Page 10 of Riot

“Wait, are you going?” he asks, his voice hoarse and thick with heavy breathing.

I can feel my cream sliding down my thighs, and when I glance back, his eyes are locked on my ass as he sits up in bed, trying to recover. “No, I’m getting a drink to give you time to recover for the next round.”

“Fuck, you might actually kill me.” He slumps back into the bed as I pour myself straight vodka and shoot it back as I turn to him.

“But what a way to go, right?”

The grin he gives me is dirty and delicious, and after another drink, I walk back over to the bed, ready to lose myself in him again and the pleasure I can find in his body.

At least I don’t think of anything else in the meantime.

By the time I make it home, it’s early morning. I leave my car in the driveway, knowing it will be put away, but the usual early morning peace is disrupted by a cascade of voices. Frowning, I glance next door to the usually very quiet old couple’s house and see moving vans as well as a whole bunch of people carrying boxes inside.

Did they move?

Shit, they were the perfect neighbors, quiet and unobtrusive and too stuck up to want to speak.

I hope the new ones are just as nice. Shaking my head, I walk inside to crash into a dreamless sleep, thanks to alcohol and sex.

FIVE

The kitchen isn’t exactly my style, but it can be redone. In the meantime, I sit at the oak dining table meant for at least twelve people and scroll on the tablet before me. My coffee is cooling in my left hand, and there’s a spread big enough for an army across the table since my new chef seems to want to overfeed me. That’s fine by me. He’ll be cooking for two soon enough anyway.

My eyes catch on a familiar face in the news, and I frown at the fact my alert didn’t go off. Navigating to the story, I skim it, glancing at the pictures to see her.

Fallon looks so beautiful, wearing a short red dress and dripping in diamonds. There are multiple selfies of her and her friends at a party. I don’t know any of their names, but they must be singers or models. My eyes are only for her, but don’t they see it? She stands out in every single picture. No one can even compare. There’s one farther down of her heading to her car with a guy in tow, and I smirk as I sip my coffee.

He doesn’t matter, none of them do, and they never last. She has a different one each time she’s spotted, as if she’s making a statement. It doesn’t matter because they’ll never fully have her or know her. No one will except me.

Fallon needs someone to consume her so she can’t ice them out, and that’s exactly who I am.

I will never give up on her. She can have her one-night stands because I’m the forever kind. I’m here now, and I’m never letting her go.

I gave her time and space to heal from her messy divorce.

I built my name and my brand to be her equal, and now it’s time she knows it. It’s time she remembers that promise I made.

Putting the tablet down, I drain my coffee as I stand without sparing a look at my frazzled manager, Elijah, who’s working hard farther down the table.

Shrugging into my leather jacket, I glance down at the outfit I carefully picked out—loose black jeans with a chain belt, a white shirt, and my jacket. My black hair is styled perfectly, and I look chic and the completely opposite of her sleek, old-money style and the pretty boys she picks.

I won’t be another man to her. I’ll be the only man.

I dress like a rock star, and I intend to fuck her like one—dirty, hard, and never-ending.

“Where are you going?” Elijah asks without lifting his eyes from the screen.

“I think it’s time to introduce myself to my new neighbor, don’t you?” I wink as he turns a confused gaze onto me. “You’re always telling me to be friendly.”

“Yes, but you never are,” he retorts. “That’s what’s freaking me out. No offense, Kage, but you only care about one person in this world, you?—”

“Yes, and she’s next door,” I finish for him. “Be a good boy and eat the food. You look tired.” I head out, ignoring him as he calls after me.

No one will stand in my way, not my manager and certainly not Fallon. I’ve been waiting for this day for a year. Three hundred and sixty-five days since I have seen her with my own eyes, smelled her, and touched her. It’s been far too long. I don’t plan to be apart after today.

Ignoring the workmen who are busy changing the house to my specifications, I head outside and straight to the left to the wall. It will be torn down eventually, but until then, I grasp the top and haul myself over, landing on her property.

Whistling to myself, flower in hand, I head to her front door. My eyes land on the impressive car collection parked to the right. My girl is a collector of fine things, and I’ll be one of them soon enough.

---