30. Juliet
30
JULIET
I ’m flying high—fucking soaring over all the bullshit, and god damn, but it feels good. I haven’t felt this way in months. Hell, I probably haven’t felt this way, like, ever . If I’m honest, even before my whole life went in the shitter, I wasn’t all that happy with it. Content? Maybe. I’d argue, though, that I felt more … resigned.
Now, though, I’m free.
Free of all the concern and fresh out of fucks to give.
The second we’d pulled up in front of the old farmhouse, I’d been out of the SUV and running to meet up with Roquel. Together, she and I had snagged someone’s handle of vodka and finished it between the two of us in a matter of hours. The guys had all watched me with frowns etched into their features, but so long as I wasn’t causing issues, they’d left me alone. Roquel, in one of her rare moments of understanding, hadn’t asked me about my sudden change after Morpheus had left. She’d just taken shot after shot with me as I’d drowned those ugly old memories in alcohol.
Overwhelmed by the heated crush of people inside—all of whom are trying to stay warm in otherwise frigid air outside—I squeeze my way onto the porch. It overlooks the various barrels of fire set around the perimeter of the property, making me wonder who actually lives here to have it set up so readily.
That thought disperses, though, as I glance back, searching for a sign of Roquel. She’s gone though, likely off to suck some football guy’s dick. I only hope she gets dicked down good herself for her troubles.
I stumble forward, down the porch steps and out onto the lawn. I’m nearly falling on my face before I catch myself, and somehow, that is the funniest shit ever. Finally, after several steps, I turn and collapse on an expanse of dirt and grass that’s more dry than it is wet. The shadow of none other than Nolan Pierce himself hovers over me as I lie back and just … laugh.
I hear him sigh. “Where’s your friend?” he asks.
I open my mouth to answer, and a loud belch makes it out instead. A beat of silence and then, I burst into giggles. I just burped… in Nolan’s face. He stares down at me like I’ve grown a second head and I can’t help but laugh harder. Oh, man, I wish Roquel had stuck around. She would’ve been right next to me, laughing her own ass off.
Nolan continues to wait patiently until I’m all out of giggles, and I finally manage a real response. “Probs fucking some douche-dick,” I say, my words only slightly slurred.
I pout. If only Mads were here too, then I wouldn’t be alone. It’s not fair that the one person who will actually hang out with me at these things and be my friend is the one person who’s never allowed to have any fun. Nolan’s eyes latch on to my mouth and a strange sort of look enters his eyes.
“How much have you had to drink?” he asks.
I lift the red Solo cup that I’ve refilled an untold number of times and shout, “Not enough!”
He blinks. “You’re fucking wrecked, Princess.”
I laugh again. “Y up! ” I say, popping the end of the word out of my mouth before rushing headlong into yet another giggle-fest. I can’t seem to help it. Everything is so fucking funny. From the way he’s standing over me with his eyebrows lowered and his lips twisted into a scowl and his arms crossed over his chest. I like that pose on him. It stretches the black cotton fabric of his shirt over the bulges of his biceps.
My eyes lock onto those biceps of his. I want to touch him, taste him. Of all the Scorpion Kings, he’s still the one I haven’t fucked. That’s not fair either.
“Stop being such a towering god and come lay down,” I say, patting the ground beside me.
Nolan shakes his head. “Not a good idea.”
“Then what the hell are you standing there for?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Playing bodyguard.”
“Bodyguard?” I snort. “For who? Me … or those bitches?” I wave my hand in the direction of the party. The sound of hard rock blending into rap echoes back at us from the bonfire.
“Both,” he replies.
I snort again and shake my head. “As if anything could protect them from me if I really wanted to do some damage,” I mutter, more to myself than him.
One thick, dark eyebrow arches up, and he takes a step forward and then another and another until he’s more than just hovering, he’s practically bending over my body. A thin silver chain drops out of the collar of his shirt and dangles between us, the dim light from the fire making it shine in certain spots, catching my attention as he speaks.
“Lex was right,” he says.
I hum in the back of my throat as I stare at that chain. “Hmmm. ‘Bout what?”
“You get more interesting with each passing day.”
My hand snaps out and I grab ahold of his chain, yanking down just as he uncrosses his arms, and he closes his hand around my wrist to keep me from pulling it straight off.
