Page 1 of The Way You Hurt Me

PROLOGUE

WILLOW

Eve of Morgan and Camden’s wedding

I watch with rapture, too fascinated to even think about moving. Besides, if I make a sound, they'll see me, and wouldn'tthatbe awkward.

My sister is getting fucked. I realize that peeping on your sibling is creepy, but I can't help it. I watch every moment.

Her future husband's driving into her from underneath, while none other than Dimitri Volkov—voted hottest man alive last year—screws her from the back.

I'm not a complete psycho. I didn't seek them out behind closed doors. I just came downstairs for a snack. They're going at it in the freaking lounge. Who does that?

People who aren't ashamed of what they're doing, that's who.

I bite my lip, feeling my insides tingle. Holy fuck, it's so, so hot.

I'm not innocent. I watch tons of porn. This is a lot hotter than anything I've ever seen, anything I could have imagined.

My sister deserves all the luck in the world, given the shitty cards we were dealt with growing up. She's my hero, always taking care of me. I've never been jealous of her, despite her rich, gorgeous, caring fiancé, and everything good that has happened to her in the last couple of years. No one deserves it more.

I'm jealous now.

I should leave. But if I take a step away from the alcove where I'm standing, they could hear me. I opt to remain in my vantage spot until they're done. I'm partially concealed by the bar and the bookshelves around me here.

I flush as Morgan screams her release, and the men grunt before collapsing over her.

Then they laugh, their camaraderie obvious.

Yeah, I'm green with envy.

I wonder what their relationship is like. Are they a throuple? That doesn't seem likely. Dimitri lives in New York City, and they, in Thorn Falls, on the opposite coast. Maybe they just share from time to time. I'll likely never know. It's not like I can ask her.Talk about mortifying.

"Go get your beauty sleep, kids," Dimitri tells them, straightening up. He only lowered his pants, so getting dressed doesn't take him long. "Long day tomorrow."

"Don't lose the rings," Camden warns, and they saunter away toward their room, taking the exit nearer to them, and never coming close to the bar.

I manage a low sigh of relief.

"You can come out now, petal."

I freeze.

Petal.

That's what Dimitri’s called me the day we were introduced two years ago. I like it. I like it a lot. It makes me feel attractive and delicate and grown-up, because the most beautiful man alive has a pretty nickname for me. Stupid, I know. He wouldn't look at me twice.He likely calls me that because he can’t remember my actual name.

"Watched your fill?" he asks me, closing the distance between us.

When he reaches the bar, he pours himself a drink into a crystal glass. Something brown, but I don’t recognize the label on the bottle.

"Don't tell Morgan," I beg.

He snorts over the drink, spilling some of it out.

"Yeah, right. Like I want that conversation with yoursister. Way to get myself cockblocked."

I breathe out at his reassurance. "I just came down for something to eat. Then I was there, and?—"

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