Page 44 of Veiled

He kisses me back, neither of us making any other move. Just a punishing kiss before I release him, and he kicks off his shoes before pushing his pants and underwear off. He moves to the bed, and I grab a condom and lube, watching as he climbs onto the bed, putting his ass on display for me.

I hate him.

I want to fucking hate him.

I want to punish him for leaving me. I put the condom on, lubing it up first and then moving a finger to his hole. I want to just shove into him, but I can’t cause him pain. I prepare him quickly but efficiently before I wipe my hand on the bedding, and then I move into position behind him.

“Fuck me,” he grunts, pushing back.

My fingers thread through his hair, and I grab on roughly. He doesn’t complain, just tries again to thrust back against me, but I don’t let him have the control. I wait until he’s whimpering, and then I slide into him in one smooth quick motion that makes us both gasp.

I don’t stop though. I fuck into him over and over, my hold on his hair tight, but he’s not in pain. He’s moaning and thrusting back onto my cock, fucking himself on it as I push into him over and over, my orgasm already threatening me.

It’s coming too fast. Too soon, but when his ass clenches around me and he cries out, I know it’s over. He’s come untouched, and I can’t even take the moment to be in awe over that fact. I can’t relish in it because I come so damn hard, it nearly hurts, and then my heart just takes over.

It’s like it’s cracked in half because I know I made a mistake. That I shouldn’t have taken him again. I shouldn’t have kissed him again. All the pain from the night he left creeps back up and chokes me.

I pull out of him and stumble away from the bed in a daze. “You need to go,” I barely manage. “Now.”

Waylon slowly climbs off the bed, and I watch numbly as he dresses. He doesn’t look at me, and I’m glad. When he’s fully dressed, he leaves with the cold loud click of the hotel room door.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and try like hell not to let the emptiness creep in.

But it does.

I’m so very empty.

Chapter Twenty-Two

WAYLON

“So let me get this straight...” I want to stop her, but Jenny just keeps going, undeterred. “Fucking him, without talking at all, and then not saying anything afterward until he kicks you out isn’t a good plan?”

“Fuck off,” I say with no venom, laying my head down on her marble countertop I’m currently leaning on and try to resist bashing my head into it.

“What were you thinking?”

I lift my head, and I don’t actually see any judgment there or amusement. She’s looking at me like I’m a kicked puppy, which is kind of how I feel after getting back to Kansas City this morning. After catching a flight out of LA.

“I wanted to see him.”

“Right,” she says, leaning against the counter on the other side, facing me. “But don’t you think you should have tried words instead of moaning and grunting your hello?”

I don’t tell her to fuck off again—at least not with words—but I’m pretty sure my face says it. She just grins at me, and I roll my eyes with a heavy, deep sigh. “I was going to talk to him, but he kissed me.”

“Made you stupid, huh? I’ve heard about kisses like that.” She stands up and walks over to the fridge, looking at it before huffing and closing the door. “So what are you going to do?”

“Nothing,” I say absently, climbing onto the bar stool at the counter. “He hates me. He wanted me to go. So I left.”

“You’re being an idiot,” she says, walking back over to stand in front of me, crossing her arms.

“Drop it,” I try, but it’s Jenny, and she doesn’t.

“No,” she says effortlessly. “You love him.”

“We don’t have time for love,” I throw back at her because if anyone understands, it’s her. “I thought you wanted me to end this anyway. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

She frowns deeply at that, a slight wrinkle between her brows. “That was before I saw you. You have it bad, my friend.” She drops her folded arms. “I didn’t know it until I saw you, but you’re really in love with him. Like actual love.”

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