I rattle the doorknob, but it doesn’t open.
“Fuck!”
I slam my hand on the door, pounding on it.
“Langston!”
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
“Open the door! We need to talk!”
I press my ear up against the door, but I don’t hear anything. If Langston is in his bed, he would have heard me. He’s either ignoring me or not here.
He’s never here for me when I need him.
My nails dig into the back of the door and then scrape down. I hope I’m destroying the perfect finish on this pretty door, but I doubt I am.
I collapse to my knees as I cry out, begging my body to surrender, to give in.
Cry, dammit.
Shed one fucking tear.
Make this easier.
I feel under my eyes, but all I sense is the sticky sweat clinging to my cheeks.
I’m broken.
As much as I don’t want to admit it, I need Langston.
“Liesel?”
Langston’s voice.
I exhale sharply.
“Yes,” I croak back.
“What’s wrong?”
Do it. Say it and get it over with.
“I need you.”
There’s a pause.
He’s not going to answer. He’s not going to talk to me. He’s not going to help me.
The door opens.
No light shines in—the room remains dark as he steps inside the closet and then shuts the door behind him.
“I never got my reward for telling you the truth,” I say.
I hear him swallow, but he still doesn’t speak.
I stand up and shimmy my jean shorts down until they are a heap on the floor. He must have heard the flop my jeans made, but he doesn’t react. At least, he doesn’t react in a way I can see.
I reach up and untie my swimsuit top and let it fall to the floor. Lastly, I shove my bikini bottoms to the floor.
“I need a release, Langton. Fuck me. Make me come. I need it if you want me to survive long enough to spill my secrets.”
He doesn’t move.
I hate how desperate I am. I hate that I’ll be cheating on Waylon, but I literally won’t make it without this.
“I’m sorry, Waylon. Please forgive me.”
I grab for Langston.
He doesn’t move as I grip onto his bare chest. He sleeps shirtless, does he sleep naked?
My claws dig into his chest, sliding down his muscles until I find out.
He’s wearing boxer briefs.
So sexy.
I can’t see him, but I imagine him in my head.
No.
I don’t need to imagine Langston. I just need his body.
“Sit down,” I say, pushing his shoulders down.
I’m not sure if he will obey me. I’m not sure if he will take control and rape me.
As long as I’m in control of this, then it’s my decision. Unfortunately, Langston has never been very good at letting me have control.
Surprisingly, he sits on the floor.
“Don’t kiss me,” I say, as I climb on top of him.
I find his cock hard as stone, lift it out of his shorts and let it push at my entrance.
I’m frustrated, worked up and horny as hell. I’m not sure if I’m wet, if I’m ready for him, but I’m too impatient to wait.
I slide down hard on top of his cock, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he tears through me. I wasn’t wet enough, but I don’t care.
I feel the pain.
I feel—that’s enough.
“Now, I’m going to fuck you until you make me come.”
I slide up and down his cock—hard and furiously fast.
I don’t feel myself getting wetter, just hotter.
I thought fucking Langston would be explosive. I thought he’d know how to work my body, make me come in seconds.
He does, but I’m not letting him have control. That’s why I’m not coming yet.
If I gave up control to him, then he’d have me panting and screaming his name in minutes.
I’m not going to give Langston control yet. That’s one step too far. I need to come, but I need to control myself.
“Fuck,” I moan as I ride him harder, rubbing my clit up against the deep V of his sculpted abs.
Faster.
Faster.
Faster.
Maybe if I kiss him? Just once?
Nope. That’s too far.
I won’t betray Waylon like that.
This isn’t about cheating. It’s about taking what I need to survive.
I rub myself against him, creating more friction.
I’m so hot, soaked in sweat, this is the moment…
“Liesel?” Langston’s voice is so soft, full of pain and sadness. He knows I can’t come. This won’t work.
“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!” I pump over him, begging my body to give in.
I try one more time, but it doesn’t happen.
I don’t come.
It was all for nothing.
I shove him hard, and I climb off him.
I scream.
I pound my fists into the walls and consider pounding them into his head.
Before I can decide what to punch next, I collapse from exhaustion.
24
Langston
What the hell happened last night?
I yawn.
I’m going to need an IV of coffee to keep me going today. I didn’t sleep more than five minutes all last night, not after what Liesel did.
How do I deal with her?
What the hell do I do?
Coffee. Coffee first, then I deal with Liesel.
I get dressed, flip the lock of the closet door, and race down the stairs. I know she didn’t sleep a second last night, either. She’ll be chasing me down the stairs, wanting answers.
I’m on a mission.
Coffee.
Liesel won’t get in my way.
The damn grinder won’t get in my way.
Not today.
I march down the stairs and over to the kitchen.
“Morning, boss,” Amelia says with an annoying smile as she holds out a cup of coffee for me.
“Thanks,” I grumble, grabbing the cup of coffee from her hands.
She smirks. “I figured you’d be up early again and need this.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” I guzzle down the first cup and then help myself to a second.
“Didn’t get much sleep last night?” She blushes, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulder. Amelia is a fantastic cook, but she’s equally as capable equipped with a gun in her hand as she is a chef’s knife.
“Don’t ask.”
I carry my cup of coffee outside onto the patio just as Liesel comes downstairs in her jean shorts and red bikini top again.
Jesus.
She’s going to kill me.
And she’s going to succeed long before I can kill her.
Less than a minute later, Liesel is opening the glass door and walking toward me carrying her own cup of coffee.
I frown.
I need to tell Amelia that the first pot of coffee in the morning is mine and to not share it with Liesel.
Liesel, unlike me, looks ready to go. Her blonde hair hangs in waves over her right shoulder. Her face looks bright with just a hint of freckles over her nose instead of the painted face I’m used to seeing on her. She looks young and carefree in her red bikini top that I want to rip from her body.