Ruin My Life (Mangled Masterpieces #1)

39. Remy

39

Remy

T he microwave beeps for the third time— the fucking thing is loud enough to be heard from space.

“Hey love, can you get that?”

Radio silence.

Tossing his deodorant on the bathroom counter, I step into a pair of borrowed sweats, grumbling under my breath, “ Is he hearing impaired? ” I’m about to investigate why the irresistible shithead isn’t answering when I catch the reflection of my flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

I’ve learned a few things tonight:

Win’s been struggling in silence for too fucking long.

His past actions are finally starting to make sense.

He’s the most beautiful, broken creature to exist.

While these revelations are life-altering, I keep returning to something ridiculously trivial in comparison.

I’m obsessed with sucking his dick.

The microwave shrieks again .

He has to be messing with me.

Massaging my jaw, I stomp out of the bathroom. “Winston fucking Rhodes get the damn—"

My voice dies.

He’s on his stomach diagonal across the mattress, leg hitched and perfect ass on display. My gaze snags on a tattoo beginning at his waist, descending to his lower back, and curving around his outer thigh. Black lashes fan over his cheek, half his face smushed into a pillow as soft snores escape his parted lips.

In a trance, I creep toward him, trailing my fingertips up his ankle, to his calf, higher to the back of his thigh until I reach his firm ass.

His eyelids flutter.

Bending to his ear, I whisper, “Did I wear you out, sweet thing?”

Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised he passed out. Between the emotional eruption and subsequent hookup, he must be exhausted.

One sleepy grey eye opens. “Mmph?”

“Yeah, thought so,” I chuckle. “You were supposed to put pants on.”

“Fuck pants."

My palm cracks on his ass.

“Ow!” he howls, instantly wide awake. He whips his head around to glare, but traces of amusement twinkle at me. “Did you just spank me?”

“You asked for it.”

“How?”

I cock a brow and squeeze his cheek. “Really, love? I think it’s obvious.”

The pet name throws off his irritable scowl. I grin. He huffs, “I didn’t know being naked was a punishable offense. ”

The sass of this guy.

“It’s not, but that attitude is.” I nip his earlobe. “And if you’re still naked when I come back, I’m taking it as an invitation.”

Goosebumps ripple across his creamy skin.

“To do what?”

My fingers creep into his crease.

“To finally play with this tight hole.”

His brows pinch like he’s in agony as a little moan slips out. “Baby, I don’t think it’s physically possible for me to come again.”

Ok, so I might’ve blown him two more times in the name of practicing my technique, but I was so focused on his cock— that fucking piercing— I didn’t get explore.

“Mmm, that’s a shame,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He melts deeper into the mattress with a contented sigh.

I swat his ass again.

“Asshole!”

Snickering, I dodge a terribly aimed kick. “Exactly. I want to be in your asshole.”

His growl is cut off by the microwave releasing another screech.

“How the fuck did you sleep through that awful sound?”

Humming something to the effect of, “I don’t know,” he snuggles back into the pillow.

Fuck, he’s precious.

And very naked… smelling like sweat and cum.

This man is rotting my brain. He must exude some kind of sex pheromone because there’s no other explanation for my perpetual boner around him.

His eyes have closed again. I comb the mess of inky hair away from his flawless face.

“Don’t fall back asleep, Pooh, you gotta eat something. ”

In response, I get an unintelligible grumble followed by, “It’s your fault I’m tired.”

He’s not wrong.

I sigh, giving him one more kiss on the temple before padding out of the dimly lit bedroom to the kitchenette to retrieve the reheated takeout. The tangy scent of orange chicken fills my nose, steam rising from a bed of white rice.

My stomach growls.

Grabbing two forks, I juggle the plastic containers and bottles of water as I return to the bedroom.

I’m mildly disappointed to find Win in a pair of black boxer briefs, propped against the headboard, scrolling through his phone, raven hair sticking up in all directions.

Grey eyes lift, widening in excitement.

“You got Chinese?”

My cheeks heat. “It used to be your favorite.”

“Still is,” he grins as I settle next to him. We situate the food in front of us (more like I try to divide it equally while he attempts to steal all the eggrolls.) He drops one on the bed with a hiss, shaking his hand out.

“That’s what you get for being a greedy little shit.”

Two fingers dip into my sauce.

I glare at him.

He sucks them into his mouth, giving me doe eyes.

“Fucking heathen.”

He shrugs, releasing them with a pop.

I roll my eyes.

He snickers.

For a while, we gorge in comfortable silence. I’m slowing down when Win’s palm lands on my thigh followed by a wisp of a kiss on my cheek .

“Thank you, baby,” he murmurs. “For everything. It's difficult for me to… accept comfort when I don't think I deserve it.”

Aching emotion sits at the back of my throat. I shake my head. “You do.”

He blinks rapidly, head tilting back to the ceiling. “Fuck this is hard.” I cover his hand with mine and wait as he blows out a shaky breath. “According to my therapist at rehab, I prioritize everyone else because dealing with my own emotions is too painful. I’ve done it all my life. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my dad, but he wasn’t perfect. His moods were based on the state of his finances or work schedule and I didn’t want to rock the boat, so I suppressed my needs. By the time I started getting bullied in school, it was too late— I’d already trained myself to bottle everything up. I didn't realize I'd run out of space until I needed to get it out, but I didn’t know how to communicate, so I hurt myself. I know it’s not an excuse but it's one thing to know it and something else entirely to feel it. I guess… I’m still trying to come to terms with everything I’ve kept inside for so long.”

