Page 20 of Wiley A.F.

“Ezilynn, gorgeous Ezilynn. I’m trying. I really am fucking trying to be civil.” He ripped the fork from my hand, it clattered against the wall somewhere across the room after he flung it from his hand. His hand immediately cupped my throat, and I took two steps backward out of instinct. Fear quaked through my body, and I knew I had fucked up. Everyone had a line and I apparently had destroyed his. For each inch I tried to put between us, he got even closer. My shoulders pressed against the wall, and I frantically racked my brain for something to say to get me out of this situation.

“I would like to go back to my cage, please.”

A sinister smirk pulled at his lips and his eyes darkened. He leaned forward, placing his face close to mine. “Darlin’, you’ll be my sweetest death yet,” he whispered the delicious atrocity against my cheek and his hand tightened around my throat. An unintentional moan snuck out of my lips, and I hated my body for being attracted to him right now. Danger made most people cry, and if I had been in this situation as little as six months ago, I would have been bawling my eyes out like the masses. Although I never used to consider myself to be among the social standards of normal, I without question was not now. “I know how wet you are right now and if fucking kills me,” Grey said, resting his forehead on the wall beside my head.

“How the hell would you know that?” I muttered, wanting to deny him this truth, but I wasn’t able.

“Because you fucking gave me your drenched panties, Ezilynn. This whole situation is fucked up beyond anything, and it’s all Garrett’s doing,” he admitted, releasing his clenched fingers, and I sidestepped out of his reach.

My heart raced and I did not know if I wanted to puke or ask him to kill me and put me out of my agony. Hot tears of hatred poured down my cheeks and I didn’t know if the emotion was for him or my body. The walls of my pussy clenched with excitement thinking about how many times I’d fucked my hand as I followed his commands. “You were in my fucking house? How many times?” I shrieked the demand, and on its own accord, my hand swung as hard as it could. His face turned beat red instantly and each of my fingers were clear in the handprint I left when I smacked him. This man might kill me, but I didn’t care at this point, I might have crossed his line, but he had already blown mine to smithereens, only I wasn’t aware of it yet.

His tongue jetted out, as he licked his top teeth and then shook his head. “I’m not a fucking pervert, Ezilynn. Let’s get that straight. That unfortunately was your fiancé. That’s why the fuck I was in your house the one and only time. I was trying to find any shred of hope to prove my brother was fucking alive and innocent.Youwere the one who put my hand on your delectable snatch, and if you recall, I took my hand away immediately. Did I tell you to finger yourself and think of me? You’re damned right I did because I did the same fucking thing. As soon as I was alone, I fucked the shit out of my hand thinking of you. You know why?”

I didn’t answer him. I refused to let affirmation pass my lips. Admitting I wanted to know would only further verify how crazy I was.

“Do you want to fucking know why, Ezilynn?”

“Because you are not locked in a house with a fucking angel. I didn’t invite you over for milk and cookies for fucks sake. I’m a fucking criminal, who doesn’t blink twice when I take someone’s life. I get fucking high off of causing others pain. I’m demented in the head. My brain is wired wrong, but I’m at peace with it. It’s who I have been for years. No one has made me question my actions until you, and I hate you for it. I hate that you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, and you make me fucking crazy. I had the green flag to kill you just for being with my brother, but all it took was one look into your ridiculously breathtaking fucking honey eyes, and I knew it didn’t matter how guilty you were, I would never do anything to hurt you. So, yes, I did tell you I would never hurt you, and I meant it. Damn it! Despite how much me wanting you puts us both in danger, I can’t get you off my fucking mind and I don’t even know your last name. So that’s why.” His fist pounded against the wall and his sides heaved in and out as if his proclamation stole the air from his lungs which I understood because my breathing was uneven right along with his. His eyes closed and he bent his head backward, pulling in a deep breath through his nose and blowing it out his mouth.

Once his breaths moderately evened out, his eyes reopened. “Please fucking say something,” he whispered in a deep voice. “Say you fucking hate me too and you can’t stand the sight of me. Tell me to let you go, and I will set you free. Say anything.”

