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Cruel Devil: Chapter 22

Kasey

I don’t know what came over me this morning. But when I woke up and Dominique was gone, a part of me crumbled, thinking he’d left me there, alone. Then I heard the water running and I just, I needed to know this wasn’t going to be like all the times before. That he wasn’t going to mess around with me, only to pretend nothing ever happened.

So, I went for broke, and for once in my life, I took my shot. I pulled back the curtain, standing naked and unashamed, and when I saw him standing there with his fingers wrapped around his cock, my need reflected in his eyes, I wanted it to be my hand holding him. I wanted it to be my mouth bringing him his release.

He didn’t push me away when I reached for him. He didn’t tell me to stop or that he didn’t want it. Want me. He moaned when I took him in my mouth. His body shuddered when he spilled his release inside me from behind.

This can’t go anywhere, but I don’t want to stop. I need whatever this is right now to chase away my grief. To push back the pain. I’m not stupid. I know who he is. Who I am. I’m not going to pretend that what we have is sunshine and butterflies with a happily ever after at the end of the rainbow. Because the fallout, if things take a bad turn, it isn’t just the two of us who will be affected. I’m not sure what is going on with my brother, but I know it has to do with more than Mom. I can’t be the reason he loses his best friend, and that’s what will happen if he finds out. His protective brother streak won’t allow it to be any other way.

“So we’re on the same page, then?” I ask, needing the confirmation.

Dominique releases a harsh breath and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. A muscle tics in his jaw, but after a few more seconds pass, he relents. “Fine, we’ll be careful. Henderson will never know I’m boning his baby sister.”

I bark out a laugh. Way to be presumptuous. “You think this will happen again.?”

He gives me a knowing look, his hooded gaze boring into mine. “You saying it won’t?”

I manage a shrug. “Whatever we’re doing here, it’s casual.”

“Agreed.”

“This is not a relationship. We’re not going to hold hands and go on dates.”

He grunts.

“And no catching feelings,” I tell him, as much for my own benefit as his.

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

‘Good.’ I nod. “Aaron can’t ever know—” he opens his mouth to interrupt but I rush on to finish, “I know. You said we’ll be discreet, but I mean it. My brother can’t find out about this. Not even years from now, okay? It never happened.’

‘Fine. Anything else?’

Nothing else comes to mind, so I shake my head.

“Okay. I have questions. I like shit to be black and white. No gray area.” He sucks on his teeth, his expression letting me know he’s not playing around.

“Alright. What are they?”

“You and Deacon, what’s going on there?”

I shrug. “Nothing. He’s nice to me. I told him at the start I was only interested in being friends. He’s cool with it.” Dominique scoffs, but I don’t let it get to me. “Why? Because, just so we’re clear, screwing my brains out doesn’t mean you own me. You don’t get to dictate who I talk to or who I’m friends with.”

His jaw clenches and he grunts.

“Anything else you wanna know?”

“I know you think I get around”—I snort at that—“but if I’m fucking a girl more than once, she’s the only girl I’m fucking, you feel me?”

I narrow my eyes. “What are you saying, exactly?”

“If you decide being friends,” he growls, “with Deacon isn’t enough for you. If you want his dick or someone else’s, do me a solid and let me know before you go testing the waters, alright? I’ll be sure to give you the same consideration if I find myself in a similar situation.”

Anger flashes through me at the thought of him with anyone else. He sees it, and a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Deal?” he asks.

I want to wipe the smug look off his face, but manage to grit out, “Deal.”

“Last question.” He waits until I nod. “Do you want a relationship? Is that what you’re really looking for here?” His tone is even. His eyes not meeting mine. There is zero inflection in his voice to let me know if he’s asking because he wants that, or if he hates the idea and just wants to make sure I don’t want one too.

I go with the response I think he’s most after because right now, I need him to fuck me when I feel like I’m going to spiral and I need him not to be cagey about it. “With you? Definitely not.’ His eyes snap to mine, searching. ‘Look,” I tuck my hair behind my ears and lay everything out for him. ‘You’re arrogant, and most of the time, I can barely stand to be in the same room as you.”

“The feeling is mutual.’

“Right. So, a relationship would never work between us, assuming either of us even wanted one, but fooling around I’m fine with. Does that work for you? I don’t need you to beat around the bush, either. I’m not a kid whose feelings you’re going to hurt with a rejection.” The silence stretches between us. ‘It’s a yes or no question,’ I tell him, my patience growing thin.

He releases a breath, and without answering, he pulls me into his chest and slams his mouth down on mine. His kiss is all-consuming, leaving my head spinning and my heart racing out of my chest.

A needy moan slips past my lips when he finally pulls away. Dark brown eyes meet my own, and in them I see my own desire reflected back to me. “This works for me,” he says. Then he hesitates and asks, “When is your birthday? I know it’s coming up, but I don’t know the date.”

“It was yesterday.”

He pulls back, eyes wide. “You turned eighteen yesterday?” I nod. “And no one said shit? No one remembered, not even your brother?”

I shrug. “Shit happened. It’s bad timing,” I give him a considering look. “Or good, depending on how you look at it.”

He smirks. “Yeah, I see what you’re saying.” He grabs his gym bag and heads for the door, pausing at the threshold to give me a backward glance. “Game’s at eleven. I have to get to the field early and warm up.” I nod, my lips pressing together. “Show up. I don’t want you sitting here alone. You can call one of the girls for a ride if you don’t want to drive yourself.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say, and his eyes darken.

“I’ll see you there. Eleven. And if you wear my number, I’ll think about giving you a belated birthday gift.” He gives me a heated look, and before I can respond, he’s gone.

What the hell did I just get myself into?


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