“Don’t.” He bites the word out, but I don’t listen.
Despite the grip on my wrist growing tight enough to bruise, I pull harder until Nolan is forced to go to his knees over me. “ Juliet .” My name is a warning on his lips. Pretty lips. Full. Masculine. Still curled down into that ever-present scowl.
I twist the chain around my fingers, tugging once more as I lift up and press my mouth to his. His grip immediately releases me. Nolan’s fists punch the ground on either side of my head. “You’re playing a dangerous fucking game, Juliet,” he warns me, pulling away from my kiss. “You’ve been drinking.”
I lick my lips, savoring the taste of him on my tongue. If he’s had a drink tonight, there’s no taste of it on him. It’s all mint and sexual heat. Nolan’s gaze follows the trail of my tongue over my bottom lip. “Who said I’m playing a game?” I ask, grinning.
His eyes aren’t their normal cinnamon color tonight. No, with the shadows over the upper half of his face, they’re pitch black and almost devilish. Molten lust stares back at me. “I’m only going to give you one warning, Juliet,” he says, his voice low and vibrating. “You kiss me again and I’ll fuck your pussy so raw, you’ll be begging me to stop.”
My breath explodes out of my chest at the mental image that conjures. That sounded just fine to me. “Is that a promise or a threat?” I tease. Without giving him a chance to respond, my lips spread into a smile and I lean towards him. Just before I press my lips back to his, though, he backs his head up and glares down at me.
“Both,” he says. “If you kiss me again, then I have to tell you, that’s all the consent I’ll need—alcohol or not. I’ll fuck you until you think you’re going to break, Princess. Then I’ll fuck you until you do break.”
“Why haven’t you?” I ask, breathy and curious. I’ve been around them for months at this point. I’ve lived with him. I’m living with him again. Yet other than that one night, the night I killed my attacker, he hasn’t touched me again.
“Why haven’t I what?”
“Fucked me.”
He draws in a sharp breath, as if the very word is enough to set him off. I half expect him to throw away his ridiculous promise to not touch me until I’ve kissed him again. He doesn’t. Instead, he remains positioned over me, both fists in the ground as his knees lower to the stretch of grass above my head. We stare at each other for a long time, it seems.
“You left.”
I frown. “And if I hadn’t? Would you have fucked me if I stayed?”
Nolan groans, a sound so deep and resonating that I feel it all the way to my core and he’s not even touching me yet. “Princess…” He finds my gaze again. “If you had stayed, I wouldn’t have been able to keep you in my bed every single fucking night and not have touched you.”
“I’m in your bed now,” I remind him before thinking better of it. “Well, not like… right now , but I’m staying with you again.” The more I talk, the less I feel the effects of the alcohol. My back is to the ground and Nolan is above me, blocking out the sky— becoming my sky.
“This is just liquid courage talking right now, Jules,” Nolan says, his voice dipping low as if the two of us are the only people around. We’re so close that even his whisper feels loud.
Without tearing my eyes from his, I lift my cup again and then slowly, intentionally, tip it over and dump the remaining alcohol onto the grass before tossing it away from us.
“I’m not drinking now,” I say.
My chest rises and falls as I issue that challenge. His gaze sharpens on me and he bares his teeth. Still, he doesn’t touch me.
“I’m no rapist.”
I nearly jolt at the low hiss from him. “No,” I agree. “You’re not.” My need to touch him grows heavier and heavier inside me, until it’s almost impossible to resist. His skin is smooth above the stubble on his cheek. His nose is straight and his jaw … fuck, what would it be like to bite it? To bite lower? To leave a mark on his neck for all to see.
“You’ve been drinking and I haven’t had a?—”
“I want you.” He stops talking. “I wanted you before I started drinking and I’ll want you again after.” It appears that tonight is the night for truth bombs. He goes rock still. Almost as if Nolan himself becomes a statue hovering over me. “I wanted you the night you ate my pussy like cream pie,” I admit, my legs squirming against the grass as I recall the feeling of his lips and tongue and teeth. I’d come screaming all over his mouth and I wanted to do it again.
“You’re…” His voice is pure gravel. “…killing me, Princess.”
Nolan’s breath is warm against my cheek. Just a few inches and I’ll have his lips on mine again. “Tit for tat,” I breathe the words out, a reminder of what he told me.
