You can’t have her. I’ll…
“Kill me, so I’m out of your way!” he bellowed. “If you did it right last time I’d be at the bottom of the fucking ocean, so finish the job, and then you can have her!”
An image of him sinking below the deep, black surface of the sea cra
wled into my head, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get rid of it.
He would’ve been gone forever.
“Fucking kill me,” he said, his voice even and suddenly calm.
“No.”
“Kill me. You’re going to have to.”
I shook my head.
He grabbed me by the collar, screaming, “Do it!”
And I grabbed his neck in my hands, ramming him into the wall of the pool house. “I can’t!”
He grunted, breathing hard, and I dropped my forehead to his, unable to swallow the fucking needles in my throat.
“Fuck, I can’t,” I whispered. “Please, stop. Please.”
“I can’t,” he mouthed, and tears streamed down his face. “I can’t.”
I moved my hands to his face, just holding him, and ready to say so much, because I never had to hide anything from him. He never saw weakness when he looked at me. I wanted to tell him things.
I wanted to tell him that I never would’ve hurt him. That I didn’t know what Trevor was doing, and it wasn’t supposed to go down like that, because out of all three of my friends, Will was the one I would always save first. That my pride and anger wouldn’t let me retreat, and that if he had been pulled to the ocean’s bottom, out of my reach, I would’ve followed him.
I would’ve fucking followed him and rotted down there, close to wherever he was, because nothing I would’ve acquired after that—my inheritance or my vengeance on Winter—would’ve been worthwhile without him.
His breath fell on my mouth, and his wet hair behind his head grew warm under my fingers. He needed me. I dug my fingers into his scalp. He had to realize he needed me. No one was going to hold him up like I would.
No one.
I dove in, catching his bottom lip between my teeth and pushing us both through the pool house door.
He stumbled back, snarling and ready to fight me, but I rushed in, sinking my mouth into his and pushing him down onto the couch. I covered his lips with mine, gripping his throat with one hand and holding myself up with the other.
“Fuck you,” he sneered, pulling his mouth away.
I grinned and flicked his lip with my tongue. “Only if you want to.”
Releasing his neck, I yanked his jeans open and slid my hand down inside as he grabbed at my hand, trying to stop me, but I gripped his fucking cock, feeling it was already a little stiff.
“What is she wearing?” I started, stroking him, not giving him time to think. “What is she fucking wearing for you, huh?”
He stopped breathing, closed his eyes, and tipped his head back, letting out a groan. “Damon, stop.”
I hovered my mouth over his, stroking him a little faster as I nudged my knee between his legs, parting them. “What is she wearing?”
He grew full and hard, and I traced my tongue along his bottom lip. “She wants you in her mouth.” I tightened my grip on his cock. “She wants this in her mouth.”
“Yeah.”
And I had him.