How do I know this?
Because I’ve been counting down the days for it, too. Our attraction for one another has always been a silent, stealthy craving we knew better than to indulge in. One false step and we’d succumb to it, letting the ravenous feeling take over our rationality and self-preservation. Hating on Scarlett has always been one of my favorite things to do, and for a good reason. Admitting to anything else is a danger that neither one of us wants to fall prey to. Still, the temptation is there, bubbling on the surface, greedy for attention. And right now, lying on her bed as she sits just inches away from me, it’s a snare I’m struggling not to be trapped by.
“You’re not going to go, are you?”
“Eventually. Just not now.”
She mauls her lower lip nervously as I cradle my head with one arm behind it, waiting for her next move.
“We were doing just fine. Why do this now?”
There is a slump to her shoulders that gives me pause, especially because I hear her true meaning behind her question. We have gone years without tipping over into the danger zone of our dynamics. Messing with it is bound to have repercussions that neither of us is ready for. Unfortunately, the people who forced my hand in regards to Scar are the very ones I wish she had no knowledge of. But my gut tells me that Scarlett might know more about The Society than I do at this point. I have to bide my time before even hinting about our blackmailers with her. With a bit of luck and plenty of patience, maybe Scarlett will tell me her involvement all on her own, without having to show her my hand.
“I already told you,” I answer after a while.
“The only thing you told me was that we’re fucked.”
Jesus.
Hearing Scar curse, immediately stirs my cock awake, hitting the zipper painfully in my black jeans. I stifle the groan that wants to come out and keep rigidly still instead of cupping my dick as it demands.
“Everyone is fucked up, Scar. You just have to figure out what kind of fucked up you’re into,” I play off with a Cheshire Cat grin.
“Enough of your witty comebacks, East. Just tell me why you’re here.”
“Isn’t it obvious? To see you.”
“You already saw me tonight.” She nails me with her haughty look.
“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” I taunt, running a finger over her leg.
Her cheeks flush, and her jaw slacks just a fraction, enough to breathe in the air needed to keep her wits about her. The way her body responds to me shows me she isn’t as innocent as she pretends to be. Especially after the show she put on tonight, I know my little church mouse has been keeping secrets from me.
“So, who was it?” I ask with a voice as sweet as velvet, even though there is a knot forming in my throat.
“Who was what?” She bats her big, beautiful, brown eyes under her glasses.
My eyes trail over her body, into the gap of her thighs, my hand following their direction until my thumb nudges her most sacred of spaces.
“Just curious as to who got here first.”
Her features turn a myriad of emotions—shyness mixed with excitement under a disgusted and appalled mask. She slaps my hand away, her gaze razor-sharp.
“That is none of your business.”
I use the same thumb to run over my lower lip, mirth in my stare.
“It was that geeky kid senior year, back in high school, wasn’t it? The one who moved to Boston for college. I saw how he was always trailing behind you like some lost puppy. I’m kind of disappointed you gave it away to someone who probably didn’t know the first thing about making a woman cum.”
Her eyes go wide for a split second, but just as quickly, they slant their way at me.
“Was he the only one? Or did you let one of those rich bastards at The Brass Guild taste your pussy, too? One of your dancers, perhaps? Have they heard your cries as you cum, Scar?”
She fists her delicate hands at her side, hinting that if I don’t shut up soon, I won’t leave this house without being bitch-slapped first.
“It’s none of your business who I let into my body.”
The way she phrases that statement is with the sole intent of getting a rise out of me. And fuck it, it does. A feverish, jealous rage wraps itself around me like unyielding ivy, throttling me with blind fury. In one quick move, I lean up from her bed and grip her chin so harshly that I have to force myself to lighten up.
“Listen carefully. That pussy of yours is no longer on the market. No one touches it or even gets close to it without my say so. Do you fucking understand me?”
She scoffs, and I pull her chin closer to me until our faces are an inch apart from each other.
“The only one who will have you is me. Until I’m done with you, anyway.” I add the last spiteful remark just to hurt her pride since mine has taken a fucking nose dive into the pit of my unending jealousy.
“You think very highly of yourself, don’t you, East? Careful. One day someone might kick you off that pedestal.”
The only one of us on a pedestal is you, and I’m the idiot who put you there.
“Are you done with your childish demands?” she rebukes, unaffected by my threats. “If so, then leave. I’m done with you.”
“Funny you should say that, Scar, because I’m not done with you.” I grab the nape of her neck to press a hard kiss on her temple, leaving her wide-eyed under her dark frames. I jump off the bed and put some distance between us before I do or say something I can’t take back. But the asshole in me that always needs to have the last word can’t help himself, throwing one more promise her way.
“We’ve just begun to play, you and I. Keep those claws of yours sharpened, Scar. I promise, one day, they are going to leave their mark all over my back.”
She turns her head away from me rather than fueling the deep desire I have for her to fight me. It’s twisted and insane, but I honestly don’t know what version of Scarlett gives me more pleasure—the one that hides from me, knowing she can’t outrun me; or the one that builds up her courage to face me head-on, with a sharp tongue ready to slice me open and feed that hungry need in me.
All I know is that every facet of Scar lures me in, and the more time I’m forced to be in her orbit, the more I feel myself slipping, diving head-first into something we have tried all our lives to stay clear from.
Last time I was here, I told her we were inevitable.
We both should have read the warning in my words.
Chapter 12
Scarlett
After breaking into my house twice last weekend, Easton was clever enough to give me my space throughout the week. He didn’t come to Sunday service, and he didn’t sit next to me in any of our joint classes. But I could still feel his constant, lingering gaze.
The intensity of it holds something new, though. It’s different somehow.
Urgent.
Vulnerable even.
It preys on my weakness for him, appealing to that dark part inside of me that recognizes his somber soul. With a sharp-edged chisel, he’s been carving away at my resistance these past few weeks, and I don’t know what sprung this new urgency in him. One thing is for sure—something must have happened to the dark prince that triggered his impatience when it comes to dealing with me. For years we were fine, playing this little hide-and-seek game of ours, but his predatory instincts are on overdrive now. As much as I’ve tried to deny it, I’ve always enjoyed being Easton’s favorite prey.