Tears sting my eyes as I lift our joined hands and kiss his knuckles. “It makes sense. What matters is you’re trying,” I rasp. His fingers tremble in my grip. “And Win?”

Bloodshot grey eyes meet my wet ones.

“Yeah?”

“You’re mine. That means your pain is too. So whenever you’re ready, we’ll take those demons on together, ok?”

His lip quivers. “What if you hate what you learn?”

Releasing his hand, I grasp him by the back of the neck. “Listen to me. I don’t need specifics to know I can and will hate the things you’ve been through only because I can’t turn back time and protect you from them.”

Tears spill over. “I fucking hate crying,” he chokes with a sad laugh.

“But you’re so pretty when you do,” I tease. He snorts, trying to pull back. I reel him closer and skim my mouth over his. “Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done.”

“Of course you’re not.”

“When it comes to you, I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

His forehead touches mine. “Right back at you, sunshine,” he whispers and kisses me. It takes herculean strength to break from his drugging lips.

“One last thing,” I murmur. “Do you remember what I asked for with that stupid birthday voucher?”

The crooked smile makes a reappearance. “Hey now, don’t be hating on it. Got you to kiss me, didn’t it?”

“I was going to anyway.”

“ Sure ,” he drawls.

Just to make a point, I kiss the brat.

“You didn’t answer me”

Chewing his bottom lip, he whispers. “I remember.”

My thumb strokes the delicate skin behind his ear. “Then you’ll know why, even after all this time and heartbreak, you’re worth everything to me. You found me when I was lost. You held me together as best as you could. And maybe it wasn’t our time, maybe we both were too heavy, or maybe the universe just dealt us shitty cards, but I think it had to be this way. It’s my turn to hold you together.”

He’s shaking as he collapses against me, clutching me like I’m his life raft. I know there’s more he hasn’t told me; it’ll probably tear me to shreds. Silently, I curse whoever or whatever caused him this level of pain as I kiss his hair, his eyes, his lips.

“You hate me,” he whimpers into my neck.

“We’ve already established that’s a lie.”

“No, you do . I just told you I hate crying and you go and say all this emotional shit like I’m not gonna just fucking breakdown all over again.”

I pull back and cock a brow. “Really?”

“Yes, really ,” he snaps. “It’s payback, isn’t it?”

Fighting a smile, I mutter, “No, you idiot,” and try to kiss him. He turns his head like a petulant toddler. I grab his jaw, smushing his cheeks. “If it was payback… I’d tell you how I felt myself come back to life the night I saw you again.”

He shakes me off and rubs his leaking eyes with his middle fingers.

I can’t help laughing. “You’re cute.”

His lips twitch up.

“You’re enjoying this way too much you fucking sadist.”

Grabbing his wrists, I drag him into my lap.

Like a switch is flicked, he thrashes, nearly spilling the remains of our dinner all over the bed.

“Would you stop?” I grunt, forcing his ass down. He keeps flailing like a maniac. Releasing one wrist, I band an arm around his waist and smash him against my front.

“Keep bouncing on my dick and it’s going up your ass.”

He freezes, panting heavily; one hand rests over my heart, the other pinned between us. Then something bizarre happens.

A vicious look overtakes his features. The hand on my chest suddenly brackets my throat, smoky eyes boring directly into mine.

“This is a fantasy of yours, huh? Wrestling me into submission so you can tear me apart with your cock while I scream?”

My sweet, sassy boyfriend isn't in the room; he’s replaced by a deranged, feral animal.

“What the fuck? I’d never— ”

“I don’t believe you,” he growls, rocking his hips. As good as the friction feels, I can’t ignore the hostility in his tone. Something is fucking wrong. Grasping his hips, I halt him.

“Stop.”

He snarls. “Why? It’s what you wanted.”

Insects crawl under my skin. Something I said or did must have triggered him.

I carefully raise my hands in surrender.

“I just wanted to hold you.”

He blinks like he can’t possibly comprehend what I’ve said. Like he hasn’t been present at all in the last few minutes.

“Win?”

He stares blankly.

I’m afraid of startling him, but he’s scaring the shit out of me.

“Where’s this coming from, love?”

Finally, his eyes round, color draining from his face. The tiny seed of dread planted in my ribs sprouts thorny vines. He starts to retreat, and this time I let him, even as my heart falls into my stomach.

I sit there, reeling.

Silently, he gathers the leftover food and sets it on the end table. I’m about to help him clean up when he climbs back into bed and grabs my hand. He surprises me again by sinking into the spot next to me and guiding my arm around his shoulders. It takes some adjusting until I have him comfortably draped over my side, lazily running my fingers through his hair with his cheek on my chest.

“My wrists,” he whispers. I hold my breath. “You restrained me by my wrists.”

The vines constrict tighter around my lungs.

“Fuck, Win, I didn’t mean to—”

He shakes his head. “It's fine. I’m sorry I reacted like… that . ”

A hundred questions flood my mouth but none come out. It’s too much. Too much in one night. Even though my imagination runs rogue with every awful reason, I choose a different route.

“I do fantasize about having you,” I whisper. He tenses. I swallow hard, closing my eyes. “But in my version, we’re kissing and even though you’re below me, I’m completely under your spell as you whisper that you want me inside you because you can’t have me close enough.”

His jaw trembles as he presses his mouth to my pec.

“I like your version better.”

I kiss the top of his head, breathing him in.

“Me too.”

And without outright saying it, he’s revealed enough for me to know I’m going to fucking destroy whoever hurt him.