if we had all the time in the world.

“I think you know who I am, Tara.”

I knew that voice. For so long, I’d deluded myself into believing that the one I remembered had changed as he grew into the man he was now, that even my voice wasn’t like it had been before, but this?—

“Arkady,” I whispered, my confidence and self-assuredness crumbling as I realized I’d been living with an imposter all this time. But if this was Arkady here before me, if this was the man I remembered… “But that’s impossible.”

“It’s a long story, bookworm, but if you put that gun down, we can talk.”

I didn’t know what to trust anymore, so the gun stayed in place. I knew I wouldn’t use it. I didn’t even have the balls to pull the trigger on a damn deer when we went hunting a few years back. I wouldn’t be able to shoot a man. A living, breathing human.

“No way in hell. I have no idea who you are, but you need to get your skinwalker-ass out of my house before I call the cops?—”

He lunged forward, his hand closing around the gun with a finality that sealed my fate. I felt it slip from my hand, and a sense of relief actually passed through me, the weight of the gun more mental than physical, taking away the possibility that I might have to shoot someone today.

I waited for him to put the gun to my head, but he didn’t. Instead, he unloaded it, tossed it across the room, and put the bullets in his pocket, making a show of it for my benefit. He still held me in his grip, my back pressed against his front, and for a second, my hormone-addled, perplexed mind stopped to bask in the warmth of his body, the careful way his free arm cradled me just below my chest, keeping me trapped but not confined.

And then I remembered my training and started to flail, knowing instinctively I had to get away from this man—fast.

“Ngh, stop that, Tara, you’re—fuck, no, don’t be like this, I—oh, god, I?—”

His cock pressed against my ass and he moaned as it dragged along my jeans, the hard length short-circuiting me momentarily. His breath came in short, panting puffs against my neck as he leaned down and nuzzled me, those soft moans doing something to my insides that left me feeling very aroused.

“If you don’t stop moving, I’m gonna?—”

Something malicious in me wanted to see what would happen. Some part of me I couldn’t shut off, the part of me that knew the real Arkady was right behind me, and very, very horny—and he wanted me. My college brain kicked in, and I squirmed a little more, letting my ass twist against him, loving the way his voice sounded in my ear as his hips jerked and he groaned, almost painfully.

“Fuck me, girl, even without a gun, you’re dangerous.”

I stopped in my tracks, shame drowning me all of a sudden. Here I was, grappling in the arms of a stranger, someone who’d broken into my house, someone who had disarmed me like it was nothing, and I was getting hot and bothered and enjoying the way he moaned when I rubbed my ass on him like some kind of cat in heat.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“P-please,” I begged, feeling tears burn the corners of my eyes. “Please just let me go.”

He spun me around so fast it left me reeling to catch up. I was still in his arms, but now, both of them were wrapped around me, less tight than before, a look of concern on his face.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Those eyes had me spilling my secrets like I was thirteen and he was my diary. Damn him. “No.”

His brows furrowed. “You don’t have to be scared.”

I almost stuck my nose in the air in offense. “I’m not.”

“Good,” he said, that smile eating up his face again as he lifted me from the floor and set me on the top of my dresser, putting him at eye level with my tits. “Because I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time.”

His hands reached up and cradled my face, dragging me down to him with a groan. At first, I stayed entirely still, waiting for him to let me go, but as my brain remembered what it was like to be kissed by Arkady Accetta, I realized with a start that I knew this man before me, really knew him, and everything up to now had been nothing but a carefully-crafted lie. One I’d played right into, allowed myself to be gaslit into, just like all those stupid girls I’d been so afraid of becoming in college.

My lips parted against his, and I whispered a plea. For the first time in a long time, the world felt right. He said nothing, his tongue slipping between my teeth to tease mine, setting me a-fucking-flame. The world stopped for a moment in time, and I forgot about everything outside of this kiss, the way he felt so familiar yet so foreign, my heart constricting as I realized I’d lied to myself, buried the truth I knew to be real, for the last?—

“As much as I’d like to continue kissing you, Tara,” he muttered as he kissed his way down the side of my jaw. His hands were on my hips now, holding me steady as he worked his way to my collarbone. “We don’t have the time.”

As my head rolled back, my eyes drifting closed as his lips brushed against the hollow of the base of my throat, I moaned, a hand reaching out to tangle in his hair, holding his head against me, refusing to let this dream, this fantasy, end so soon.

“Please,” I begged, not even sure about my own name anymore. “Please, don’t?—”

“Don’t what?” he groaned, his left hand moving around to slide down the outside of my thigh. “You make stopping really hard, you know that?”

I peeked an eye open, glancing at the clock on the wall. “He wo– fuck, he won’t be back for another hour at least.”

“I won’t need an hour,” he snarled, his voice muffled against my skin. “I only needed ten seconds to make you see me. Another ten, and I’ll have you seeing stars.”

Promises, promises. I hadn’t had an orgasm caused by a man in years. I doubted the newly-resurfaced ghost of my past would have better luck?—

“Oh!”

His fingers slid up through the mid-thigh hole in the front of my jeans and zinged straight for the source, grazing the fabric of my panties as I arched into his touch and damn near came off the bureau in shock.

His eyes flared with surprise and feral heat, that cocky smile creeping back across his face. “You’re so wet already. Tell me something, Tara—when was the last time you didn’t have to give yourself an orgasm?”

I blinked, trying desperately to think back and finding nothing but disappointment in my past. Had there truly not been once when a man had made me come? Had Arkady never?—

His fingers shoved themselves around my panties and delved into my dripping cunt, the sound of tearing denim accompanying my mewls of pleasure and his groan of anticipation like a beautiful, forbidden melody.

“I—I don’t know,” I admitted, grinding against him like a whore. “Fuck, I—never,” I finally admitted, whining as he tugged his fingers out of me, desperate for him to touch me again.

I knew it was wrong. I’d been in a monogamous relationship with Arkady since?—

Well, technically, I hadn’t been. I’d been in a relationship with someone pretending to be Arkady. Was it really cheating if the man I was cheating with was the one I thought I was cheating on?

“Who is he?” I asked as he tugged my legs around his waist, his fingers trailing back up my body and down each arm like the wind’s caress on a summer day.

“My twin, Antony,” he admitted, putting my arms around his neck. “Hold on, bookworm.”

In a flash, he picked me up from the dresser and carried me over to the bed, where we fell in a tangled heap of limbs. My legs still wrapped around him, his arms bracketing me on either side of my head. This was my dream come true—falling into bed with the inescapable, enticing, sexy-as-sin coed I’d lusted after my whole college career.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, wholly mortified and utterly devastated in the same breath.

Arkady froze above me, concern flashing in his eyes again. “You okay, Tara?”

“I’ve been living a lie this whole time,” I muttered, tears forming in the corner of my eyes. “I just realized?—”

I slapped my hands over my mouth and turned a wonderful shade of scarlet.

I was about to fuck Arkady Accetta. For the first time.

Again.