I never repaid the favor of having that talented mouth of his all over my cunt.
“You better be fucking sure,” he growls, leaning down until those inches become centimeters and a prayer. “You better think twice before you put your lips on mine again because if you do, that won’t be the only place they’ll go tonight.”
My eyes jerk down to the front of his jeans. Fire dances in my veins when I see the strain of his tented zipper.
“If you kiss me again, Juliet,” Nolan rumbles, drawing my attention back to his face. “I’m going to ruin you. I’m going to mold your cunt to my cock until you don’t remember what it felt like to have another man inside of you.”
My lips twist at that. “Not even Lex or Gio?”
When he smiles at my taunt, it’s a feral thing. He raises one fist from the ground and opens his palm, hovering it next to my cheek. Just close enough that I can feel the heat, but he never touches me. A whimper of need builds in my throat.
“They are me,” he whispers against my face. “I am them. Everything I do to you, they will do too. You make this choice and that’s it for you, Jules. We will own you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nods.
“Even with my demons?” I ask.
“Princess…” I close my eyes as his fingers graze my cheek. “I’ve been wanting to fuck your demons since the first day you set foot on Silverwood Public’s campus.”
Something tells me that letting Nolan face my demons is like letting a gladiator and a lion duke it out. I’m not sure who will win, but I know it’ll be a bloody fucking battle to the end.
I nuzzle against the light touch of his fingers. “I still want you,” I murmur. “I want you to make me forget…”
“No.” His fingers grip my chin, and my eyes shoot open to find his mouth farther away as he frowns down at me. “No forgetting. You don’t get to do that.”
“What?” I blink up at him, confusion swirling through me as I try to bat away the lingering effects of the alcohol.
“You want me? Fine. But don’t you fucking dare use me—use any of us—like we’re drugs. Don’t use us to hide from what you don’t want to face. You’re no coward.”
“You don’t want to feel used?” I ask. “Fine. I won’t.” It’s not like I was planning on any of this anyway. All I’d wanted was to go to school, get my fucking degree, and get out. They were the ones who came after me. They were the ones who pushed themselves into my life and won’t leave.
Nolan’s eyes soften and his fingers loosen their grip. “I said don’t use us like we’re drugs, Princess.” I swallow roughly, staring into his eyes. “We’re not disposable and neither are you.” He draws closer until the sharp spice of his clean scent washes over me. I inhale deeply. It’s hard not to think of them as drugs when he smells as addictive as one. “Use us to feel safe,” he says. “To feel whole. To feel…” Nolan doesn’t finish his words, letting them drift into the night air.
Will he stretch me out first or just fuck me until I cry?
I shake my head at that thought. No, no way. I don’t cry over sex. I don’t cry at all. It’s a waste of fucking time.
Most of my life has been wasted on crying and fake smiles. It’s been wasted on the performance of a play I never even wanted to be a part of. I was almost thankful for the shitstorm my life had turned into in the last couple of months. After all, you never know who you truly are until the skin has been peeled off your back and you learn to survive without it.
Now, I know the truth. I’m stronger than I ever was. I’m not someone’s lackey, not some preppy bitch’s bff, or even some douche’s girlfriend. I’m me. Juliet Donovan. And despite Nolan’s warning, I realize, I really fucking want to kiss him again and I want him to follow through on all of his dark promises.
I carefully push up on my elbows. He doesn’t back down, letting me close the gap between us all on my own. Now that he’s made his intentions clear, Nolan is waiting for me to make the decision. Kiss him. Fuck him. Let him shove his cock inside me and ride the wave that is the leader of the Scorpion Kings. Or back off and go back to my mildly safe and definitely boring ass life as a girl running from any sort of attachment.
This doesn’t have to be anything more, I tell myself as I draw closer and closer to his face. One kiss. One fuck. A night of pleasure and curiosity unbound.
I’m such a fucking liar.
When I press my lips to Nolan’s for a second time, neither of us close our eyes. Instead, we lock onto the other’s gaze with little intention of pulling away. His mouth opens and his tongue dives forward to tangle with my own. A little groan rumbles up my throat as he sucks my tongue into his mouth.
He doesn’t touch me anywhere else. The only connection between us is the feeling of his lips and tongue and the harsh glare of his gaze. It’s too late now. I’m tired of wanting something I can never have.