16. Another Leash #2
It’s an odd feeling, being surrounded by people you love, the joy in your heart for them real, the happiness tipping the corners of your lips and heating your cheeks, and yet an ever-present sickness in your gut churns with the stormy water raging in your chest, drowning your heart.
I feel like I live in a constant battle between moving on and falling backward.
I’m tired. My soul is tired. Cutter’s blue gaze burns into me like the hottest part of the flame from across the room. I hate you. I hate you. I love you.
His eyes seem to find me whenever we’re in the same space, and every time they do, I forget he’s not mine—forget the pain he causes when he ghosts from my room while my body is still warm with his scent. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
“Stop staring. You’re feeding his ego.” Rogue snorts, grabbing my chin and swiveling my face in her direction. She taps her finger on the bottle of beer in front of me. “Drink.”
“I’m not touching that one,” Diamond says flatly, looking in Cutter’s direction and pursing her lips. “I have bowls to fill.” She waves a hand over her head as she takes off.
“Why can’t I make myself stop?” I whine, picking up the bottle and swigging the contents.
“The heart wants what the heart wants.” She sighs, biting her lip, her eyes roaming to my brother deep in conversation with Grease at the other end of the room.
My head shakes as I gather my thoughts. “Even when it can’t have it.”
Shifting in her seat to face me, she takes my hand and squeezes.
“You need to decide whether this is what you want for yourself. Is it enough? If it is, then fine, keep going back to his bed and having those small stolen moments. But if it’s not, make a clean break.
Don’t give your heart that power. Use your head.
It will hurt for a while, but then you’ll slowly begin to realize you’re moving on, and one day, it will have happened and you’ll feel free. ”
“Where did that come from?” I shift in my seat, trying to think of an excuse to leave at the turn of the conversation.
Shit is getting deep and too real to deal with right now.
I have quit him. I have. I have. I have .
“I’m trying.” I almost choke on the words.
The knuckles of the hand wrapped around the bottle neck turn white as I cling to it.
“I’m really trying,” I say again, but I’m not sure if it’s for her ears or mine.
“I want you to be happy,” she says, then her focus moves to someone across the room, and she stands. “Drink up. I’ll get us another one.”
“Are you trying to make me an alcoholic?” A definite change from me trying to make her one.
“Trying to help you forget for a while.” I’ve already tried drinking him away. It doesn’t work. “And if it stops you from being a Cutter cockaholic, I’m all for it.”
A choked laugh ripples from my chest, and some of the weight pressing down on me eases.
Poking out her tongue, she swipes my bottle and heads to the bar, detouring toward Monster when he enters the room.
My gaze shifts away from them, landing back on the man who has consumed my life.
Who am I without him? I need to find out.
Getting to my feet, I push past a group of club sluts and call to Diamond who’s now behind the bar, “If Rogue asks where I am, tell her I had to go feed Keg.”
“Will do, sweetheart.”
“Thanks.”
Maneuvering through the bodies, I ignore Green calling my name and head out down the corridor to my room. My heart drops when heavy footfalls follow. There are a shit ton of brothers in this club, but I know without looking it’s Cutter following me.
I push open the door and attempt to whip it closed, but the tip of a shit kicker boot flies out, preventing it from closing.
Bastard.
Pressing my weight against the flimsy wood, I growl, “Fuck off.”
A hand curls around the edge of the door, shoving it open, jarring me backward.
Cutter’s handsome, smug face comes into view, his long blond hair loose and tucked behind his ears, and a couple days’ worth of stubble rough on his jawline.
He’s wearing a white henley beneath his leather cut and dark, fitted jeans with leather boots.
The man is a walking dildo. I want to fuck myself with him every which way—and herein lies the problem.
I don’t just love the asshole, I crave him worse than any addiction.
My body comes alive at the sight of him.
He has a power that takes control of me, numbing my senses, narrowing the world to nothing more than need, want—that evil bitch lust. I’ve been held in lust’s grip for so long, I’ve become a broken-hearted fool clinging to the scraps he throws my way.
“You were eye-fucking me across the bar, Kit.”
“You fucking wish,” I snap.
His gaze dances up my body, heat flashing in his eyes. “So, you’re talking to me now?”
“No.”
A dark laugh slides from his lips, slicing through the room, descending over me like a shadow, sending my pulse skipping. The corners of his mouth tilt, and those eyes narrow, burning into me. “What the fuck do you need a dog lead for?” he asks, pulling a leather leash from his back pocket.
Thoughts race through my mind, and it dawns on me that I must have sent that one text to him, not Tim. “That text wasn’t meant for you.”
“Who was it meant for?” He takes a menacing step toward me, and instead of fear, a throng of excitement builds in my stomach . I’m sick .
Wrapping the leather around both fists, he flexes the cord until it’s tight. There’s a dare in my stare back at him. My throat bobs as I swallow with anticipation of his body closing in on mine.
“Who?” he demands.
The leather pushes against the delicate flesh of my neck as he towers over me, forcing me back against the wall with his body. His scent washes over me. Leather, oil, the forest floor after a rainstorm. Pure Cutter.
“Are you fucking that prospect, Kit?” he spits through clenched teeth, the tension leaking off him like sweat. The leather bites into my skin, and the taste of pain makes my pussy throb. I know I need to be careful, not for me, but for Tim. I’m stepping through a minefield wearing clown shoes.
“What if I am?” I tease, smirking.
“I’ll kill him.” There’s no joking in his tone, just a firm warning ringing with truth.
“How fucking dare you,” I bite out. “You’re married, you prick. I’ll fuck whoever I want. We’re over, Cutter. We’ve been over.”
The leash moves from my throat and pushes past my lips to the corners of my mouth, parting my lips, stretching my cheeks, stealing the air from my lungs, pumping adrenaline through my veins.
Pushing his nose into my throat, he inhales, drinking me in, then growls into my ear, “We will never be over, Kit. Fucking never.” A sharp splinter of pain makes me gasp as he releases the lead and grasps my jaw in his grip, crashing his lips to mine. Fuck him.
I bury my teeth into his lip until I feel a pop and blood gushes into my mouth.
Whipping his head back, his eyes flash electric blue.
Red liquid drips to his chin, and his breathing hitches.
He looks like a vampire after feeding and fucking.
It’s beautiful. “You can’t quit me, Kit, just like I can’t quit you. ”
Shoving his chest, I shake my head. “I have quit you.” I snatch the leash from his hand and point to the door. “Now, get the fuck out of my room.”