Page 11 of Slaughter

“What do you want?” I ask through gritted teeth.

He says nothing; instead, he presses his hips into mine, and my breath catches when I feel his hardness. He wants to fuck!

“No,” I say, placing my hands on his hard chest over his black button-down and pushing him back. He doesn’t budge.

Instead, he laughs as though I’m joking.

“Avery,” I growl.

“Where’s your brother?”

I didn’t expect him to ask me that. But then again, when I woke up this morning, I didn’t expect to be drunk and locked in a bathroom with my former lover. “How the hell would I know?” I snap.

He removes my hands from his chest and pins them above my head to the door. And just like before, my body betrays me as my knees threaten to buckle, and my lips part as I take in a shaky breath. “Avery …” I whisper. “Don’t …”

“Don’t what, Bunny?” he asks. As he grins down at me, that million-dollar smile looks more threatening than friendly. “Don’t make you want me?”

“I don’t want you!” My voice is breathless while my pussy reminds me just how much I’ve missed him. It’s getting harder to breathe.

His eyes drop down to my cleavage as my breasts bounce from my heavy panting. He laughs again. “You always were a terrible liar. Your pussy is wet, and your knees are shaking.” My hands fight for him to release me, but he doesn’t. His free hand comes up and wraps around my neck loose enough to still allow me to breathe. He tilts it upward, leaning his face toward mine. His eyes drop to my lips. My heart beats wildly in my chest, knowing he’s going to kiss me. Eleven years I’ve dreamed about him. Wanted him. And here he is. It’s like a nightmare come to life.

I lick my lips and push forward, but his hand pushes me back, pinning me to the door. Instead of his lips touching mine, he moves them to my ear. “Tell Preston I know what he did. And I’m looking for him.” Then he pulls away, letting go of my arms and neck.

I grind my teeth in frustration. He’s playing with my emotions.

He looks at me with indifference as if I’m some stranger he is passing on the street. Not like the girl he once planned to marry. And I hate how much that hurts. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Bunny,” he says before opening the door, shoving me forward and walking out.

I run over to the sink and almost fall into the counter. I turn on the cold water and splash my face, not caring that my makeup will run. I grab some paper towels out of the dispenser and then push my back up against the wall. I slide down to my ass and pull my knees to my chest as memories flood me like a fucking hurricane.

We’re lying on his bed on a rainy Sunday night. Remember the Titans plays on his TV.

I sneak a glance over at him to find he’s already staring at me. “What?” I ask.

He reaches out his right hand, pushing my blond hair behind my ear. “Just admiring how beautiful you are.”

I blush and bite my bottom lip. Every time he says that to me, it makes me nervous. His eyes stay on mine, and I look back at the movie, wanting to avoid his stare. But it shuts off, enveloping us in darkness.

“Hey,” I whine.

“You’ve seen it before.” He laughs softly, and then I hear the remote hit the floor. Shifting on the bed, he pulls me to him. His hand slides up the back of my shirt, and I hiss in a breath at his touch. Lightning strikes, lighting up the room, and gives me a glimpse of his blue eyes. They’re staring at me with a need I can’t explain. My body heat starts to rise, and my heart pounds.

“Avery,” I whisper. We haven’t had sex yet, but I want to. I want him to want me the same way I want him.

“Yes, Bunny?” His voice is rough, and I lean my head back when I feel his lips gently touch my neck. “What do you want?” he asks.

I moan. “For you to want me,” I say honestly.

“I do.” His lips trail across my skin.

“Then show me.”

“You’re not ready.” He denies me once again.

I feel a pain in my chest at his rejection. A part of me thinks he’ll never want me that way. His father teaches him and his brothers to treat women like nothing. But I want to be his everything.

“Do you love me, Bunny?”

My breath catches at his question. Of course, I do. This boy means everything to me. I’d be lost without him. But I’ve never told him that because I’m afraid he doesn’t feel the same. The dark room gives me the courage to say what I’ve wanted to say for years. “Yes,” I whisper so low that I hope he didn’t hear me.

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