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“Half an hour, my ass. Two minutes.” Probably ten.
“What I say about mentioning this ass?” His palm swats down, sparking a blaze across my flesh.
“Ouchhh!” I grit. “Now, tell me about the skulls in the fire.”
“Tell me about the fire at the track meet.”
“You first.”
He runs a thumb over my bottom lip then his hand clutches my neck. “Stop trying your luck.”
“It was a vigil,” I croak.
“Who died?” His tone is a touch morbid as his thumb leisurely peruses my exposed flesh.
“Exactly.” Anxious, I start to turn onto my back, desiring to look at the ceiling, anywhere but Camdyn. His arm snakes around my waist, crushing my breast to his chest. “Keep going, Willow.”
“You’re the bane in my . . . Ouch. I’m gonna need my left nipple one day to feed my bab . . . Ouch! I need both my nipples—okay, okay.” Although his demeanor is extremely rough around the edges, I find strength in his presence. I find myself sharing a story I’ve never told another soul.
“A few weeks after my mom’s accident—” Tiny cracks break apart my words. His hand sweeps across my face, collecting an abandoned tear. Camdyn’s mouth crashes against mine, hard, demanding, encouraging.
Oxygen flushes my lungs, and I start over. “I hadn’t attended our meets. We had a big one. One of the girls, Michelle, was always jealous of Londyn and me, my old best friend, my other half. Michelle was intimidated by my return. She had scouts lined up that day. We were the only ones in the locker room when Michelle pulled out an old school candle with Jesus painted on the side. Said we were having a vigil.”
Camdyn’s lips curl sinisterly. “You burned the bitch?”
“Ehh, I was trying to scare her.”
He climbs on top of me. I’m only conscious of his heavy dick sinking against my butterfly-filled stomach.
“Don’t lie to me, Willow. You weren’t trying to scare her.” He grinds his cock against me. “That bitch tried you.”
“Yes . . .”
Bringing his massive hand between us, Camdyn cups my pussy. His teeth grate the small patch of skin along the side of my neck.
“You’re so fecking wet, thinking about it.”
I’m thinking about you. You fucking me, Crazy Cam.
“Tell me you get off at the thought of watching fire lick,” he slithers his tongue over the pain, “her flesh until she dies. She deserves to die.”
I loop my arms around Camdyn, thrusting my sex against his hard abdominals. A sick possession overwhelms me. I groan, “Michelle acted like my mom was already dead.”
His tongue wars against mine. “Fucking cunt should die. Say it, Willow.”
With resolute eyes, I stare at him. “I can’t say that.”
Soft, compassionate lips press against my own. It’s like he’s able to flip the switch and teleport from heaven to hell. “Your mom’s a fighter, Lo. You’re a fighter. That cunt’s strategy was getting in your head. She. Should. Die.”
I try not to heed the truth. Camdyn MacKenzie is the same kind of demon as Michelle. They both want to steal a piece of me—but with different motivations.
