Chapter 12 #2
“I’m not scared of you, little filly,” I respond, tightening my grasp on her legs.
That only makes her fight harder and, in turn, makes my cock stiffer. I ignore the ache behind my zipper and nudge the door open with my foot.
“I’m taking her outside to get some fresh air,” I yell to Saint, who is across the bar talking on her phone. Don’t know if she heard me, but it doesn’t matter. One way or another, she’ll find us. I breathe a sigh of relief once we’re outside.
“I hate you!” Allie yells, and this time, there is some heat behind her words.
I swat her on the ass. The slap makes my palm sting, so I can only imagine how her ass cheek feels. “Stop lying.”
“I’m not lying. I hate you. I hate you so much.
Now put me down, or you’re going to regret it!
” Her nails bite into the back of my neck, and I grit my teeth at the sudden pinpricks of pain.
Fuck, the way she hurts me feels so good.
If only she weren’t acting like a brat, I could enjoy this moment a little bit more.
“I’m sure,” I say and walk us around the side of the building so we’re clear of any witnesses. Once we’re out of sight, I place her on her feet. She sways unsteadily, her legs wobbling like a newborn calf.
I reach for her, worried she’s going to crumple to the ground, but she doesn’t.
She catches herself against the wall, then swats my hands away like they’re annoying flies. There’s a scowl on her face. How dare she be mad at me when it was her behavior that got her here in the first place? She should be thanking me.
“Happy now?” I yell.
Taking a step forward, she shoves me. “No, I’m not happy. I want to go back inside and keep drinking and dancing. You ruined my night, just like you ruin everything.”
Her fucking audacity. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t own me, Kade. You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do.” She’s right, she doesn’t belong to me, and she isn’t my responsibility, but that doesn’t mean a fucking thing to me. Not when she’s in my fucking soul.
“You’re right. I guess I should’ve just left you to strip in front of all those guys,” I shout right in her face.
“You should’ve. I’m a big girl. I can make my own choices.” I notice the goose bumps that pebble her skin, and when she wraps her arms around her middle to warm herself up, I can’t stand it.
“Could’ve fooled me.” I snort and shrug off my jacket to drape it across her shoulders, careful not to touch her bare skin. It’s long enough that it falls past her hips, swallowing her frame. Our size difference has always been humorous to me.
“I don’t want your dumb jacket.” She tries to shrug it off, but I snag the plackets and hold it closed around her.
“Ask me if I give a fuck about what you want right now?” I snarl in her face. “I can’t believe you thought I was going to leave you in that bar, vulnerable to all those men.”
Yeah, I’m a monster, but I’m her monster.
She barks out a laugh, and I can smell the whiskey on her breath.
“Don’t pretend to be a gentleman when we both know you ‘rescuing’ me has nothing to do with you ‘caring’ about me, and everything to do with you not wanting anyone else to touch or look at what you think is yours.
” I clench my jaw hard enough to cause an ache.
This fucking temptress. She makes my head and my cock throb, sometimes at the same time.
“That little act in there was nothing but a dog marking his territory.”
Anger and lust swirl in my veins and seep into all the holes of the wall I’ve been trying to keep up to protect myself from her.
So what if she’s right and sees right through every word I say?
Does it matter? I can’t change it. I can’t make myself not give a fuck about her, no matter how hard I try.
“Excuse me for giving a fuck. God knows someone needs to, since clearly you don’t, with all your slurring and stumbling around.”
“That’s rich, coming from you. Weren’t you in the drunk tank like a week ago?” She tries to shove me away but barely moves me. “Tell me, Kade. Is what I said the truth? Is it about possession? Is it because, even if you shouldn’t, even if it’s wrong, you still want me?”
She blinks hard at me. I can’t tell if she’s trying to focus on me or glare at me.
Do I tell her the truth? Will she even remember this conversation tomorrow?
I lean in, bracing my forearm against the wall above her head. She shrinks back as far as she can, trying to put distance between us, but there’s nowhere for her to go.
“What would it say about me if I were to say yes?”
“That you’re fucked up and should get some mental help.”
“Then I guess I need fucking therapy because seeing you like that, with those assholes trying to offer you money to take your clothes off, made me feral. It wouldn’t have taken much for me to kill one of them for putting their hands on you.
And Allie, it would’ve been worth it.” I grip her chin and force her unfocused gaze to meet mine.
“In case you haven’t noticed, when it comes to you, there is no law, boundary, or rule that I won’t break. ”
“What is wrong with you? Why can’t you get it through your head that I don’t belong to you?
” She presses her left hand to my chest like she wants to push me away—as if she could.
I glance down at her hand against my chest. Suddenly, I wish I could take back the words I just spoke.
Subconsciously, I know confessing my feelings to her is pointless.
She’s engaged to another man. She’s marrying another man.
Or maybe she’s not? And that’s why her ring is missing. Stupid hope blooms in my chest.
I drag my attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “No ring tonight? Is that why you’re out drinking yourself into oblivion? Did your fiancé find out his bride isn’t as pure as he thought?”
Her mouth falls open, and her already flushed cheeks flash even pinker. “No. The wedding is still on.”
Of course it is. I lean closer and drag the scent of her hair into my lungs.
I need this. I need her. The smell of beer and sweat clings to her skin, but beneath that is her unique scent.
It’s unfair that she smells so good, like flowers and vanilla.
Like candy. I close my eyes, and this time, I take a deep breath through my nose, soaking her in.
