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He’d almost been mine.

When he’d followed me upstairs in that warehouse, just like I’d hoped he would, I anticipated his touch the whole time. I begged for it in my head.

Just one touch, and I would know he wanted me like I wanted him, and I could be happy.

And then his hand came around my neck, and he pulled me into his chest, and I was his. It was done. Now I knew, and there was no turning back. No stopping.

Why did he ruin it?

He’d told me today in the catacombs that he wanted what he wasn’t supposed to have. He wanted to live without rules and defy everyone else’s expectations, and what did he do? He gave into them instead. He tied my hands and his.

He let the fear of his father and the threat of his brother hold us back, and what was worse, he wanted to put the same restraints on me that he was trying to shed.

I didn’t want anything planned. That wasn’t Michael, and it wasn’t me. I wanted the thrill and the playing, the drama and the fights, the passion and the craving.

I wanted to fucking frustrate him and drive him wild, but I couldn’t do that when he tried to micro-manage everything.

I wanted it all to be out of our control, because we had no choice but to dive in.

But that was short-lived. He pulled back, held back, laid down rules…

Fucking rules? How could he do that? That wasn’t us. We weren’t going to care what others thought, and we wouldn’t ask permission.

And in the span of sixty seconds I went from being the heartbeat in his chest to feeling like nothing more than his little plaything, pliable and unimportant. I damn-well knew someone like Michael Crist wasn’t going to stay celibate for a year, waiting for me to turn eighteen, either. I knew he wanted me. I felt as much when he ground between my legs.

But just because he denied himself from having me didn’t mean he’d deny himself altogether. I wasn’t that naïve.

Tomorrow he’d ignore me, and it would be as if this night had never happened. I’d want to be invisible in his presence, and even though I shouldn’t be, I’d feel embarrassed around him.

I dropped my head, strands of my hair spilling out of the hood as I walked down the dark road, the glistening blacktop reflecting the moon’s light.

I missed him already. And hated him.

A horn blared from behind me, and I whipped around, my heart jumping as I backed away, making sure I was off the road.

I stilled, seeing Michael’s Mercedes G-Class, and waited as it pulled up next to me.

Damon drove.

“Come on,” he told me. “Get in. We’ll take you home.”

I backed away, spying Kai in the passenger seat with his mask on. Will sat in the back, slouched down and looking two seconds from passing out. I didn’t see Michael.

I shook my head. “It’s not that far. I’m fine.”

I turned to keep walking, but Damon called after me, “Michael told us to make sure you got home. I don’t care what happened between you two, but we’re not letting you walk. Get in.”

Stopping, I looked ahead at the pitch black night on what I knew was a six-mile walk. So they hadn’t left me then?

My anger softened. My pride may be hurt, but that was no excuse to be stupid.

I averted my eyes, not wanting him to see how grateful I was, and opened the back door, sliding into my same seat.

Damon immediately laid on the gas, speeding down the road as Combichrist’s Feed the Fire played on the stereo.

I narrowed my eyes on Kai, noticing his mask and drawn hood and wondering why he was so quiet. Giving Will a sideways glance, I noticed his hooded eyes as he leaned back on the headrest. Turning my eyes back up front, I looked up, seeing Damon watch me from the rearview mirror.

“Why are you wearing your mask?” I asked Kai.

But it was Damon who answered. “The night’s not over yet,” he replied in a teasing tone.

But I suddenly felt unease creep into my chest.

We raced down the lonely highway, getting closer and closer to my house, so I pushed my concern away. They might be heading out elsewhere for more fun, but they were taking me home. Damon was always creepy. It was just my nerves.

“You want him, don’t you?” Damon stared out at the road. “Michael, I mean.”

I stayed silent, hardening my jaw and turning my eyes out the window. Damon wasn’t interested in anything but fucking with my head, and even if he did want to just talk, I had no intention of confessing to Michael’s friends how big of a fool I’d just made of myself.

“Shit,” Will groaned, his tired body swaying with the car. “She’s ready to ride a fence post with how horny she is for him.”

Both of them chuckled, and I narrowed my eyes, trying to stay hard. They were laughing at me.

“Don’t be an asshole, man,” Damon joked. “Maybe she’s just horny, period. Bitches have needs, too, after all.”

Will breathed out a laugh, and I sat frozen, waiting for my house to appear. What the hell was going on? They didn’t act like this with Michael around, and why wasn’t Kai stepping in like he had every time Damon got out of line today?

I glanced at him in the passenger seat. He remained motionless and silent.

“We’re just messing with you,” Will drawled. “We do it to each other, too.”

I turned, seeing him give me a lazy smile before he closed his eyes.

“You know, the thing about Michael…” Damon went on, cocking his head as he relaxed it against the seat, “he wants you, too. He watches you. Did you know that?” He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Man, the look on his face when he saw you dancing tonight.”


Tags: Penelope Douglas Romance