“Even though I know I should hate you, I don’t.” I hesitated, biting my lip and took a step closer to him, testing the waters by lightly laying my hand on his shoulder. He gasped. Every aspect of this was wrong, but my body wanting his came as naturally as the beat of my heart. “I think in the bottom of my soul, and I mean somewhere down deep in the forbidden depths of my mind, I knew you weren’t Malcom. I noticed you didn’t have his blue dot but lied to myself because I was turned on as soon as I saw you standing in the middle of the living room as if I caught your hands in the cookie jar.” A small nervous giggle popped out of my mouth. “I lied to myself because I wanted to be your dirty little princess, and when I touched myself, it wasn’t my fiancé I saw when I closed my eyes, it was you. And so, help me if it condemns me to hell, but I knew in my heart you weren’t him. I didn’t say anything because what are the chances your fiancé has a brother he claimed died in a housefire only to find out he was the one who was supposed to be dead.”

“Please don’t touch me right now, Ezilynn.”

“I’m sorry. I thought that…” My voice trailed off, and I yanked my hand from his skin.

“You thought wrong,” he barked, with a shake of his head. “I’m going to take a fucking shower.”

15

WILEY

That fucking woman was out of her damned mind, but, to be fair, so was I. If I stood one minute longer in the in the same room with her, I would have slammed her against the wall and shoved my dick in her. I didn’t think that was good for anyone, so I walked away from her again to save both of us from the pain.

My arm was bent over my back, and I leaned my forehead against the shower wall, letting the beads of water roll down my skin. Maybe this would help release some of the tension in my body. Who the hell knew the answer to the questions I had when it came to her? In light of her not knowing little to no truth about Garrett, I was ninety-nine percent sure she had no idea what he was up to. I hate my monster of a brother more, knowing he had done the things he had, and then had the privilege of coming home to her. If she were mine, I would worship her body every chance I got.

As sick as it made me, I wanted her more now that he was dead. Maybe that didn’t make me demented at all, but perhaps took me a step closer to normalcy. Even if she had said what she said to appease me, I didn’t give a fuck. Hearing her admit she got herself off with me on her mind made my dick fuckin hard as steel. My eyes roamed down my body to my shaft still standing at attention, waiting for her. I had to do something or there was no telling what would happen when I left the confides of this bathroom.

I grabbed my body wash, squeezing some into my hand and lathered up my shaft, moving my cupped hand up and down my length painstakingly slow at first. My mouth seethed her name and my eyes closed, enjoying the instant gratification. My pace picked up, and images of her what I thought her tight pussy looked like as she opened her thighs for me filled my mind. The door squeaked as she entered, and my hand still momentarily as my eyes darted through the glass and to hers filled with shock and maybe even lust. I wasn’t getting ahead of myself, and I told myself I didn’t see that last part. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as I continued stroking my cock, waiting for her reaction. I didn’t walk in on her; she came to me. She had the choice to not only leave this bathroom but this place entirely whether she realized it or not. As soon as it was clear she wasn’t wound tightly into my brother’s wickedness, I decided to let her do as she pleased.

“What are you doing, Ezilynn? Enjoying the show?” I asked, gripping my base and my tip pulsated. She looked down at the floor and then back to me, shaking her head.

“Then why are you in here? You’re free to leave. We owe nothing to each other now.”

Her eyes never leaving mine, her fingers dipped underneath her black yoga pants, and she moaned almost immediately.

“Fuck,” I groaned, watching her fingers move faster underneath the fabric and I matched her swiftness on myself.

“I’ve never been the kind to stand around and watch, Wiley.” The way her voice clung to my road name as she spoke it for the first time put me on the brink, but I denied myself. If I had to completely stop, I would. Unlike her, I had no fucking problem watching her fuck her hand.

She pulled her hand from her pants, and her fingers fisted her shirt, lifting it over her face. Her pants were the next to go. She stood there in a matching red lace set, and fuck me, if red wasn’t my new favorite color. If this was her way of getting even with me, I would let her use me to seek her revenge for as long as she needed.

“What are you doing, Ezilynn?” I asked her for the second time when her hand opened the shower door and she stepped inside.

“You said my fucking name, Grey. No, you didn’t say it, you growled it, so I came to see what you were doing, and this is what I found.” Her smooth fingers wrapped around my hand, and she used my hand to stroke. “How the fuck are you going to walk away from me and come in here to do exactly what I thought was going to happen out there?”

“I said I will never hurt you, and I fucking meant it.” I panted through the pleasure she was giving me. “Even if that means denying myself what I want.”

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