Page 28 of Pray for the Damned

My orgasm is overwhelming as it rolls through every fiber of my being, tearing me apart just to put me back together again. A strangled cry escapes my throat, but I’m too lost in the pleasure to feel embarrassed by the sound.

Emmett turns my face and slams his lips down on mine, swallowing my moans as I ride every last wave of my orgasm. The mixture of his scent and the light buzz of the alcohol seems to extend my pleasure, not that I mind. Not one single bit.

If anything, I don’t want this moment to end because it can’t happen again. Not when Emmett feels this good. I can’t risk getting close to someone, not in the real way that I can see myself falling for the man beside me.

Because that’s what you do with a man like him. You fall hard and fast and hope he doesn’t break you in the process.

But that’s not the kind of risk I can afford to take.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

KADE

Watching her fall apart from a distance is its own brand of torture.

And that’s coming from someone who has actually been tortured on multiple occasions.

I’d take that every day of the week over watching Waverly get herself off from afar while she watches Sienna and Micah onstage.

I’ll admit, the scene they’ve just played out was hot as fuck, but I could barely drag my eyes off my girl for long enough to watch them. She was mesmerizing. Every bite of her lip, every tremor through her body, every time my brother whispered something against her ear, it was more than I ever could have hoped to witness.

You’d think after following her for years and having at least one camera in her apartment at any time that I would have caught her masturbating before now, but she either doesn’t do it, or she does it in the shower, because that’s the only room I’ve never had a camera in.

As she comes down from her release, her eyes shift from relaxed and satisfied to anxious and afraid. The change is so sudden, but it’s not the first time I’ve seen one like it flicker through her pretty green gaze.

Emmett seems to notice immediately, but she climbs over him so quickly that the poor motherfucker can’t get a hold of her before she flees toward the bathroom on the opposite side of the stage from where I’m standing.

My twin watches every step she takes before she disappears, looking torn between following her and giving her the space she clearly wants.

Too bad for Waverly that I’m not a good man like my brother is.

I’ll never give her space to run.

Never give her room to slip through my fingers.

Never allow her to put herself in a situation where she could be hurt.

Emmett sighs and rubs his hand over his face, giving me the chance to slip from the shadows and stalk after the dark-haired goddess that has us both tied up in knots.

If you had told me all those years ago when I watched him help her over the back fence of her father’s home that we would both be here, stalking her in our own ways, I wouldn’t have believed you for a second. But the intrigue I had in the girl grew the more I followed her, until it bloomed into a full-blown obsession.

The club has been clearing out for the last half hour or so, and the only stragglers are those in the private rooms and anyone who stuck around to watch Micah and Sienna, which, lucky for me, means the bathroom is empty, and when I flick my eyes around the emptying club, no one is looking my way as I slip into the ladies room.

I turn and lean against the door, keeping my body firmly between Waverly and the exit to make sure she can’t run. I catch sight of myself in the mirror across the room and run my fingers through my hair so it more closely matches Emmett’s and slip my hands into my pockets as I wait.

Despite not growing up in a normal household with a mother that dresses her twins in identical outfits at every opportunity, it doesn’t feel strange to match Emmett now, and it’s definitely coming in handy like I hoped it would.

The only closed door swings open, and Waverly appears. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are bloodshot, making me desperate to go to her, to comfort her, but I force myself to remain rooted in place.

If I want to continue to pretend to be my brother, I need to adopt some of his attributes, even if they don’t come naturally to me. The first one being patience. If I bombard her now, she could run from us both, and that’s not acceptable. It’s not safe for her.

She catches sight of me in the mirror and lets out the most adorable squeak I think I’ve ever heard, and the sound does something to my usually stagnant heart. Sure, the thing keeps me alive, beating away in my chest, pumping blood through my body. But it rarely feels anything. Except for when it comes to this woman.

“What are you doing in here?” she snaps as she turns to face me with her hands poised on her hips. There’s a natural fight in Waverly that has always drawn me to her. I saw it the first time I ever followed her. She was such a tiny thing even though she was less than a year younger than Emmett and me. It took me a while to track her down, I’ll give her that. She ran faster and further than I expected, and even with the resources at my disposal, she made me work for it.

Maybe that’s where my obsession with her began. The chase that started it all. And I haven’t looked back since.

“You’re running,” I say simply, folding my arms across my chest to keep them from touching her.

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