Page 110 of Boys Who Taint

My eyes widen.

What the f—

I glance around to see if anyone’s looking before I grab him by the arm and drag him inside.

“What happened?” I ask. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” he replies stoically.

I close the door and look to see if any of the girls are around. Luckily, it’s only the one who got me out of bed.

“Is he okay? That’s a lot of blood,” the girl says.

“I got a nosebleed while swimming,” he responds.

The girl narrows her eyes at him, but he keeps glaring back until she finally walks away to the kitchen.

I breathe out a sigh and pull him upstairs. “Let’s go.”

I take him into the bathroom and lock the door before I look at him up close. That is definitelynotfrom a nosebleed.

Still, I peel away his shirt without asking questions even though there are singe marks on his chest and nipples. I don’t know what he did, but it sure doesn’t look good.

I pull off his boots and socks, then tear down his soaked pants and underwear. I throw his clothes into the sink and pour hot water over them. I’ve done this before for Silas. And now for my boyfriend.

The blood never rinses out fully, but I gotta make it look good enough so we can throw it away without anyone coming for answers. Tomorrow, we’ll buy him some new clothes.

I won’t ask him what happened. I won’t ask him questions I wouldn’t give answers to myself. It would be hypocritical of me to expect him to tell the truth about his situation when I can’t even tell him the truth about mine.

Silently, I turn on the faucet so the warm water starts running. He steps under it, and the blood begins to pool under his feet.

“You’re not gonna ask me why I’m covered in blood?” he asks, water dripping down his face.

I look at his body and all the red droplets rolling down his pale skin, wondering who he killed.

“If you don’t want to tell me, I’m not going to ask,” I respond, taking off my clothes too, right in front of him.

His hungry eyes sweep over my body as I throw everything in a corner. Suddenly, he grabs my arm, tugs me toward him, and smashes his lips onto mine in a possessive manner. His lips are insatiable, ravenous, almost as if he killed for this kiss. He’s never done this before, and I don’t know if I’m scared by the sudden change in his demeanor or turned on by the surprise.

His tongue licks the roof of my mouth, and he grabs my face, kissing me so hard and deeply that I melt in his arms.

The water rushes down on top of us, and his hard-on grows against my thighs.

Whatever he just did must’ve set him off real bad, but I don’t mind.

Violence is in my blood.

My family has thrived on it for years. Hell, my mother’s business revolves around killing mobsters just to steal their wealth. I know this darkness because I’ve lived with it my entire life.

I’m not scared of him.

And even though I always looked for the calm beneath the storm of our lives, maybe a whirlwind of rage is what I truly need.

So I let him take control, let his fingers travel down my neck, squeezing tighter and tighter as he kisses me.

“I killed for you,” he whispers into my mouth.

I shudder in his grasp.

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