Page 79 of Moon Kissed

She had to go and give me guys that were my perfect match in every way. Even as enemies they were high and above better at getting to me than anyone else. They could dig out my weaknesses like truffle pigs. Just like Paxton knew all the right things to do and say to make me swoon.

Nothing would stand in the way of my revenge. No one was going to stop me, because no one would ever see it coming. As twisted and wrong as their actions were, my fates had done me a favor by putting distance between me and Paxton.

From now on, I wasn’t talking to him, I wasn’t looking in his direction, and I wasn’t flirting with him. Any hopes I had of making use of his power to win my fight was dead.

Paxton Clarke was nothing but air to me.

The boards blew off my windows, as if summoned by my thoughts.

Edric couldn’t see if the lights were on or off, so he erred on the side of caution.

“Would you give it a rest, you saggy-balled dickhead!” I shrieked, running to the window and flinging it into the night.

Edric laughed from his picnic—yes, picnic! The shit-licking son of a hamster kicked back on a thick fleece blanket with two chilled beers on one side, and a plate of Tuscan salmon pasta on the other. The plate I threw went wide, shattering six feet from him.

“I absolutely will,” he called up. “As long as you have something for me.”

“Yeah, I’ve got something for you.” I flipped him off. “And there’s two million more where that came from!”

More laughter from the dickhead. Everything in me wanted to rain more projectiles on him—like the entire fucking wardrobe—but he’d just blast it away with his powers. Worse, if it hit him, I’d be smacked upside the head with the pain too.

“This ends when you say it does, Volana.” Edric kicked back, sipping his beer. “Give me my money, then turn yourself in and get out of my life. I promise you, I’ll let you sleep in peace down in your pit.”

Fury set my eyebrows alight. I took it back. I took it all back. There’s no way this prick was my soulmate. Even if we were on good terms, I wouldn’t have made it a week with him without strangling him!

I inhaled a deep breath and held it.Calm down and think, Daze. You’re not spending any more nights cuddling in the dirt with a squirrel. It’s only the cover of being alone in your room that lets you move about freely, and because of him chasing you out every night, you’re way behind on the plan.

This has to stop. You have to make him stop—for good.

My internal scolding did nothing for me. Of course I knew I had to make him stop. The question was how.

I gazed down at him, eyes narrowing. “Hmm... maybe...”

“What’s that, Volana?” The shitbrick was enjoying himself immensely. “Did you forget Sunella’s number? No worries. I know it by heart. It’s nine three—”

“No,” I sliced in. “I was actually thinking that you better leave now, or I’ll have no choice but to make you.”

Edric paused with his beer pressed to his plump, kissable lips. “Make me?” He laughed out loud. “How do you think you’re going to do that?”

“Easily. I have ways of making you do what I want.” His mocking laughter only got louder. “I’ve held back until now because I wanted to save you the humiliation of realizing you’re nothing but a puppet to my whims, but honestly, my goodwill’s all dried up now.”

Edric fell over guffawing. “Luame help you, woman. You’ve done it. You’ve finally lost your mind. There’s nothing you can do that—”

I yanked my top over my head and flung my bra across the room after it.

Edric cut himself off so fast, he choked.

“Oooh, Edric, yes, baby,” I moaned, wining and rubbing my hands down my body. “Ah, touch me there.”

“Wha— Wha— What are you doing?” he croaked, shooting up on his hands and feet as if preparing to run. “Stop that.”

“I’ll stop if you don’t, baby.” Fingers skating up over my stomach, I cupped my breasts and smooshed them together, jiggling them over the windowsill.

Sweat beaded on his brow, as stark as the impressively thick bulge straining to get free of his pants.

“Touch me, Edric. Make me yours. Make me c—”

Edric beat it across the lawn so fast, he crushed his beer bottle underfoot, cut himself, and left a trail of bloody footprints to mark the coward’s retreat.

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