Page 62 of Rebel

When the song switches, we are all panting, and I tamp down the genuine desire I feel as I turn away and pour shots. “Shots,” I call.

Trav and Kolton shoot theirs. Chase watches me as he shoots his, his eyes knowing, and when he turns away to listen to Trav, I pour my shot into the nearest empty beer bottle. I need to be sober. I can’t let liquor make me numb to this.

I want it to hurt. I want to feel guilty.

The night drags on as I pour more and more drinks for them, watching them get sloppy and messy. My heart is cold the entire time.

They say you should dig two graves when you seek revenge—one for you and one for them. I’ve dug four, and I’ll throw the dirt right onto their coffins for the cameras.

Chase Reed is drunk as hell, thanks to me. Sipping my beer, I watch him dance with an equally intoxicated Kolton. My eyes track him like prey, knowing if anyone is going to spill the beans, it’s him. It was the guilt in his eyes, the panic that I saw, that made me realize I can use it against him. Mix it with booze and I have no doubt the truth will come spilling out.

One thing I didn’t expect, however, is Trav.

He’s drinking but he’s not drunk. He slumps next to me on the sofa, lifting one of my legs and throwing it over his as he sips his beer and watches them with a grin before his head hits the couch and turns to me.

His dark eyes are bright and happy, and his lips are tilted in a welcoming grin, his piercings flashing in the light. “Having fun, beautiful?”

“Hmm.” I nod, watching Chase and Kolt dance for a minute before taking a pull of my beer.

I feel it spill across my chin and lip as I glance back at Trav to see his eyes narrow.

For a moment, his eyes drop to my lips. I shiver like I feel him tracking them, and he takes that as a yes, leaning in. His thumb drags along my bottom lip before sucking the beer off his digit as he watches me. “Want to have some more fun?”

Say no.

Stay here and pump Chase for info, I tell myself, but one look at Trav’s dark eyes and I can’t.

I want him too, and I know us fucking will only tie us together and help me get what I need. Plus, when I look over at Chase, I see him slumped on the floor, completely passed out. Kolt lies across him, snoring.

My eyes jerk back to Trav as he stands, draining his beer before he tosses the bottle away. The sound of smashing glass is loud, even over the pumping music, as he offers me his hand. “Come on, Beck, let’s have our own party.”

I know exactly what he wants. It’s obvious, and I find myself placing my hand in his.

I’m a traitor, a whore for my revenge, but I can’t seem to stop.

They can have my body, my voice, and my smile, but they will never get all of me. Not before I get them. Getting to my feet, I press my body against his as his hand tightens on mine. “You think you can handle me?” I step back, keeping our hands linked as I move to the stairs, leading him after me.

“I’m sure as fuck going to try, Beck Danvers, harder than I ever have before.”

“Let’s see then.” Turning, I lead him upstairs.

Desire and sickness war within me.

I’m going to fuck the enemy, but it’s just another form of warfare.

This isn’t about pleasure or wanting someone to love me anymore. This is about being what they want, their good little whore, so I can steal their secrets.

Trav doesn’t want me, he wants Beck Danvers, and that’s who he will get.

THIRTY

Ilead Trav right to his room. I’ve never really been in it before, since they are pretty private and I didn’t want to cross that line between us, so when I push the door open, I quickly scan his room. It’s decorated in black and red with a huge black bed covered in silk sheets. He has a drum kit in the corner and posters covering a lot of the walls. There are some clothes draped over a desk chair, where there’s an open laptop on a black wooden desk. He hits a switch, and lights turn on before they dull and soften.

A red glow illuminates everything as I turn and walk backwards, holding Trav’s hand. “Beck, we don’t have to.” It’s clear he’s starting to worry he pushed me and he’s taking advantage.

I don’t need him to think; I need him to fuck me before I change my mind. Pressing against his body, I slide my hands up his chest and over his shoulders as I lean on my tiptoes and kiss him. I lick the seam of his lips until they part with a groan, and then I pull back. When his eyes flutter open, I grin and push his chest.

He hits the bed and bounces, keeping his eyes on me as I reach behind me and undo my bra, letting it drop to the floor before I step out of my thong. His dark eyes run down my body greedily as his hands fist the sheets. “Jesus, fuck, Beck, you’re enough to kill a man.”

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