The first week hasn’t been so bad.
James texts me regularly, making sure I’m taking my meds and keeping up with all the therapy and recommendations from the counselors. I’ve been telling him everything is fine. Routine, yes, but fine.
Manageable, I remind myself.
The sleep medication has been helping a great deal. I stay asleep all night and wake up well-rested in the morning. Liam hasn’t woken me up again since the first night. From the small glimpses I get of him getting dressed in the mornings, he doesn’t have any new cuts, so hopefully that means he isn’t still sneaking out.
Avoiding the men’s showering schedules has been another story.
I am not ashamed of my body. No. In fact, I think I look pretty good. But I hate people looking at me.
Early morning is the only time I can get the bathroom to myself (and a few other early-bird women). I woke up late on Wednesday and had to shower at nine.
Never. Again.
The men had something new to look at and every stall was full. Some people were fucking, others were singing nonchalantly and enjoying their shower, while I was like a deer in the headlights trying to get in and out as fast as I could.
Thank God Liam wasn’t in there.
On the way out, I bumped into Lanston, and the deep red of his cheeks told me he’d probably seen every inch of me.
Manageable.
The sessions are already getting easier to sit through. I have the same schedule every day, except Tuesdays, when I meet with Dr. Prestin after the morning workout. I still haven’t played the piano during the music session. Neither has Liam, who I was surprised to see in there with me. We just take turns sitting at the piano as Jericho calls us up.
It’s surprisingly easy to fall in line and go with the flow. Without external forces like a social life, work, family, and pressure from myself to do better, I’m finding that life here isn’t so bad.
The few people that I call my friends are as sick as I am, and I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged somewhere more.
“What are your plans this weekend?” Yelina grabs the pink polish and spreads a fresh coat on her fingernails. I settle for a nude beige. My room already stinks of nail-polish fumes and I even cracked the window before we started. Liam’s going to throw a fit—I just know it.
“I don’t have any plans.”
She sets down the bottle and gives me a once-over. “Really? You’re not doing something with Liam?” She seems more annoyed on my behalf than jealous. It’s been hard for her to accept that I’m his roommate, but I’ve assured her that we don’t get along.
“Are you really surprised? He hardly talks to me, and when we do talk, we’re either arguing or talking about how much we dislike each other.” I sigh, finishing the coat on my thumb before blowing on it so it dries faster.
Yelina looks down and deflates a bit. “Well, at least he talks to you. He won’t even look at me.” She pouts, drawing skulls on her nails with white paint now.
Liam’s always looking at me, watching me constantly when we’re in the same room. I can’t seem to escape his icy gaze.
“So, what do you do on the weekends?” I change the subject.
She tilts her head so her blonde hair falls over her shoulder as she tries to get a better angle in the light. “I visited the town last weekend but there wasn’t much to do. There’s like one bar and a tattoo parlor.”
Bakersville is pretty small. I’m shocked there’s even a tattoo shop.
“Well, want to meet in the lobby in the morning and make plans together?” I say casually. I suck at asking people to hang out and I’m not afraid to admit it.
She tuts and side-eyes me. “Sorry, Wynn. I’m booked all weekend. I’m sure Lanston has time for you though. He’s always sulking around. You two are good for each other in that way.”
“You don’t have to be a bitch about it. Just say you’re busy.” I glare at her. Damn, these new meds make me a hard-ass. I kinda like it.
She snatches the polishes she brought with her and stands up furiously. She doesn’t say anything, but she slams the door behind her.
Manageable.
Liam comes back into the room later than usual.
I don’t bother looking up at him. I’m reading a thriller and just got to the part where the heroine falls in love with the murderer. He chases her into an abandoned factory and then switches his identity before going to her. I flip the page. She finds blood on his collar and screams—
“That good?”
I jolt and grip my book so hard it bends the spine.
“Fuck, Wynn. What are you reading?” I don’t have time to protest before Liam’s invading my space and lying beside me on the bed. I scoot over a bit so we’re not smashed together in the center.
“Jesus, invite yourself over, why don’t you,” I grumble, narrowing my eyes at him. His blue eyes are intent on the book and a boyish grin pulls at his lips. “Are you drunk?”
“I had a few drinks with Lanston. That doesn’t mean I’m drunk.” He rolls his eyes and taps the pages carelessly, crinkling a few of them. “Come on, what were you reading?”
I pull the book away from him hastily and shoot him a glare. “Stop that. It’s a thriller romance.”
