Seducing Virtue (Wicked Trinity Book 3)

by Courtney Lane

  She dropped it as though it suddenly ignited and burned her hand. “I don’t want to be here. I’m ready to go now.” She twirled around and marched outside of the house.

  “Keaton?” I clutched her shoulder, coaxing her to face me.

  She stared at me with a fear settling in her eyes that shouldn’t have been there.

  “I would ask about what’s going on in your head, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t tell me.”

  She gripped my waist, stunning me, and stepped closer, resting her head on my chest. “I’m so sorry, Braedan. You deserved better.”

  I didn’t waste the opportunity of having her close to me, and held her. “I survived.”

  She looked up at me, tears brimming her eyes. “Did you really?”

  Her question set me off course. I was dizzy without knowing my direction.

  In a sudden exchange, everything I hoped for in the immediacy and future had changed.

  Silence was a powerful, suffocating wind between us. I hadn’t the slightest idea how to approach her. My thoughts were stuck in a time warp, and it was apparent she didn’t want to discuss what she’d been shown. I’d revealed to her the place of my darkest dreams because I knew it was needed. I allowed her fully into a place inside my past I’d never permitted anyone to touch…and now I’d never felt more astray.

  A bar stood forty miles from the compound, the only in proximity that at times had karaoke nights. It was pure good fortune to discover the place still standing. Nothing had changed; the wood paneling, peanut shells covering floor, and neon signs for defunct breweries behind the counter brought me back to a different time. The place was nostalgic; it was the place where I tasted my first drink, and subsequently, the first time I’d experienced the subduing effects of inebriation.

  Together, Keaton and I settled into the dusky chairs in a secluded corner of the bar. When the waitress came around to take our orders, I ordered for Keaton who appeared stuck in another world.

  “I’ll be right back,” I told Keaton, touching her knee to bring her back to solid ground.

  She nodded and continued to stare into the unknown.

  Watching Keaton covertly as I strode to the bar, I made a split decision. The travel to my hometown was the first foot to fall in the wrong direction, and I was treading too far in the wrong direction to hope to find my way back to the original road.

  “Bam is making your dinners up right now.” The bartender ceased wiping down the counter with a dingy white cloth and observed me for what appeared to be the first time. “I remember you, you know.” A familiar smile presented itself on her face. “You came here years ago and got shit-faced and barfed all over my counter.”

  “Not exactly the way I wanted to be remembered.” My smile was tame.

  “Well. You growed up real nice.” She ogled me for a moment, her smile brightening. “What can I get you, hon?” She roved around the bar and clasped one of my preferred drinks.

  “Nothing to drink.”

  “Did AA, huh?” She released the bottle and presented me with a look of pity. “I knew you’d become a drunkard the way you tossed those bourbons back.”

  “Does the machine operate?” I pointed to the small television and stereo equipment on the small stage. “I have someone with me who would like to serenade your customers.”

  “The machine’s been broken for years. Bam still plays that guitar over there on weekends.” Her blue eyes, offset with a shimmering blue color on her lids, darted toward Keaton “It’s slow right now. With you being the only customers who want to eat, I’ll tell Bam to hop on his guitar when he’s done fixing your food. We could use some song. Hope your girlfriend’s good.”

  “She’s better than good. She’s incredibly gifted.” I gave her a parting nod and returned to the table.

  Keaton poked at her food, having barely touched the overcooked chicken wings in the twenty minutes the food remained on the table. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not that hungry.”

  My elongated sigh made her eyes shoot up to mine, and she apologized again.

  The squealing sound of a microphone made her stir.

  “Looks like we got some real live talent around here.” Bam settled himself on the stool, propping his guitar on his thigh. “She’s going to serenade you all with a song. Come on up here, sweetheart.” Pure mortification seized Keaton’s delicate face when the bearded man in a worn T-shirt invited her onto the stage.

  “Is this your doing?” she charged at me.

  “Maybe.” My smile was difficult to tame.