After a moment, I say, “You know it doesn’t matter to me, right?
If you’re married to another man.” It’s pathetic how weak I am for this woman.
“I don’t give a fuck if another man’s ring is on your finger, if you have another man’s last name, or if you have another man’s children.
It doesn’t mean shit. It doesn’t change that you’re mine, Allie. All. Fucking. Mine.”
“Don’t talk like that,” she whispers, turning her face away. “Stop.”
“Make me,” I whisper, and my lips graze her ear.
Her mouth says one thing, but her body means another.
She’s trembling, and a shiver ripples through her at the slightest touch.
Now would be the perfect time to tell her we’re not really related.
End the manipulation. But dammit, a part of me still wants to keep her dangling.
To make her suffer like I’m suffering. And it’s clear she is suffering.
Melting against me because she can’t fight the way her body reaches for mine when I thrust my hips to press my hardening cock against her.
“Is it that you can’t or you don’t want to?” I whisper the words and trace the line of her throat with my tongue. “Or maybe it’s that you don’t even believe the lies you keep feeding yourself.” The taste of her skin ignites something in me I thought dead.
Just like dear ole Dad. But this, this is like a spark in the dark. I chase the feeling, scraping at her skin with my teeth, nipping, kissing my way back up her throat until I trace her jaw with my lips, then find her waiting mouth.
She whimpers, but the sound doesn’t stop me from sliding my tongue between her lips and plunging deep into her warm mouth. How did I think I could live without tasting her again?
I need her like I need air and water, and that’s enough to make me hate her a little bit more.
Only she has the power to make me this weak. To undo me. Unman me. Unmake me.
She whines, the sound scraping out of her throat.
The sound unravels me. It’s like gasoline being poured on an already out-of-control fire.
In typical Allie fashion, she tries to fight it, her feelings, her thoughts, but her body won’t let her.
Especially not once I slide a hand under her skirt to caress the curve of her perfect ass.
I pull back, breaking the kiss, my chest heaving.
“It’s okay to give in to temptation,” I whisper before tugging her bottom lip between my teeth.
“To lie to yourself.” I nip at her again, and she shudders and moans, arching her back to press her tits against me.
“But you can’t lie to me. I know you. Know your body.
Your mind. You’re mine. You belong to me. ”
“I don’t. I don’t…” Despite her words, her head falls back, giving me access to her throat again. I could almost laugh at how desperate she looks right now. Fighting against her body and thoughts. I suck on the sensitive flesh at her throat and trace her collarbone with my tongue.
“Yes, you do.” I have never been so sure of anything.
“You can’t fight it. Neither of us can.” I lift my head and stare down at her.
“You’re mine, and you will always be mine.
No matter who you fuck or marry, you’ll never be satisfied or happy because it’s me you really want. Not your fiancé, or anyone else.”
Her eyes flash open, and some of the desire and lustful haze diminishes.
“You’re wrong. I don’t want you. I don’t want anything to do with you.
” Somehow, she manages to dig an elbow into my ribs, and it’s enough to make me back away.
That only gives her space to shove me, and when that doesn’t seem to appease her, she starts slapping at my chest and shoulders.
“Is this who you are, Kade? A sick, twisted asshole who wants to screw his own sister?”
I have two options: continue with the charade or spill the beans.
I’m tempted enough to see what she does, so I decide to continue.
“Don’t act like you aren’t as sick and twisted as I am.
Pressing your tits against my chest, all but begging me to fuck you not even five seconds ago.
” She can play the victim to everyone else but not me.
I know better. I see her want and desire as clear as day.
Shame fills her eyes, and her cheeks grow red. I’m almost tempted to confess the truth right now just to wipe that look off her face. “It was a mistake. An immoral, disgusting mistake that I won’t be making again.”
“Disgusting or not, you can’t help yourself any more than I can.”
Something hot blazes in her eyes as she glares up at me, and her perfect, plump lips part, as if she’s going to say something, but before she can, we’re interrupted.
“Allie? Are you out here?” someone calls.
Probably fucking Saint. Her feet crunch against the bits of loose rock and gravel around the entrance, telling us both exactly where her friend is.
That’s all it takes to make Allie push away from the wall and strip off my jacket.
“Leave me alone,” she warns, thrusting the jacket at me.
“Or I’ll tell our mom about what you’re doing. ”
It’s nothing more than a scare tactic. Allie would be far too ashamed and disgusted with herself to tell her mother, plus then her mother would be forced to tell her the truth. Then again, maybe I should encourage her to tell our mother.
“We both know you’re too ashamed and disgusted to admit such a dark and twisted secret out loud, let alone to our mother, little filly.”
Saint appears around the corner of the building, and Allie sets off toward her.
“Wonder what your fiancé would think if he found out?” I whisper as she walks away.
And I hate myself for it. I always have to get in one last punch. Can’t leave well enough alone. Another lesson learned at Roman’s hands. Under Roman’s fists.
She doesn’t even glance back. “Go fuck yourself, prick!”
Saint passes Allie her jacket, and they lean into each other, murmuring as they walk away. I don’t miss the flash of relief that flickers in Saint’s eyes as she glances back to me over her shoulder. She thinks I did this for her, but she has no idea the real truth.
That I did this for Allie, because I’m not over her, because I want her to be mine so fucking badly it hurts. She might not want to admit it to herself, but once I tell her we aren’t related, I’ll prove to her just how much she is mine.