He laughs and rolls to his back. “So it’s a porno?”
My cheeks warm. “Oh my God. Go back to your bed, Liam.” I set the book on my nightstand and watch him. He’s just staring at the ceiling, breathing deeply with a stupid grin on his lips.
“Can we play a game?” he asks, lifting his head to meet my eyes. His dark hair is disheveled, making him all the more beautiful. His icy stare digs deep into my soul.
“What game?” I raise a suspicious brow.
He sits up and leans closer. “Truth or dare.”
I hold my ground and stiffen my resolve. “That’s childish.”
“Ask me first, come on.” His expression is cold and curious.
Am I really going to play this game with him? Then again, why not? It’s Friday night, I have nothing better to do, and at least we’re talking. That’s progress, I guess.
“Fine, truth or dare?”
“Dare.” His eyes trail down my chest before flicking back up.
“I dare you to paint your nails.” I grab the black polish from my makeup bag and toss it to him.
His lips curl and a dark, unsettling look falls over his features. “All right. Truth or dare, sunshine?” He unscrews the top and starts painting his toenails.
I think for a moment. If I choose truth, he might ask me things I’m really not in the mood to dig up right now.
“Dare.”
He chuckles and narrows his eyes at me. “Kiss me.”
“Are you sure you’re not drunk?”
Liam laughs again and shakes his head. “I’m not. Are you going to do it or not?” He stares at me with a burning fire in his eyes.
My heart thrums unsteadily. His blue eyes pierce me with need and his sharp jaw begs to be touched. He finishes his last toe and tosses the bottle of nail polish on the bed. “Well?”
It’s just a kiss. He already kissed you before, so it’s not a big deal.
I lean forward and give him a quick peck on the lips. His oak scent burns my senses and heat coils in my stomach just being so close to him.
“What was that?” He barks out a laugh. “You call that a kiss?”
Oh my God, this man. He infuriates me to no end.
Fine. Fuck it.
I look at him from beneath hooded eyes and crawl into his lap. His chest is taut and warm against mine, his arms open like he doesn’t know what to do, taken by surprise with my boldness. I wrap one hand around his head and fist his hair while the other splays across his tight jaw. I can feel the gulp he takes as my lips draw close to his. Liam’s eyes widen with lust and desire. His length is already hardening beneath me and I haven’t even kissed him yet.
“Here’s your kiss, masochist.”
I press my lips against his. It’s like sailing right into a storm you know you’ll never come back out of. The second his hands trail up my hips and lower back, I know I’ve landed in his trap. My heart pounds and I can’t help but let him deepen the kiss. His tongue coaxes my lips until I open for him and our tongues explore each other.
My legs relax on either side of him as the ecstasy of this moment starts to take me. Our breaths grow harder as we kiss viciously—every pull of my lip and bite of his has us moaning louder and squeezing each other’s flesh harder. His hands are burning into my waist and the more my body jerks to rub on his cock, the shorter his breaths become.
Why’d he have to be so fucking beautiful? I hate this man. I hate him.
His hand slips under my sweater and quickly finds my breast. I inhale sharply and he smiles, pulling away just enough to look into my eyes.
“This is what you get for teasing me before.” He gently pulls on my nipple. I try to cry out but his lips are already crushing back on mine, so it’s muffled into a groan. He kneads my breast and holds me tightly against him with his other hand, pumping his hips so his dick rubs against me feverishly.
“I remember you promising to unalign my hips by morning days ago,” I say with venom against his lips.
His eyes are icy as he whispers, “Are you calling me a liar?” His voice is so low it stirs fear in my veins. That delicious, dark tone of his that skates on my nerves like fire on ice.
“Maybe,” I say breathlessly. “As long as you don’t get the wrong idea.”
“And what idea would that be?” He pulls down my tank top to expose my breast, taking my nipple in his mouth eagerly. He swirls my nipple with his tongue, urging my hips to grind into his boner.
“Don’t think for a second that I like you. You’re just a guy with a dick, it happens to be Friday night, and I’m horny.”
He bites my breast and I cry out. Did he seriously just bite me? Oh, the things I want to do to Liam, how I want to hurt him and punish him.
“I fucking hate you, Wynn. You repulse me.” His eyes lift to mine with fire within them, but they widen when he sees a tear rolling down my cheek. I can’t say if it’s from the sting of his bite or his words, but it’s a bodily response only. My cold heart doesn’t bat an eye at his attempt to hurt me. I’ve got that shit steeled and reinforced.
