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* * *
I slamthe bathroom door before locking it as Gillian sits on the sink, looking positively ill.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my fists clenching.
“I’m fine but you look like you’re about to murder someone,” she assesses, like she knows me on a deeper level than anyone. In a way, Gillian and I understand each other. We both have this darkness inside us, but I’ve been surrounded by darkness my whole life. It’s not appealing in the least.
“We need to get Laura here,” I say, trying to come up with some solution.
“We can’t do that and you know it. Have you forgotten her hair is pink and people have already seen me tonight? That’s like outing our whole plan. You’ve worked so hard and we’re almost there, Xander. Are you really going to fuck it up now?” She pushes and I punch the mirror behind her, narrowly missing her face, but Gillian doesn’t flinch. Instead she gives me a reassuring touch on my arm and that’s more gentle than I’ve known her to be.
“I can’t do this to her.”
“You don’t have a choice. She’ll understand. If we don’t do this, we’re all dead anyway.”
My eyes meet hers and find an understanding there that calms the tremble that runs through my biceps. She’s right. If we refuse or run, we’re all dead. Our only chance is to do this, but in doing it, I’m going to lose the only person that’s ever really mattered to me. My mother, my brother, the girls here… no one can come close to how gone I am for the woman who looks exactly like the one in front of me.
So I stare into Gillian’s eyes, ignoring the darkness and choosing to see light. The longer I stare, the longer she touches me.
“Take a deep breath,” she instructs and I listen, her fingers brushing over the fabric covering my chest, settling over my heart. “I know this is hard, but just pretend I’m—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl and, for once, she doesn’t back talk. Her fingers run up and down my chest in a soothing pattern, but there are so many things wrong with this.
I’m not really calming down because she doesn’t smell right. Gillian smells of cigarettes, weed, and alcohol while Laura always smells like chocolate covered strawberries, the most addictive scent in the universe.
“We can practice if you want,” she offers, but that would require touching her. She may look like Laura in all the ways that matter, but my brain knows she’s not her and the warning bells won’t stop ringing.
“No. Let’s just get this over with.”
* * *
No matter theamount of disgust that pours down my spine like a warning, I push Gillian’s chest down onto the same table the other top five men still sit at and force her skirt over her hips, dragging down her lace thong, drenched with arousal.
This is the last fucking thing I want, but for some unknown reason, my dick hasn’t gotten the message. He’s rock hard and that adds to my shame, knowing the second I’m inside her, it’s all over.
Grabbing a condom from my back pocket, I rip the foil package before fishing my cock out of my pants, rolling the rubber down my length. Normally, I’m the biggest protester on condoms, but this is one solace I can give Laura. At least I’m not fucking her sister bareback. Everything else is out of my control. I might as well have a gun to my head.
Wrapping her hair around my fingers, I sink into her heat and Gillian cries out in pleasure. I’d think it’s for show, but her shudders around me can only be interpreted as satisfaction.
She fucking wants this. Based on the way she pushes back against me, she has no qualms at all with this, which makes me want to beat the shit out of her for Laura. Gillian should hate herself for this as much as I do, but I seem to be the only one struggling with an internal battle.
“Oh, god, yes,” Gillian cries out as I slam into her, pinning her hips against the table, praying this ends as quickly as possible. I pin her arms behind her back to stop her from clawing at my waist. I don’t want her hands on me. Not now. Not ever. “God, Xander!” she screams as she squeezes me and orgasms hard.
Gillian is not shy at all in front of an audience and neither am I, but this is all so fucking wrong. It shouldn’t be Gillian under me–it should be Laura–and my cock should be as far away from her as possible, but I know nothing will ever be the same again after this.
This is my price to pay for trying to keep Laura safe, but I know, if given the two options again–betraying her trust or protecting her—I’d have still started this all. I’d do anything, even burn the world to the ground, to keep her safe.
* * *
I killthe headlights and slowly pull into my parking spot, staring into the window leading into my living room, where I can see Laura reading one of the books I bought her last week. She’s blissfully ignorant of the chaos that’s about to be wrecked all over her equilibrium.
I can’t even bring myself to shut off the car and get the fuck out. No, the sooner I get out, the sooner she’ll no longer be mine.
“She’s going to hate me,” I say into the silence as I shut off the truck and I feel Gillian’s eyes on me.
“Don’t be so melodramatic.” She huffs as she shrugs out of Laura’s kutte, almost like the whole thing didn’t fucking happen.
“What the hell did you do to her or did she do it to you?” I ask, but don’t expect the shocked look on her face.
