Page 16 of V for Vindictive

I wanted to know the reason his life became unbearable, and whether or not it still was, but I was afraid of being rejected—the same way I had been with Phillip. The thought of prying into something painful the way I had with Phillip made any questions I had die in my throat. So, I didn’t ask. I couldn’t. Even with everything he and I had done, I wasn’t anyone special to Sloan.

I didn’t have any right to ask those kinds of questions.

After leaving Nigel and his pack, we hadn’t discussed what inevitably took place with Green Dude, and it was probably for the best. My head was riddled with sexual fantasies, and I worried if he brought it up, I might say something I couldn’t take back. I might ask to sleep with him. Of course, he was likely concerned with the whole time-freezing thing where I cut a bastard to pieces. And my ass was over here thinking about touching his pretty baby-soft skin.

Sloan coaxed what little he could from me about my weirdo power moment: the dizziness, the nausea, the overall fear of losing someone close to me. I didn’t divulge how it only seemed to occur with men I seemingly cared about. Honestly, it seemed like a bad idea to give too much away when I couldn’t name what was happening between the two of us, especially since I didn’t have a fucking clue what still remained between Phillip and I.

Shit was whack.

Did I really just walk headlong into another complicated sex—love?—triangle? What was I, the main heroine of some crazy love story?

Buildings scattered across the skyline, and it was evident by their size we weren’t far from the city. Which would be a saving grace since I hateddriving after my long stretch across the great ol’ US of A with Phillip. And just like that, my thoughts strayed back to the Hunter who abandoned me.

Stupid Austrian always soured my mood every time I thought about him.

But it wasn’t just Phillip who left. It was Grams. It was my sense of confidence. It was everything I thought I knew about myself. These days, it felt a lot like swimming out in the open ocean with no idea where to find land or any semblance of stable ground. And even surrounded by people the way I was, I still felt alone. Tragically alone. In bitter moments, I wished I could go back to those ignorant teenager days of fighting vampires. At least during that time, I could trust the ground beneath my feet.

For a moment, I missed Kate so much I wanted to cry. I missed the times I spent being a normal teenager with her. I’d never get those back. And for a long, silent breath, I grieved the loss like I grieved Gramps’s death and Grams’s uncertain fate—and even Phillip’s departure to get answers about what was inside my blood. I let the sadness settle in my chest and throat, and then I swallowed it down and let it fuel my determination to get justice for every person I lost as a result of the very people who created me.

If this were an action film, this would be where the plot hit its climax and the main character realized there wasn’t anyone but them who could change the ending. This was my story.Mine.I’d make damn sure it ended the way I wanted, whatever that meant.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back onto the headrest. “Why does it feel like every time we take five steps forward, we’re always ten steps behind?”

Warmth encompassed my hand, and I looked down to find Sloan’s hand eclipsing mine. “That’s the job, love. Even if you didn’t have the Organization after you, you’d still be left with everything else.”

“Feels an awful lot like I should…I don’t know, just give up? I don’t like it, but what if we don’t succeed and me being alive means they get what they want.”

I wasn’t one for suicidal notions, but sometimes I wondered if it would make it easier if I wasn’t here. If I was the key to crossing over, wouldn’t it be better to take that from them; force their hand and be the one to end it all. At least in that case I’d be the one in control.

The car slowed to a crawl before pulling over with a jerk to the side of the road. My face was suddenly cradled strongly within Sloan’s hands, and the steel-eyed Hunter forced me to look into his stare. What I found wasn’t anger. It wasn’t disappointment or chastisement. No, what floundered in ice-blue depths was a deep, impenetrable sadness. It stole the air in my lungs and took tight hold of my heart.

The other Hunter’s grip tightened and he yanked me closer, his hot breath painting my open mouth. “I know for what reason you even suggest such a thing, but never do it again, V. Never think that your existence is a burden to others. Never suggest death is the only way to right the wrongs, because it isn’t. You are more necessary, more valuable, more of a light in nothing but darkness than you could ever know.” His soft-spoken words hit harder than his punches. “Without you, we’d be lost.”

Mouth gaping, I couldn’t fathom his words before his lips slammed over mine so violently it was more of an attack than a kiss. His low warning growl was all I heard before I was dragged onto his lap and everything faded away.

Only Sloan’s violent kiss remained.

Chapter 6

Thirsty Bitch

It wasn’t my idea of a romantic-mood starter, all this self-end talk, but it’d apparently done the trick. The very thing that plagued me since Green Dude rudely interrupted our post-date mood was happening again, right there on the side of the road.

Okay, so it wasn’t really a great place to make out. We’d definitely chosen the worst spot to rediscover our youthful vigor and baser urges. Passing cars and their passengers would agree it wasn’t a great time to exploit nothing but daylight and dirt roadside. But I didn’t care when Sloan’s mouth was quite literally a meal I couldn’t wait to devour.

His hands were in my hair, under my shirt, inside my pants. Really anywhere within reach he touched. Every caress was an act of desperation and need, until there wasn’t anywhere his hands hadn’t gone.

Had I mentioned how soft Sloan’s lips were? Well, by far the softest I’d ever kissed. And yes, I know I’d only kissed two dudes in total.How sad.But at this rate, my ho-bag days of tomorrow might lead to a baker’s dozen. Maybe that was the goal. So with the prospective kiss-ho label in my future, I sunk into Sloan’s kiss every time our mouths met.

The way his lips took the shape of mine and fused as though they were always meant to be there was sinfully hot. Like romance novel hot. It wasclear as the seconds ticked on Sloan was eager to map out every crevice and groove in my mouth, the curve of my neck, and after yanking my shirt aside, the length of my shoulder. Each movement was a little stronger, a little more insistent, a little pushier, and I couldn’t help but moan my approval.

Super handsome dudes showcasing how sexy they found me and how much they wanted to touch me was apparently a turn-on.

The Brit’s eagerness fed my own, and it turned into a battle of who would be first to take it to the next level when my hands went after his shirt and pants, yanking and pulling to expose the petal-soft skin beneath. It was clear by the tent how hard he was for me, but I swiveled my hips for extra clarity. And his wanting groan and tensing jaw made the inner dominatrix in me proud.

My head fell back, the raging eroticism and arousal making my thoughts hazy and body weak as if slowly easing into a drunken stupor. Without pausing, Sloan traced my throat with his tongue and his fingers ate into my ass when he aggressively dragged me closer, snug against his rolling hips.

Oh God, that action alone was killer. The unparalleled stimulation between my legs, the pleasure and anticipation, remembering the overwhelming sensation of having his thick, throbbing length laying claim to every space inside me, it made it difficult to keep my own hips from swiveling over his with shameless encouragement.

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