Page 14 of Breathe Like Hell

“What does that mean?” I breathed, warmth blooming in my core.

“You wanted to fuck with me,” Micah said, letting me grind on his palm. “And now I’m going to fuck with you.”

I sank my teeth into my lower lip, eyes heavy-lidded but still locked right on his.

“I know you don’t like it when I’m angry with you, but you’re going to have to learn to deal with that. You pissed me off. You fucked me up.” He skimmed his middle finger over to the hem of my sleep shorts, pushing them to the side, stretching the fabric to expose my pussy.

“You could’ve stopped me,” I moaned as he slowly pushed a finger inside of me.

“You could’ve been faithful.” He shoved his finger deeper, curling it towards my belly, making my thighs clench. “But you like lying too much.”

Micah added a second finger, his body surrounding mine, and I could hardly keep myself upright.

“That’s okay, though. You know why?”

“Why?” I managed to choke out through the pleasure blurring my thoughts.

He bent his head forward to lick a possessive line up the side of my neck, making me shiver, stopping at my ear again. His teeth scraped my skin when he spoke again. “Because I’ve lied to you a lot more than you’ve lied to me.”

In an instant, he’d entirely removed his touch from my body and was walking back into the kitchen, not turning back to look at me.

My heart sank, my pulse pounding in my ears, dread replacing the butterflies in my stomach, ice wrapping around my overheated body.

I stared at his back, shaken by his abrupt departure, still buzzing from the memory of his hands on me. His words echoed in my mind. I’ve lied to you a lot more than you’ve lied to me. They confirmed a truth I’d long suspected but never had proof for. But I didn’t say anything else, didn’t try to go to him.

I was rational enough to know that wouldn’t work now.

There was only one choice left for me: let Micah Killshaw fuck me up even more than he already had.

CHAPTER FIVE

DAKOTA

My boots scuffed over chipped linoleum, the drone of humming refrigerators filling the space, yellowish light washing down over me, drafts of air conditioning making me shiver.

I swiped the disinfectant wipe back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, despite the counter already being clean of sugar granules and drops of cheap creamer. The coffee station had already been fully organized and cleaned three times by me during my shift today. But I didn’t want to sit at the register with my thoughts, so I’d been trying to keep busy.

The wonky old doorbell chimed electronically as the door swung open, so I slipped back behind the register, tapping my black-polished nails on the laminate. Two young girls browsed the aisles together, excited and giggling like one of them probably just got their license and they were out getting gas alone for the first time. A small smile pushed at my cheeks, and I looked down at the buttons on the register.

I had my license, but I very rarely drove. I’d never had my own car, so my experience consisted mostly of using my brother’s car while he was teaching me how to drive. I’d driven Mila’s car a few times since then, but I wasn’t the most confident driver. It was to be expected when ninety-nine percent of my traveling was done on public transit.

Micah had been the one to drive me to work today, though. I had the feeling he assumed he was going to be picking me up afterwards, but I’d already texted Mila to get me—and lied to Micah about what time my shift ended. My lying had become compulsive, and I didn’t really want to see him again tonight.

Since he’d dropped me off here a few hours ago, my emotions had finally leveled out. I was stressed. Mad at him, mad at myself, mad at Mason. And I was already in trouble with Micah, so why not make it worse?

My thoughts were racing enough as it was, trying to work out exactly what things he’d been lying about. Probably everything. I remembered Mason telling me that Micah was a liar, but I’d been too preoccupied with the gun in his hand at the time to take the words to heart.

Still, all the ways I was sure Micah wanted to hurt me excited the worst parts of my brain, the ones wired to crave punishment and destruction. If he wanted me broken and reliant on him, he was going to get it, no matter what I did.

The two teenage girls that’d been browsing the aisles finally stepped up to the counter with a bag of gummy candy, pretzels, and a bottle of Diet Coke.

“Is this going to be all?” I asked as I started scanning their stuff.

“And twenty dollars of gas,” one of the girls said.

“What pump are you at?”

The girls looked at each other with wide eyes. “Shit—I don’t know.”