Summer #2
“But beating this guy up wasn’t enough for my brother.
Milo set his custom-made BMW on fire. The next day, a news crew showed up at our school to report on the events.
My dad was called in after Milo got into a fight with one of that BMW asshole’s friends.
Guess who made it into the background of the shot, which was front-page news?
We knew we were fucked, and we had to pack and leave fast. But we weren’t fast enough. ”
Turning the water on, I adjust it to a pleasantly warm temperature. Atlas tries to pull me in with him, but I slip away from his grip, heading for the first aid kit, while the soot and the blood wash off his body.
“For the longest time, I blamed myself. If I hadn’t been at that party, Milo wouldn’t have beaten that guy up and set his car on fire. Then my dad wouldn’t have made it into the background of the front-page news, leading to us being found. See how the chain of events unfolds?”
When I get back to Atlas, he hasn’t moved, eyes following me unremittingly.
“Is it my fault they are dead?”
“No.” His answer comes before the question mark settles. “Of course not.”
“Do you understand now what I’m telling you? You were not the one who left that man to burn, nor the one who ordered it.”
I pass him a towel that he wraps around his waist after getting out of the shower.
God, he’s a sight I’d never stop looking at if I could.
“Summer . . .” The sonorous tone of his voice makes that name sound like a prayer. “The way I acted this morning and throughout the day . . . I didn’t—”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
I lead him to the sink so I can disinfect his bruised and bloodied fists.
A single knuckle down is when he yanks my hand up to his face, honing in on the Band-Aid there.
“What happened?” He sounds like he’s ready to kill someone else next.
Fuck. The snakes. I’m not a fan of those fuckers. Guess the feeling’s mutual. But now I feel bad for what I did.
“A snake bit me,” I admit in a low voice, while pulling his hand down to continue cleaning it.
“A what bit you?”
“I thought you were playing me. I got sad, but then chose to get mad instead and . . . I filled your bed with snakes.” I bat my lashes, like that would make my words fly under the radar.
And there it is, that look again as he goes speechless.
“I’m sorry! I’ll get rid of them.” He still says nothing. “Are you mad at me?”
“Mad at you?!” Atlas snorts out a laugh. “Honey, I’m in a bit of a pickle here. I hear what you’re saying, but all I can think of is I’m the luckiest man alive to have bumped into you.”
He feels it too. It’s not a simple attraction, nor is it lust. It’s so much more that makes us fit in every way.
Sick, twisted, fucked-up—that’s us. But that’s exactly why we get each other better than anyone else ever could.
He’s my half. Not the better one. We’re both bad in a way, and a good half could never fit with us.
“Technically, I bumped into you, but you were rude, and there was no way I was going to apologize when you were like that.”
I’m all done cleaning up his knuckles when he cages me in his arms, kissing me in a way that can make my heart crawl out of my throat and kiss him itself—an all-consuming, forget-about-the-world-because-it’s-just-us kiss.
And I do forget everything else with him.
No more games. Or more like I don’t know if it ever was just games.
All I gave him was real. All but my name and the reason I entered his life.
I’ll have to find a different path for my vengeance, because hurting him is no longer a scenario I’m willing to let unfold.
I pull him closer while he unzips my dress without permission. Atlas only pauses when I shoot him the I-know-what-you’re-doing look, before it pools at my feet.
Taking his hand into mine, I lead the way. It took everything in me to deny myself two nights in a row, but tonight I take those steps for my bed with anything but restraint.
“Did it choke and die?” Atlas’s voice travels from behind me.
“What?” I half turn, still not stopping in my tracks.
“The snake. Did it choke and die when it bit you?”
I chuckle.
“I’m sure if you check under your sheets, you’ll find one dead snake amongst the rest. You’re the only one immune to my poison. You bite me.”
Facing him, I get on the edge of the bed.
“I bite you.” I pull him closer. “And you haven’t choked and died.”
I let myself indulge in the sight of the deep V of his abs for a brief moment before pulling the towel away with a fling of my hand, and his dick is more than happy to see me. My mouth waters as the memory of him down my throat resurfaces.
“What? The ‘naked in bed’ rule goes both ways.”
“For what it’s worth,”—he follows me on the bed, inching closer to me—“I’m far from immune. My fate is worse than death, having you inside every corner of my mind, unable to escape the thoughts of you even for a second.”
A coy expression hides the elation surging inside me. I am in his head, like I wanted. But he’s in mine, just as much.
His hand reaches for me, but I use all the force I can muster to push him off, making him land on his ass, back against the headboard. Before he can blink, I’m straddling him, but he seems more than pleased with that outcome.
Atlas reaches for my panties, and they bite into my skin for a brief second before they are gone. I look down, then back up, only to find him smirking.
“I’m not fucking you tonight,” I state in a firm tone.
“You’re not?”
He pretends to try to put my ripped panties back on.
“Oh, well! I tried.”
Showing off his commercial-worthy smile, he discards them in a demonstrative way.
“I’m not fucking you tonight, even though it might look like that’s exactly what I’ll be doing.
Tomorrow, we’ll fuck each other’s brains out, but not tonight.
Tonight, it’s . . . something else.” His expression turns confused.
“You haven’t done that, have you?” He doesn’t respond, only tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“It will be a first for me, too,” I add, and the minuscule tilt of the corners of his lips is his answer.
My heart goes bonkers inside my chest, clawing and throwing punches at my ribs like it wants out before the consequences arrive, while my whole body hums in anticipation, aching not just to be filled, but to be claimed by him.
His hands skim the skin of my neck, my breasts, and the only thing burning more than his touch are his eyes on me.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t imagined this moment so many times already, yet it was never like this.
Grinding my pussy along his length, I can feel just how soaked I am, my slick arousal coating every inch of him, as I slide back and forth, the friction so perfect that his name slips on a broken moan—a prayer for more and a curse for the mess he’s turning me into.
There’s so much of him, it’s intimidating, but yes, my reckless cunt is begging for all of it.