Page 133 of Vile Boys

“Let’s take a break,” I say as she pulls the knives from the tree.

I grab the bottle of water off the bench and chug it down while she sits to take a breather. I hold out my bottle and offer her a sip, which she gladly takes, chugging it all down until only a few droplets are left. And as she pulls the bottle away, my eyes can’t help but home in on the few droplets landing on her lips and the tongue that dips out to lap them up.

What I wouldn’t give to suck them off.

She hands back the bottle, and I immediately chug down the remaining water, but the mere thought her lips were on this bottle just seconds ago makes my hard-on twitch in my pants.

“God,” she murmurs, leaning her head back. “This training thing sure takes up a lot of energy.”

I chuckle. “If it feels easy, it won’t do anything. It’s supposed to be hard work.”

“I know.” She sighs. “I just wish it could’ve been different. That I wouldn’t have had to learn any of this, you know?”

I smile and pick another rose from the nearby bush in this maze. It’s the only place we’ve been able to train in peace and quiet during the day without people looking at us. I’ve seen her performance with and without people watching her, and she’s ten times better if no one can see how good she is.

It’s like she automatically downgrades her own skills just for the sake of appearing weak.

And I understand. This world is harsh on women and especially those who don’t conform to the norm she tries hard to be a part of.

But I see through that thin veneer of perfection, the innocent, sweet girl facade she’s made into her core being. Underneath all that hides a fighter, a fierce creature determined to protect the ones she loves … and herself.

Her parents may have called her after a crystal, but she’s like a diamond in the rough to me.

Beautiful, not in spite, butbecauseof the sharp edges.

“We’ve been at it for so long,” she mutters. “It’s already gotten dark again.”

“Good. It’s better to train at night,” I reply.

“Why?”

“Because then no one can see how you fight.” I wink.

I mean, that’s what she wants, isn’t it?

“Can I ask you a question?” she asks, catching me off guard.

“Well, you may ask, but I can’t guarantee a satisfying answer,” I reply. I roll the rose between my fingers to get rid of the thorns, but her eyes are fixated on the spinning move. I wonder what she’s thinking about—if she’s trying to decipher the thoughts in my head like I’m trying to unravel her. If she thinks about untying my clothes slowly, meticulously, wondering about every part that will appear from underneath, just like I do with her.

She swallows. “Ares helped you, right? Did his family force you to fight for them?”

“Oh no, fighting was my own choice,” I say. “Out of honor. Andspite, of course. But mostly so I could stand on my own.”

I’m curious that was the question she wanted to ask.

“What … what was it like being near him?” she asks tentatively.

I smirk. She wants to know more about me?

“Sorry if I’m being intrusive,” she mutters, waving it off. “Forget I asked. It doesn’t even matter.”

“No. I won’t forget.”

Her face flushes.

“Since you worked out so hard, I’ll reward you. But …” I raise a finger. “You must promise me you will tell me something about you too.”

She gulps but still nods, and a wicked grin spreads on my cheeks.

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