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That feeling of wanting nothing else, and I would rather never eat again than not have him.

I don’t want to…make you dirty.

“I will find out what you’re keeping from me,” Michael growled as the bed rocked.

“You can try.”

“I should pull out right now and fucking leave you like this.”

“No, please,” she whimpered.

“Or maybe I’ll just have lots of fun getting the answer out of you. Flip over.”

Weight shifted, her body turning over maybe, and I knew the position they were in. I hadn’t done that yet, but I wanted to. Someday.

You won’t make me dirty. There is no you. There is no me. This is us. Us.

My eyes burned, and my chin trembled. I didn’t want to do those things with just anyone, though.

A body pressed into my back and I blinked, swallowing the tears in my throat.

“I was supposed to come to you for our next appointment,” Will teased, resting his head on my shoulder.

Upstairs, Rika and Michael went at it, growing louder and harder.

“Don’t worry,” he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. “I won’t tell them you were eavesdropping.”

I turned around, but he wouldn’t let me leave. I smelled liquor on his breath. Had he not been to bed yet, either?

“You have this look on your face,” he told me, keeping his voice low and intimate. “Are you wishing someone would do that to you or are you remembering when someone did that to you?”

That. Meaning Michael and Rika’s fucking.

I pushed past him and descended the stairs, finding my way through the great room and to the front door again.

“Need a ride home?” he asked.

“You’re drunk.” I pulled the door open. “I’ll call someone.”

I slammed the door, not caring if Michael and Rika heard me at that point, and walked down the stairs, rain pummeling my hat and shoulders.

The door behind me opened again, and before I knew it, I was swung around, engulfed in strong arms, with a mouth on mine and tongue inside me.

I grunted, trying to push him away as I tasted the faint remnants of whiskey, his tongue brushing mine and playing with me. Forced up on my toes, Will devoured me, gripping the back of my neck, his breath and heat filtering through my body like syrup, down to my toes. Every inch of me suddenly starving.

He pulled away from my mouth, but kept me in his arms. “You need to get fucked and bad,” he told me. “If you don’t want him to do it, I will.” Then he leaned in, whispering over my mouth. “And I would make that offer sober.”

He let me go, and I inhaled shallow breaths, the cool rain welcome on my hot skin.

“See you soon, Winter,” he taunted and went back into the house.

I stood there for a moment, waiting to get my shaking under control before I ordered another ride.

He might be right. I was twenty-one, plenty old enough to have a healthy, active sex life, but when it did happen again, I wanted it to be like it was for Erika and Michael. They seemed to like to play games, but it was passionate, and it was love.

The love was what felt good. Unfortunately, it had been one-sided in my past experience. I could be tempted to take Will up on his offer to let off some steam, but he wouldn’t be more than that. I wanted him as a friend.

The real question was, was he on Damon’s side or mine?


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance