Page 84 of The Revenge Plan (Forbidden Descendants 1)

He smirked smugly. “You want to know why I had to go to other women, huh, Haven? Because you’re like fucking a cold, plastic tube.”

My stomach dropped as he laughed. Around me, a couple of doors came open, and heads popped out to watch the show we were putting on.

So everyone heard Topher when he announced, “It’s like sticking my dick into a mannequin with you. Just lying there, asking how much longer until I’m done, refusing to give me head, never trying anything new. And you seem so shocked that I needed to go elsewhere for it. You want to know why, well… You’re why. You’re the worst lay I ever had.”

Dizziness assailed me as snickers and outright laughter came from all the gaping onlookers. But I stood tall and met Topher’s gaze head-on as I nodded. “Well, thank you for enlightening me,” I told him. “Luckily, you never have to suffer through me again.”

Not feeling as big, or powerful, or awesome as I had a minute ago, I marched from the building, just trying to hold it together.

A numb coldness spread over my limbs and partially froze my brain too because it took until I was halfway home for me to realize, hey, I couldn’t remember ever once turning him down when he asked for a blowjob. There had been times I’d been hesitant and uncertain about different positions, but I had usually let him try anything at least once. And I didn’t just lie there. Plus, never had I ever asked him when he was going to finish. Jesus.

What a fucking prick liar.

By the time I shoved open the door to my apartment, I was steaming mad.

“He is such a…” Unable to concoct a description awful enough to describe his despicableness, I slammed the door behind me and made a sound that was half growl, half scream of outrage, frustration, and anger.

Tossing my purse in the nearest chair, I ripped off my jacket, fumbling and cursing until I was free of the material before I slapped it over the purse as hard as I could so I could pace the front room and mutter anatomically impossible epitaphs for Topher.

“So… I take it things went well?” Wick guessed dryly from the couch where he was stretched out, his sock-covered feet crossed at the ankles at the other end and his laptop on his lap as he tugged a pair of earbuds from his ears.

I shot him a killer glare. “Oh, it went wonderful,” I snarled. “All he could talk about was you.”

He pulled his face back, shock splashed across his features. “Me?”

“Yes! You. Why does he hate you so much?”

Wick shook his head wearily. “Good question, but sorry, I don’t have a clue what goes through that idiot’s brain.”

“Well, do you know why you hate him? Do you at least know that?” I challenged hotly.

His gaze narrowed and he stared intently a moment before softly saying, “Oh, I know exactly why I hate him.”

“Well, does he know?” I wondered.

“He’d be even more of the idiot than I gave him credit for if he didn’t.”

“He said you wanted revenge against him,” I murmured, remembering that part. “He said you’re only sniffing around me because of him… Because you just want to use me to get back at him.”

With a bored sigh, Wick merely shook his head. “Wow. The douche really does know how to spin an interesting story, doesn’t he?”

When I said nothing, he narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured in a soft, serious voice. “Were you trying to ask if what he’d said was true?”

At first, I didn’t answer. Then, I slowly shook my head back and forth. “No,” I answered, though something in me wanted to know more about the history between him and Topher. “I don’t see how it could be since you and I never spoke a word to each other until I ran into you, and I literally forced my way into your sister’s room, then practically bullied my way into becoming your roommate. You made it very clear you weren’t keen on the idea of me living with you. I wouldn’t think a guy eager to get into my good graces in order to use me would be quite so…resistant over those things.”

Gaze going hooded and thoughtful, Wick studied me for a long moment. Then he glanced away. “It is hard not to think about him when I look at you,” he finally admitted, his voice low, almost hoarse. “But I’m trying not to hold that against you.”

I swallowed and glanced down, wondering what went through his head when he was around me, what he really thought of me.

“Do you think it really would hurt him if he thought we were…you know?”

He glanced at me, his eyes gleaming. “Fucking?” he asked, finishing the question for me.

When his gaze slid over me, heat scored my skin. If a person could physically feel a stare, then I swore, I felt his right between my legs. It took everything I had not to squirm and blush as I cleared my throat and glanced away, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “Yeah,” I said, rolling my hand in a vague motion of agreement. “That.”

Wick shrugged. “Not sure. But I know it’d be pretty hard to dent a self-inflated ego like his.”

He was probably right.

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