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"Sure?" I narrow my gaze on him.
"I think you’ve had enough, as well," he murmurs.
I scoff, then pour the rest of the whiskey into my glass.
"How long have you been drinking?" He scowls.
"Since this morning." I hear my voice slur and shake my head to clear it.
"Fucking hell, King, and you call yourself an athlete?" Declan scolds.
"Yep. I’m a world-class athlete...at lifting my glass to my mouth." I slap the bottle on the table, then toss back the whiskey. The alcohol burns its way down my throat and hits my gut. A slow warmth infuses my limbs.
I made her give me a blow job. I enjoyed it, too. Then, I pretended otherwise to her. In fact, I implied to her that as far as giving blowjobs goes, her skills are below par.When did I sink this low?I reach for the glass in front of me, refill it, then chug down the contents. The liquor burns its way down my throat. It hits my stomach, setting off a warmth that travels to my extremities. Almost as hot as it felt to have her lips wrapped about my cock… To have her sucking on my shaft, curling her tongue around the sensitive crown, her fingers caressing my balls, her breath coming in pants as she sucked me off. Her chest rose and fell, and I felt my dick slide down her throat.
The blood drains to my groin. I curl my fingers about my glass.How is it that thinking about her seems to arouse me so quickly?
She looked up at me through the curtain of her lashes and her big green eyes betrayed just how turned on she was. I’d wanted to punish her, but instead, felt satisfied that I pleasured her. Maybe too much.
It’s why I was cruel to her later. I wanted to hurt her. Make her feel a fraction of what I went through—the betrayal, the helplessness, the absolute powerlessness when I was expelled from school. When I lost my sports scholarship, and my parents were disappointed in me. When I felt like my life was over. Only it wasn’t.
Knight saved me. He was there for me. And I’m rewarding him by being a complete arse to his sister.
I reach for the bottle again, but Declan moves it out of the way. "Want to tell me what’s wrong?"
I scoff. "You mean, do I want to share my thoughts with you and all that emo shit?"
Declan tilts his head. "Sharing what’s on your mind hardly equates with losing your masculinity. Sometimes it helps to talk things out. Clarity and perspective and all that, ol’ chap."
"I’ll remind you of this when you fall for someone and—"
His eyebrows shoot up. "And—?"
"And nothing."
"So, you’ve fallen for her?"
"Not what I said."
He smirks. "I distinctly heard you say—"
"Fine, I did." I hold up my hand. "But it was a slip of the tongue."
He stares at me. "Since when did the sportsman of the decade slip on anything?"
Since I decided to go after a certain slip of a girl for revenge and found it disturbs me more than it should.And I don’t understand why. She deserves every horrible thing I have lined up for her. She deserves the distress I want to cause her. So why is it that I feel remorseful about it? I’ve planned this for so long, and now, when I have the chance to take revenge for what she did to me, I’m, evidently, getting cold feet. And all because I’m attracted to her.
"I’m attracted to her." I firm my lips. "Doesn’t mean I’m falling for her."
He rubs his jaw. "I don’t know, man. It certainly seems like you’re developing feelings for her."
I blink, then bark out a laugh. "Don’t confuse my love life with yours. I’m not the one who fell head-over-heels in love, only to find it’s not all it’s cracked up to be."
"At least, I have the balls to accept my emotions and not shy away from admitting that being in a relationship is not as easy as it seems. At least, I have the stomach to face my emotions, instead of running from them."
"Are you calling me a coward?"
"And if I were?"
