Page 54 of The Bitterness of Venom

I pause at the car door he has opened for me. “Friends don’t date.”

He leans in closer. “And we were never going to be just fucking friends. Get in.”

I’m practicallya giddy mess as we pull up to the skating rink. My smile is real, and I rush out of the car and into the empty place. There is only one worker here, and he’s a younger college guy, too focused on his phone to do much more than nod at me. I hear the door behind me open and peer over my shoulder to see Desmond walk in, a pastel pink pair of skates with a black embroideredBon them in his grip.

He can’t buy your love, I have to tell myself, but even I think I’m losing this battle. Not because of the skates. Because he’s spent every moment trying and proving to be everything I need. And coming from Desmond, that’s a lot.

“Those aren’t your colors.”

He smirks. “Cute. But I could never get my foot inside a size eight.” He pauses, leaning down by my ear. “And if I could, I’d fucking rock them.”

I snort, snatching the skates from him before sitting on a bench and placing them on my feet. The wheels have skulls on them and I think that’s fucking cute and way too simpish for him to do for me. But he’s been proving me wrong all week.

My chest lightens as I step onto the wooden rink, rolling across it and turning to see if Desmond busts his ass, but of course he doesn’t. As if he was born to roller-skate, he glides with perfect precision. Circling around me with a smirk. “I thought you’d fall.” I cross my arms, skating backward and away from him.

“I’m good at everything, baby.” He winks.

We don’t say anything more, just skate to the music as he holds my hand. It’s giving middle school vibes, but I love it. Especially when he randomly twirls me around on the rink.

Looks like I didn’t bring enough ammunition to withstand the Desmond effect.

THIRTY-SIX

It’s notin my nature to do much other than dominate and take, but I realize Blaise needs this. The cliché dates and the emotions I would usually like to suppress. I’m not emotionless, I just learned to hide them well at a young age. Opening that vault has felt like a volcano the last few weeks. Like stripping myself raw and offering her my insides. A peek at the dark depths on the inside and the cobwebs she left on my heart at the tender age of fifteen.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t as hard to give her all of me. Yeah, the constant rejection and being in the friend zonesucks, but I’m nothing if not persistent. And she deserves that time to think, to come to terms with the fact that we are the endgame.

I catch her around the waist, sitting her up on the ledge of the rink. I pull at her stupid jeans until they’re around her ankles. I can’t help myself. Even though I finally got a taste again, I’m like an addict.

I twist her panties, watching as they snap and fall into my hands. Her eyes widen and she looks over my shoulder to the guy behind the counter. “Desmond, he’s watching us.”

“Great.” I inhale her scent, running my nose through her folds. “Maybe he’ll get the picture that you’re mine.” I close my lips softly over her clit and she moans, head falling back. I lick, suck, and fuck her with my mouth, stopping when she’s about to fall over, and then I start all over again.

“Damn it, Desmond,” she cries, tears rolling down her cheeks, eyes pleading as I enter four fingers inside her tight walls. She hiccups. “Please, let me come.”

“Tell me you don’t want me.”

She squeezes her eyes closed, her body trembling. “I don’t want you.”

I remove my mouth, standing and pulling her down on unstable legs. I pull her pants up and rub my fingers over her tearstained cheeks. “Shhh, baby. I’ll let you come.” I pick her up, skating off the rink and onto the carpet so we can take our skates off. “As soon as you stop lying to yourself.”

Pissed is an understatement.Blaise’s rage at being denied is louder than any words she’s ever yelled. She stomps into the elevator ahead of me and I swear the little shit is pressing the close button, trying to keep me out. My hand slides in just before it the doors close and she throws her big-dagger eyesat me. “Our date is over. No need to walk me to the front porch,” she says sarcastically.

The elevator dings open to the penthouse and I stalk after her, bringing my phone out and placing it across from the bed. I hit the record button and make sure I’m live. I snatch her by her pink hair, grinning down at her when we come face to face. “Are you telling people you’re single?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Why are you doing that, baby?” I ask softly, but I don’t feel anywhere near gentle.

“Because I am.”

I shake my head, laughing lightly. “No. I’m afraid you’re not.” I pull on the collar of her shirt, exposing her tits. Next, I undo her pants, pushing them to her feet. “Take it all off.” I let go of her hair and snatching my phone, I sit on the bed. Pushing my pants and boxers down, I pat my thighs. “Sit, doll.”

I think she’ll refuse but she doesn’t. She sways her hips as she comes to me, sitting on my lap as I point my phone at our joined body parts. She moans, rubbing herself all over my dick. “Does this look like she’s single to you?” I ask the audience.

I point the phone at her face. “Tell them how much you don’t want me, baby. Lie to them like you lie to me.”

“I can’t.” She runs her hands over her breasts and then through her hair.

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