He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. But I don’t miss the way his ire lightens as he traces every angle of my face. I find myself doing the same to him. It’s not so hard when you’re staring at someone as painfully and irrefutably beautiful as him. His dark lashes are so long and thick they highlight his entire face, making his ocean eyes all the more irresistible. How many women have lost their hearts to eyes like his?
Liam lifts his hand and drags his forefinger down the side of my face. I fight the urge to lean into it because I’m positive that it is anything but comforting. He presses his tongue against my cheek, licking the tear from my face like an animal.
“Even your tears repulse me.”
I hate him so fucking much.
I drop my head to his shoulder and sink my teeth into his flesh to let my anger out. My breast stings from where he bit me, and I hope this fucking hurts him just as bad.
Liam grips my ass hard and lets out a groan so deep that it rumbles in my chest. “Fuuuck, you know I love pain, baby.” His hand slides up to my throat and tightens, then slides down to my sternum, pushing me back so I fall on the bed.
My veins fill with adrenaline as his eyes darken and he yanks my silk shorts off with one swift pull.
“Safe word is pancakes,” he says indifferently, bending down and nipping the inside of my thigh. I hold my breath and watch as his beautiful face dips down again, closer to my pussy. His dark hair tousled from the way I fisted it. “Did you hear me?”
I nod like a furious, sex-drunk idiot.
His feverish grin and sends chills up my spine. “Good, because unless you say it, I’m not stopping.”
His tongue teases my clit and I’m instantly fisting the sheets. He slides a finger inside my pussy, groaning when he finds how wet I am already. I let my head fall back as the pleasure rolls through me. He licks me slowly, in agonizing strokes that have me rolling my eyes and clenching my jaw to keep the pleasured moans I know he wants to hear in my throat. He pumps his fingers into me hard, with a rhythm that has me coasting close to my climax.
Liam’s other hand is planted on my thigh, squeezing my flesh so tightly I know there will be bruises in the morning.
I hate you. I fucking hate you.
He takes me closer and closer to the edge until I’m coming undone. My thighs fight to close around his head but he holds them firmly in place as he devours me. My pussy is so sensitive, but he is relentless, licking and stroking me until he’s satisfied, leaving my legs trembling.
I hardly get a moment to breathe before his hand wraps around my throat. My eyes widen and fear trickles through my veins. He dips his face to mine, licking up my jaw until his lips are against the shell of my ear.
“Are you scared of me?” he whispers in a low, raspy tone.
My heart thrums and my breaths are labored. His grip on my throat isn’t tight; it makes me wildly uncomfortable but also… excited? My brain tells me it’s wrong on so many moral levels, but my traitorous flesh screams something entirely different. I like it—I really, really fucking like it.
“Yes.”
He chuckles and leans back, pulling his sweatpants down and freeing his dick. I swallow several times, trying to make sense of how we got to this point—me staring at his unnaturally large penis and him rubbing the tip of it along my stomach. My core hurts with how much need pulses there.
“Your skin is so soft, Wynn. Your hair is perfect. Your eyes are damning. There’s nothing more I’d like than to have you choking on my dick.” His eyes hold contempt for me, but my focus is on his swollen cock pressing into my flesh and drawing lines on my stomach.
Would he fuck me with as much rage as his eyes betray? Would it make him stop being so spiteful? I’ve never been hate-fucked. I’m sure it’s not passionate or adoring, but you only live once, right?
It’s Friday night.
This is manageable.
“Just fuck me and get it over with, jackass,” I sneer at him.
Liam stares at me with his jaw flexed. A smooth, too-calm smile spreads over his lips and manic light flickers across his eyes.
“Bareback then,” he growls, flipping me over ruthlessly and lining his dick up with my pussy.
“You have to wear a condom!” I try to crawl away but his grip is bruising on my hips.
“Do I? After you said such a nasty thing?”
My blood chills, and I panic as I feel his length sliding up and down my slit. The skin of his tip is so soft and sensual it makes my knees weak. “Pancakes! Pancakes!” I scream.
He instantly releases his hold on me and I huddle up against the headboard, pulling the blanket up to cover myself from his lingering cold eyes.
“Jesus, Wynn, I thought you could play on my level, remember?” he says casually, like he knew exactly what he was doing this whole time. He stands and pulls his sweatpants back up, not even sparing me a second glance. I truly disgust him, don’t I?
“God knows what a degenerate like yourself has,” I snarl at him. “Do you even know what a fucking condom is?”
