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“If you weren’t my bro, I’d fucking kill you,” Kyler says, lifting his beer toward Reign. “To be honest, I still want to fucking kill you.” He smiles, but there’s nothing but danger in his eyes. Then his lashing gaze hits mine, and I can already feel the hurt in his words before he even speaks them. “The next time he breaks your heart, I’m going to leave you in pieces for a few minutes to really feel the pain before I help you pick them up.”
I wince, glancing away from him. His words hurt. They dig deep.
I can hear him chuckle before the jingling of keys sound with the stomping of feet, and then the front door slams.
“Now, baby Lake. What were you saying?” he asks lowly, dangerously.
My heart hurts. My fucking soul cries.
“You’re an asshole,” I growl. “You’re being an asshole to them.”
He smirks. “How long will you stick up for them, Lakyn?”
“Forever,” I tell him honestly.
He smirks, though he doesn’t seem pleased in the slightest. His fingers curl around my hip bone. He grips me tightly, his fingers inching up my sweatshirt. Cool air caresses my bare stomach, and I tense, staring up into his eyes. My back lays against the hard wooden table, and I gasp, spine arching into him.
“It’s cute you stick up for them,” he rasps, his eyes glinting with danger. “But I’ve had enough, Lakyn, and it’s time you remember who it is you belong to.” He growls as he lifts me, pulling my sweatshirt over my head. I instantly shiver as I lie back on the table in only my sports bra and my thin pair of sleep shorts.
His fingers drag down my thighs, and he hooks them under my cotton shorts. With an easy tug, they slide down my legs, and I kick them off my ankles, a shyness falling over me at the thought of my friends all watching me from the other room, even though I know none of them are here.
“Can we go up to your room?” I whisper.
“No,” he grunts, pushing my thighs apart, revealing the scrap of fabric between my legs. I can feel the small spot of wetness that has seeped into the fabric. His finger brushes it, pressing against my clit.
“You look so fucking gorgeous lying here, baby Lake. The things I want to do to you,” he groans.
I whimper as his fingers graze down my slit, bringing the fabric with it. It slides between my folds, and my eyes shudder at the pleasure.
I garble out words, though none of them are comprehendible.
He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear. “Are you ready to tell me your secrets?”
My body freezes, and I tilt my eyes to his. “I’m not keeping any secrets.”
He couldn’t know, right? He couldn’t have any idea about the masked man.
If he did, he would kill me. I’m certain of it.
I can’t tell him, though. Because the thought of telling him would be suicide.
He tilts his head to the side. “You lie to me, Lakyn. It’s offensive.”
My hands go to the edge of the table, and I push myself up. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth,” I whine, hoping I’m even somewhat believable.Please don’t be obvious.
He chuckles, shaking his head, before he leans down, grabbing me around the waist and hauling me into his arms. His shoulder digs into my stomach, and I grip onto the back of his shirt as he walks me into the kitchen.
“What’re you doing?” I ask him.
“I’m going to pull the secrets out of you, baby Lake.”
I shiver, dread and fear mingling, as if I stepped into a bucket of ice water.
He stops once we get to the island, allowing me to slide down his body. I’m about to speak, when he looks at me with narrowed eyes. He grabs me by my waist, spinning me around, and his hand goes to the top of my back, bending me over the island, my bared stomach pressing against the cool granite countertop.
“Grab onto the edge, Lakyn,” he growls.
I do as he says, shivering at the anger in his tone as I hold on to the cool edge with shaky fingers.
