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Fuck.It feels so good inside her. Tight, warm, wet. Like she was molded just for me. Every muscle inside me contracts. My breaths become ragged and audible.
Rolling my hips, I fuck her hard and fast. Our bodies vibrate against each other’s while she slides inch by inch on the mauve-printed carpet.
Scar shivers. Her hands come up, grabbing my face and pulling it to hers. “Shut me up before I make a scene.”
I slam my mouth against hers so hard our teeth clank. With a slightly tilted head, I slip my tongue between her lips and it dances with hers. Whimpers flee into my mouth. A mixture of moans and cries and silent pleas.
Sliding a hand between us, I lift her shirt, exposing her stomach.
“Fuck, Crew,” she finally says my name, and it’s music to my ears.
My balls tighten and I grunt, as I pull out and release, her belly button fills with beads of cum.
Scar lies flat on the ground, staring at the ceiling while I hover over her. We’re both left panting through shallow breaths, and I give her a minute to collect her thoughts and pull herself together.
Using her ripped panties, I wipe up the proof of my orgasm on her stomach, then I get my clothes back on.
One glance at her and I see the regret in her eyes. Swallowing down the indignation I’m feeling about her reaction, I stuff her worn, ripped panties on the bookshelf between Stephen King’sThe Dead ZoneandDesperation.
“Hey, Crew?” she says, adjusting her knee-high sock.
“Yeah?”
Her eyes peer up as she adjusts the other. “Who do you think is doing all that stuff to me?”
Her guess is as good as mine. I know whoever it is, though, they won’t be here for long.
“No clue. But I told you I’ll find out.”I angle my head toward an exit at the right end of the aisle. “Come on. If we go out this way, no one will suspect a thing.”
I’m not sure why I do it, considering kindness isn’t my strong suit, but I walk her out with a hand pressed to the small of her back.
ChapterEighteen
SCARLETT
It’s beentwo days since Crew and I had the most amazing hate-sex I’ve ever experienced. Partially, because I’ve never had hate-sex, but if I had anything to compare it to, I’d say it was the most amazing. It was intense, to say the least. My body exploded with so many emotions—anger, desire, loathing, lust, and relief. Now that those emotions have been expelled, I’m left with only one. Fear.
I still don’t know who my stalker is, but I know I have one. Someone is watching me, threatening me, toying with me. I’ve eliminated Crew and Jagger from that equation, based on my own assessment. Their words and expressions gave me every reason to believe they were telling the truth. That’s not to say my guard is down with them, but in that situation, I’m sure I can trust what they’re telling me.
At this point, Neo is my top suspect. He has motive and means. Neo is also the puppeteer of The Lawless, and even before taking on that leadership, he was a master manipulator when it came to his friends. Crew and Jagger have always looked up to him, and honestly, I think they feel bad for him. It’s no secret that Neo’s dad is the biggest asshole of The Elders. I’ve even heard my mom talk about how she’s never liked the guy, even if they are forced to interact at social gatherings. My dad, on the other hand, is a big fan. Which also leads me to believe that Sebastian is my dad’s Neo—his puppeteer.
“Ready, girl? Shuttle’s here.”
Knotting my black-and-gray flannel around my waist, I nod and ask, “Do you know anything about the games being played tonight?”
Riley shakes her head. “No. We’re not supposed to know when the games are happening. Why? Do you know something?”
I grab my messenger bag off my bed and lift the safety-pinned straps over my head, crossing them over my chest. “I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to, but yeah, Jagger said the guys are doing something tonight.”
“Yeah. He probably wasn’t supposed to tell you that, but it seems those guys do a lot of things with you and for you that they're not supposed to do.”
I laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Riley walks out the door to the hall and I click the lock before closing it behind me.
“They favor you. Everyone sees it.”
I glance at her, eyebrows knitted. “Favor me? More like torture me.”
