“You’ll see.” He turns into the circular driveway facing the country club, and leaves the engine running as he opens the door. “Come around to the trunk.”
He already has the trunk of the Maserati open when I walk around, and it takes me a moment to register what’s inside. When I do, I stare at it, unable to quite believe my eyes for a second.
There’s three cans of gasoline, lighter fluid, and at least a dozen bottles with rags stuffed inside. I might not have ever seen one in person before, but I know very well what those are.
Molotov cocktails.
“Dean—” I whisper his name, feeling a tremor of fear and excitement run through me all at once. “What is all of this doing in your trunk?”
“We’re going to set fire to it,” he says, his tone vicious as he turns towards me. “We’re going to burn their fucking country club down, just like they burned down both of your homes. We’re going to take something away from them that matters. What do you think, Athena? Iknowyou want to burn this fucking town to the ground, after what they’ve done to your family. Want to start here?”
Deep down, I know that of course this is a bad idea. It could never be anything but. I’m willing to bet that Cayde knows nothing about this, and I’m not sure he’d be on board with it if he did. I’m shocked thatDean, of all people, is the one suggesting it. I’m afraid of what the retaliation will be, of what will happen next if we actually do this.
But most of all, I really fucking want to burn this country club to ash.
I remember the day that Dean brought me here for lunch, the way his father and the other men had treated me, the way Winter had behaved. I remember their disrespect, their dismissal, they way they’d seen me as so much less than because I’d been given to the heirs as a pet.
I turn back to face Dean.
“Yeah,” I tell him, that same viciousness in my voice as I hold out my hand for one of the bottles. “Let’s fucking burn it down.”
“First things first.” He pulls one of the cans of gasoline out of the trunk, handing it to me. “Let’s start with this.”
Together, we make a design in the front lawn with the gasoline, tracing out the shape of a skull with a circle around it. I don’t believe for a second that anyone will actually think the Sons are responsible for this, but it’s more symbolic than anything else, to let them know that we’re on to them, to show that we can destroy things too. That we can fight fire with fire, so to speak.
When that’s done, Dean adds lighter fluid to the same path that we just poured the gasoline over, and then we retreat back to the car, where the Molotov cocktails are waiting.
I’ve never so much as seen one before, let alone held it. But Dean strides towards the front of the country club with me, lighting his bottle first and then mine.
And then together, we hurl them through the lower windows of the club.
Something about it triggers something in me. It’s a rush like I’ve never felt, the realization that I’ve just done something technically wrong, definitely illegal, and yet I want to keep doing it. I’ve made the first step towards accomplishing my goal, and as Dean and I go back for pair after pair of the bottles, lighting them and tossing them through windows, I feel that rush start to consume me as I see the building start to catch fire.
“Fuck!” Dean shouts as he throws another. “Fuck you! Fucking take this! Fuck you!”
There’s something crazed in his voice, all of his repressed anger coming out as we hurl the bottles. I scream too, howling curses like a wolf at the moon as the crash of breaking glass fills the air, and the crackling of flames starts to join it. When the last of the Molotov cocktails is gone, Dean lights a match, throwing it onto the lawn as he grabs my hand and we run for the car. I feel his fingers wrapped around mine, gripping hard, and the heat at our back.
As we reach the car, he grabs me suddenly, hauling me into his arms with his hand in my hair as he drags my mouth up to his. His hand makes a fist, tugging at my scalp as his lips slant over mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth roughly, possessively, making my blood burn as hot as the fire at our backs.
“Fuck, I want you,” he growls against my mouth, and I can feel how hard he is, the ridge of his cock pressing against my jean-clad thigh through his sweatpants. His other hand roams down to my ass, squeezing, his fingers digging in as his hips grind against mine.
I moan as he grips me, unable to help myself. I can feel the adrenaline rush changing into something else, the heat of Dean’s body burning against me as he pushes me back against the car, his mouth devouring mine.
“I want to fuck you right here,” he groans, and I reach down to slide my hand over the throbbing ridge of his cock, feeling him pressing against my palm.
Someone could find us at any moment.Somehow the thought only turns me on more, and I slip my hand into Dean’s pants before I can stop myself, wrapping my fingers around him as he moans and surges against me, thrusting into my hand as he kisses me harder.
“Fuck, I need you now.” He grabs at the button of my jeans, yanking at the zipper as he shoves them down over my hips, grabbing me roughly and turning me around. “Hands on the window.”
I obey without thinking, palms pressed against the cold glass, and in the next instant I feel Dean thrusting into me hard, his cock filling my slick, aching pussy in an instant. I throw back my head, moaning as I thrust back against him, and his growl of pleasure is almost a roar as he grabs onto my hips, pumping into me with a ferocity that nearly slams me forward into the car.
Behind us we can hear the building burning, the crash of beams and smell the smoke rising into the air, burning wood and gasoline and lighter fluid, and I know any moment someone will see the smoke, call for help, and we’ll be caught. But I don’t care. Dean feels so fucking good, filling me up, his cock plunging into me again and again, and I’m so fucking close to coming. I feel myself clenching around him, thrusting back as he holds onto my hip, one hand reaching up to fist into my hair as he fucks me harder still. I’m going to be sore tomorrow—I was already sore from Jaxon—but I don’t fucking care. I don’t care about anything except the intense pleasure of his cock and the way he’s making me feel right now, wild and free and as if nothing else in the world matters except for him and I and him inside of me, and the revenge we’re taking against every fucking person who has ever hurt us.
For the first time, it feels really truly as if we’re on the same side. I don’t know how I feel about that, if I trust it completely, but in this moment I don’t care. I just want to lose myself in it.
“Fuck!” I scream as I feel the orgasm hit, throwing my head back as Dean’s hand tightens in my hair, and I feel his hips crashing against the soft curves of my ass, fucking me so hard that I know I’m going to be sore tomorrow as I clench down around him. It feels so fucking good, we could be on fire and I don’t think I’d care as long as I kept coming like this. I almost feel like Iam, my blood rushing hot and violent through my veins, and when I hear Dean growl behind me I can feel my body clenching in a second orgasm on the heels of the first.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he groans, his hips thrusting erratically, and I press my hands against the cold glass, pushing back against his hardening cock as I feel him shudder and start to come.