Page 43 of These Wicked Games
Pulling on a hoodie, I dig for my coloring book and pencils. I just need my brain to relax right now. So much has happened and I’m struggling to figure out what any of it means. If it even means anything at all.
Opening the sliding door, I step onto the balcony, then drop into the plush chair out here. I sift through the pages, not sure what I’m in the mood for. I just started this marine one, but I may look for something a bit different when I get back home. I settle on an image of two orcas leaping out of the water. I love orcas; I love marine animals in general. I don’t have any tattoos but I’ve thought about getting one. I settle in, ignoring the slight chill out here on the balcony, and try to shut off my brain.
It works for five minutes.
Fucking Oli.
Where did they all go? It reminds me of that night I saw the three of them at Vanessa’s bar. Do they always go out after drinks? That night they won against us, I didn’t want to go home. I knew the brutality that awaited me.
It’s over now. I’m fine. I’ll be okay.
I don’t know why, but heat squeezes my vision. I escaped, but I’m still stuck with these memories. It’s unfair. Even when you escape a terrible situation, you can’t escape your own thoughts and memories of it. Those are yours to keep. Sick little souvenirs.
Each more vivid than the last, as if they’re branded into your brain.
Okay, enough. I don’t want to think about this now. Instead I focus on the page, hoping this wave of emotion will pass as I color.
I’ve decided to color the orcas purple because why the fuck not. I’m out here for a while, and I do a great job of shutting out the poison my brain is soaked with. I’m nearly done with the orcas, and my nose is cold, when I hear the sliding door open to the balcony.
My hand freezes on the page before I look up at the glowering man above me. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Masturbating. Can I have some privacy?”
“Is that a coloring book?”
“Fuck off.”
Oli grunts, turning back inside the room. I’m shocked he came back so early. I’m not really sure how long I’ve sat out here zoned out in my own little world, but I close the book, needing to get answers. It’s time to poke the bear. I can’t keep doing this; I can’t keep hiding away the things I feel.
I’m going to make Kuli listen to me even if I have to strap him to the bed and force his eyes on me!
Well hey now, that’s a vision.
Maybe Oli has been able to go about his business like nothing fucking happened between us, but something did happen. I cannot get the image of Oli above me out of my brain. His heat, his taste, and that thick cock choking me while I came all over the floor like a fucking teenage boy watching porn for the first time.
I set down my coloring book and follow after him. I need answers. I need . . . Fuck, I need that again. Everything that I’d missed had slammed into me the moment he shoved himself down my throat. I watch him rip open the drawers of his dresser, grabbing a pair of boxers. “We need to talk about this!”
“No we don’t.” Oli cracks his neck and it’s like a trigger, imagining him doing that last week in the bathroom, right before he shoved his cock down my throat.Fuck me. My dick definitely takes notice, so on board with this line of thinking.
To say that Oliver Kulivov is a mouthful is an understatement.
What’s worse is how badly I want another taste. While the win tonight was so fucking sweet, I can’t stop thinking about the way he tastes. How rough he is. I nearly choked to death on his dick. I need to do it again, and by how fucking pissed he currently looks I know he does too. He hates me, and nothing will change that, and you know what? I hate him a little too.
I hate what we’ve become.
I hate the way he looks at me now with a special concoction of disgust and desire.
I hate the way he smells—that icy aftershave he’s wearing will be the end of me.
I hate the way those pants he’s wearing are currently containing the most gorgeous dick I’ve ever seen in my life.
I hate the low, gravelly tone of his voice and the way it sends shivers up my spine.
I hate the storm brewing behind those sapphire eyes. I know he wants this as bad as he hates it. Hates me. “Oli—”
“For once in your miserable fucking life, shut the hell up.”
Foreplay it is, then. “Suffocate a guy on your cock and suddenly—” His fingers wrap around my throat, cutting off my words. Pinning me to the wall, Oli looks wild. Like a panther pinning it’s prey. My hands struggle against his, trying to make him let up. He doesn’t.