He turns fast, looking over his shoulder at me with new fire flickering in his gaze. “You know we have to all be clean to be admitted here, right? It’s part of the requirements, since obviously people fuck like rabbits here. Did your rich big brother mention that to you, or did he just send your tests without your knowledge?”
I stare at him dumbfounded.
James. I hope you’re prepared for another wordy text.
I feel like a complete idiot—I should’ve read the fucking contract.
“That’s what I thought. Poor, dead-eyed Wynn. Can’t even get her rocks off because she’s so belligerently boorish.”
That sets off something so feral inside me that I don’t even realize I’m moving until I’m already committed to it. I tackle him to his bed and pound on his chest furiously, screaming that I hate him over and over until his surprised expression breaks into a cruel laugh.
My eyes widen and I freeze, palm still fisted over his chest and trembling with rage. Did I just attack someone like a fucking wild animal? Oh my God.
“Same safe word?” He glares at me as he secures my body against his chest and pulls his dick out again. We eye one another with gnashing teeth and hate brimming past any healthy point.
“A worm like you can’t make a woman like me come.” I level my eyes with him and give him a daring, spiteful grin.
“I’ll take that bet.”
“You’re disgusting.” I spit in his face and he groans, pretending to like it.
“And you’re cheap.” He laughs, shoving his dick inside me so hard I cry out with the pressure of his length filling me to the brim. He doesn’t give me a second of reprieve before he’s pumping into me savagely, every inch of him buried so deep inside me and it feels so fucking good.
I hate him.
But as his dick pumps into me and sends heat and pleasure through my core unlike any I’ve ever felt, as I press my breasts against his wide chest and my head falls into the crook of his neck, I don’t think it’s hate.
And that thought scares me.
More than God. More than dying and rotting in the ground.
Liam breathes sharply and holds me close, fingers digging into my back and ass. His hard, violent thrusts slow to a rhythmic pump. This close, I can hear his heartbeat quicken.
I moan as he pulls all the way out to his tip and teases my entrance with his head before pushing in again, all the way to the hilt and grinding hard into me like we’ll never part.
I look up at his face, with curiosity or desire, I’m not sure which. To see if he still has that look on his stupid, beautiful face from when he called me boorish.
His brows are pulled together in anguish and his eyes drip with lust and pleasure. He stops moving for a moment, his dick fully inside me. Liam reaches up for my jaw and pulls me in for a desperate kiss.
It’s so much more than a kiss. My heart pounds like a war drum in my chest and butterflies flap their wings inside my stomach.
Our tongues quickly find one another and he starts to thrust into me again.
It’s too tender and warm, especially after our heinous words. “I might get the wrong idea if you fuck me softly like this, Liam. Don’t be afraid to be your brutish self,” I say with venom.
“You just can’t stop egging me on, can you?” he snarls against my lips.
He pulls out of me and shoves my chest into the bed, pulling my ass to the edge of the mattress where he stands and slaps my pussy with his dick. I fist the sheets and scream into the blankets as he pounds into my heat once more. Ruthlessly, the way a man like him knows how.
He fucks me so hard it hurts. I scream with each thrust. His dick hurts, his hands hurt, his words hurt.
Everything about Liam hurts.
He ceases and groans low as his dick pulses inside me. I can feel the throbbing of his release as my pussy clenches, desperate for his come.
Asshole.
He holds himself there for a few moments before withdrawing and rolling me over so my back is on his sheets and I’m facing him. His forehead is sweaty, his black hair clinging to the side of his face.
He’s beautiful. A fallen angel—a devil.
“I hope you’re on birth control,” he says indifferently, fire burning in his eyes.
I smile innocently. “No, I’m not, actually. I’m on my fertile cycle too.” His eyes shift to horror and he looks down at my pussy, dripping with his come. “I’m joking. Of course I’m on birth control, you fucking psychopath.”
He audibly sighs and I don’t miss the smile he covers with his hand. “Okay, I’ll admit that was too far, but I was waiting for you to say pancakes again… and well, you didn’t.”
“After you called me boorish and cheap?”
His expression softens. “I was pissed… I shouldn’t have said those things. You’re not cheap. Boorish sometimes.” He grins playfully at me. Something has lightened between us. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for saying you’re just a guy with a dick and that you’re a degenerate… and disgusting.”
He laughs and helps me up, his fingers lingering on my wrist as I move by him. I wrap myself in my bathrobe and spare him a glance before I reach the door.
“Coming? Or do you not shower after hate-fucking your roommate?”
