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Devil’s Night

Six Years Ago

Tossing my keys on the desk, I closed the door and walked across the room, pulling the curtains closed. I peeled off my sweatshirt, kicked off my shoes, and dug in the top drawer of Damon’s chest of drawers, pulling out some boxers and a T-shirt. Yawning, I walked into the bathroom, the white marble floors feeling cool and smooth under my feet.

My brother wouldn’t be home until at least dawn. Was Kai still planning to go to The Pope tonight? He must’ve gotten that key after our conversation this morning, before he knew that he’d run into me again.

I hated the idea of him going without me.

After tossing my clothes into the hamper, I changed into the shirt and boxers, washed my face, brushed my teeth and hair, and walked out of the bathroom, hitting the light on the way out.

I crawled onto the bed, grabbing the pillow and hugging it as I reached up and pulled the chain on the lamp. The room went dark, the subtle hum of the air conditioning flowing through the house soothing me. My breathing slowed and my heartbeat calmed.

Kai was probably really angry with me. He had no reason not to believe Damon. He probably felt betrayed, lied to, and pissed off.

Pissed off enough to think he damn well should’ve stayed with the devil he knew rather than the devil he didn’t. Maybe he’d be sharing that hotel room with Chloe tonight.

And for some reason, I liked the ache that caused in my chest. Anger was easier, and I almost wanted him to go running to her. It would make him the same as every other man I knew. Self-serving, insincere, and greedy.

If he failed me, I could go back to not minding not having him, right?

I had Damon, after all, and here, I was queen, at least. He never brought girls to his room. He never made me leave, so he could have privacy. This was our space, and no woman was above me in his life at home.

I just had to find contentment in everything I already had.

I yawned again, my eyelids growing heavier and closing.

But then I heard the door behind me open and the floor creak.

I turned my head over my shoulder, tensing when I saw a tall, black figure moving toward the bed. I could just make him out, removing his shirt as he stood over me.

“You’re home already?” I said, remaining still.

But he just replied, “Shhh,” and I didn’t press further as I turned my head back around, staring off into the dark.

He didn’t turn on the light, so I guess that was a good sign he didn’t want to yell at me.

I felt the bed dip behind me, and he laid down, making it creek with his weight.

I don’t know why he wanted me here. I mean, I slept next to him more than I didn’t, but I knew he was mad, so it was better just to give him his space tonight.

But then I felt him at my back as he rolled toward me and snaked an arm around my waist.

My lungs got smaller as I tried to take in more air, and I could feel the vein in my neck pulsing.

What was he doing?

His breath hit my neck, and before I knew what was happening, he was kissing my skin and reached under my shirt, taking my breast possessively in his hand.

A cry caught in my throat. “What are you—”

His hand moved to between my legs, and he gripped me, holding me tight as he thrust his hips against my ass.

“Damon, no!” I cried, scrambling to push his hands away and get off the bed.

But he held me tight. Pushing me onto my back, he climbed on top of me, pinning my hands above my head, and slamming his mouth down on mine, rough and possessive.

I tried to scream through his attack as tears spilled from my eyes. No, no, no, please! Don’t do this. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to twist my head away. Nausea rolled through my stomach like an avalanche. No, no, no…


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance