Page 52 of Bared Betrayal
“Oh—”
Gabriel’s lips claim mine, hard and heady, his tongue stealing my moans of pleasure. His kiss is deep, fierce, as if I’m the heroin he’s addicted to, feeding off the ecstasy that’s tearing through my body. It’s both painful and euphoric, his lips moving against mine with a desperation that’s deafening. Unsettling. Freeing.
My climax ripples through me as he continues to finger me until he’s sure he’s forced every last drop of pleasure from my body.
I’m out of breath, barely standing, when his fingers leave me slowly, releasing me until the only thing left is something between us that remains unresolved. A power neither of us understands, but now realize it’s unstoppable.
Tearing his lips from mine, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me so close I can hear his heartbeat inside his chest as he weaves his fingers through my hair, tugging hard—the entire moment screaming of desperation and agony.
“Leave this place, Kallie,” he whispers, and my heart constricts. “Go. Run as far away from me and my son as you can before we destroy each other. Before we destroy him.”
He lets go of me abruptly, gripping my chin, and slams his mouth against mine one last time, and a mutual understanding tears through our kiss—an understanding that some things are too toxic, too dangerous, no matter how desperately we want it not to be.
“Leave. Please.” And with those words, he lets go of me, turns, and walks away, leaving me alone in the dark for the voices to take.
Why does it feel as if he just took everything from me? And why do I want to run after him and say…no?
Fifteen
KALLIE
It’s beendays since the party. I haven’t heard from Gabriel, and even though I tell myself it’s a good thing, a part of me wants to see my phone light up with a message from him.
He told me to leave town. I know it would be the best thing if I did, but I can’t get myself to do it. My life is here—at least, a resemblance of a life. It’s familiar here, and familiarity gives me comfort. I gravitate toward it. Maybe, in a sick and twisted way, that’s the reason I’m drawn to Gabriel. He’s Sebastian’s father.Familiar.
No. That can’t be it. I didn’t know who he was that first night at Myth, and our connection was instant, even behind masked faces.
Nevertheless, I should leave. But I can’t. I don’t think I ever will…because she’s here. Maya.
I grab my phone off the nightstand, half expecting a message from Sebastian, but there are none. He left last night for LA. Was it for rehearsals? Or meeting with the scriptwriters? Fuck, I don’t know. My brain short-circuits when he says the words, ‘I have to go out of town.’ I don’t hear much after that.
I rub my eyes as I get out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet, one of Sebastian’s t-shirts hanging loosely down my body. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, a bruise peeking from under my panties. It’s no longer a purple-blue, but has yellowed around the edges, the center a blue-green. It should bother me that my betrayal taints my skin, but at least Sebastian and I haven’t been having sex because he’s just never here, so there’s been no need for explanations or made-up lies of me falling down the stairs and bumping into shopping carts at the grocery store.
I trace the healing bruise with a single finger and suck in a breath, my body reacting to the memory. I close my eyes, thinking of him, his touch, his kiss, his cock—things I desperately crave.
Just as I’m about to slip my hand inside my panties, I stop. “Get a grip,” I tell myself. “All you’ve been doing is fucking masturbating.”
The couch.
The kitchen counter.
The shower.
It’s pathetic…and probably high-time for an appointment with Dr. Theroux again.
Needing to get my day started, I head to the kitchen for some much-needed coffee while I rub my thighs together extra hard with every step I take.
There’s a card stuck to the refrigerator, and I still, staring at it, trying to remember if it was there last night. I don’t remember seeing it.
I open it, the card stock heavy, and there’s only one line printed in block letters.
YOU NEED TO TELL HIM WHO YOU REALLY ARE.
Confused,I take it off the refrigerator, and a newspaper clipping flutters to the ground. I don’t have to pick it up to read it. I know what it says the second I see the headline.
PEARSON SISTERS SAVED FROM SERIAL KIDNAPPER AND RAPIST.
My bloodinstantly drains from my body, and the cloying scent of fear fills my nose as I read those words again and again. My heart pounds in my ears, my mouth instantly dry. Every forced swallow sends jolts of panic through my chest.
