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A slow burning heat pervaded through my body, building in my core. He thrust inside me, pinching my bundle of nerves at the same time, sending me into a dizzying orbit and turning my vision white. I dug my nails into the wrist around my neck, crying out and feeling my ass clench around his cock. He pulled out a second later, coming on my lower back with a quiet groan.
Neither of us said a word. The death grip he had on my throat slowly loosened, I fought to catch my breath.
I could feel his come sliding between my ass cheeks, running down the backs of my legs.
He sighed, cursing beneath his breath.
“I should have put a bullet in your head when I had the chance.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I swallowed and quickly looked away. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes. I tried not to let it affect me, but it was impossible not to.
He really did hate me.
CHAPTER THIRTY
I could hear her breathing.
She had finally fallen asleep fifteen minutes ago, wrapped up in her terry cloth robe and buried beneath the fresh sheets.
My mind kept replaying the way I’d just taken her. No one would ever hear me admit it aloud, but Willow was more compatible with me than any other woman I’d been with.
There was something about being the only man—and the last—she’d ever be with that made me feel more than I wanted to. We hadn’t spoken one word to each other after my ill-timed confession. I didn’t usually touch women I wanted to kill…or that I was going to kill. There was just so much shit she didn’t know yet. It would always be that way; I’m not sure I could change it if I tried.
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but the first thing I realized when I woke up was that Willow wasn’t in bed anymore and the sun was up. Both of those things spurred me into action.
I made the bed, straightened the pillows, and rushed into the bathroom.
After a quick piss, shower, and trim, I was dressed and heading for the stairs.
I had twelve missed calls, eight emails, and six texts. My life was never dull. Taking my father’s place had me spending less and less time at home. Leaving Willow alone for days at a time wasn’t ideal, but I wouldn’t coddle her either.
I paused as soon as I stepped off the bottom stair, the second my eyes landed on her. She was wearing a jersey dress, sitting in a dining chair and staring out the large windows that made up the back wall of the house. Her usual morning cup of coffee was in her hands, long hair spilling over her shoulders. I would never deny the fact Willow was a gorgeous woman, but that didn’t excuse her sordid past.
I ignored her, making my way into the kitchen. It wasn’t until I had my protein shake in hand that I acknowledged her presence. Or rather, she acknowledged me.
“Why don’t you tell me anything? You know I can’t go anywhere, that I won’t go anywhere if you have my sister. Why keep everything from me?” Her voice was quiet. She wanted answers and, in her position, who wouldn’t? I told her nothing and fed her crumbs of truths bit by bit.
“It’s a little sad that you feel the need to protect Abigail, who’s been getting fucked by my brother in every way imaginable, yet you tried to kill your real sister.”
“I’m tired of talking about her. I understand she may have been the love of your life, but I was a little girl. God, get over it! Abbi is more my sister than Cassie ever was.” She glared at me for all of five seconds before sighing and shaking her head.
“Funny, because Abbi isn’t your sister at all.” I took another sip of my shake, watching her reaction. She furrowed her brows, processing what I’d just said.
“What do you mean, she isn’t my sister?”
“I’m running late, I have to get going. There are some papers on the coffee table you need to fill out.”
I was purposely fucking with her. Did that make me an asshole? Yes. Did I feel bad about it? No. Rinsing my cup, I gathered what I needed and started for the door.
“You’re just going to leave? What did you mean by that?” She followed behind me, anger creeping into her voice.
I turned to face her, mentally noting the way she stopped and made sure there was a good amount of space between us. I smirked at the bruises on her neck. With her hands going to her hips, she gave me a look that could freeze Hell over.
“Rebel, you’re a semi-intelligent girl. If Seth never mentioned that Richard was his brother, I think we can assume it’s because they aren’t related. So…?” I urged her to catch on; all she did was blink up at me.