  “I can’t do this.” Panic rifled through her words. “I haven’t sung since…”

  Taking hold of her hand as it rested on her knee, I held it firmly. “Which is exactly why you should.” I brushed my hand over the side of her head and gave her a grin, hoping it comforted her. “If you’re embarrassed, remember, you’ll never see these people again.”

  The entire list of patrons—totaling five, began to chant, encouraging Keaton. With her shoulders curled, exemplifying a posture I’d never seen her hold, she ambled toward the stage.

  Adjusting herself on the stool offered to her by Bam, she looked back at the man holding a guitar and had a short conversation with him. Clearing her throat, she checked the microphone. Her melody unfurled from her mouth, slow at first, humming to the beat of the guitar as she closed her eyes. Relaxing, she transformed the meaningless humming into impromptu words.

  Her voice was thick and sweet as freshly tapped molasses and laden with mood. I was captivated and enraptured in her voice. The words mattered little. Her cadence punished me by revealing what was truly in her heart. Her soul was crying out for a reprieve.

  As I watched her hold her last note with her eyes shuttered, her neck elongated and the shadows and dim halogen lights hit her face so perfectly; I never thought she looked more beautiful and more pure. She was reminiscent of the Keaton in the pictures. In this moment, she was the Keaton I wanted and had no idea had died a long time ago…until now.

  In that instant, she implanted herself inside my bones. She assumed control of my nervous system. Everything. I remained still because she willed it. I would only move because she willed it. She had become my axis.

  I lived my life in a comfortably claustrophobic canyon overfilling with darkness. The exit was devoid of any illuminance. With her, my surroundings were beginning to lighten. I was beginning to see the bright path to the exit and felt guilty over knowing it was within my reach.

  They label it as falling, but I felt as though I was ascending. Clutched in a warm grip, pulling me up toward the sky. The warmth of the sun is on my back, but my eyes are open and I see nothing but a dark dismal scene below me, shocking me with the knowledge of what I didn’t deserve.

  It was altering and devouring. I could barely breathe; it felt familiar to a panic attack with the weight of the world propped against my chest. I abruptly left the bar, my stride leading me out the emergency exit door beside the stage. I couldn’t decipher specific scenes or sounds.

  I pulled at the neck of my sweater and crouched down to try to steady my breaths. My hands were shaking and the blood pumped vividly and loudly. My eyes watered. My gaze was set to the sky as though it would assist in curing what was ill.

  My senses cleared, but I barely felt human. The musty scent of the air, pending more snow, and the faint sounds of the bar echoed into a hollow.

  The door creaked beside me. Keaton appeared in my view, behaving timidly. Her hands glided down her jeans, slipping into pockets that barely had enough room for her hands. “Was it…bad?”

  My spine became perpendicular to the ground as I held her gaze. “I’ve told you in the past how beautiful I thought your voice was. That hasn’t changed.”

  “Then…what’s wrong?”

  “I…I’m not sure.” The gravel beneath us captivated my attention as I rubbed the back of my perspiring neck.

  “You’re shaking.” A dainty hand reached out to touch me.

  Her
hands on my face amplified everything to an unsustainable level. I was frying in a bucket of acid that was so discomforting I couldn’t stand to be in my own skin.

  “Your voice has changed,” I said, replaying her voice and exacerbating the unknown sensation she’d forced me to feel. “It carried more pain, more blues. More soul.”

  “I don’t know about the soul part. Agree with the pain and the blues part.” She dropped her hands from me, making the sensation worse instead of better. “Because you and your brother put it there.”

  “I could feel it, Keaton,” I said, verbalizing the feeling as I named it. “I wanted this. I wanted you to feel something for me so I could taunt him with it. I wanted revenge. I wanted him to lose what he stole from me. I can’t say I want those things anymore. I can’t say I care if I admit something to you and if it will change everything.”

  Sighing, I slid from her and turned my back on her. “I know it’s not enough and you’re right to say what I did was unforgivable. I realize that now. I know it. Nothing I can do or say will change that, but, Keaton…I’m sorry for what I put you through.”

  “Say it, Braedan.” She marched up to me, pushing her body against me and nearly knocked me off balance. “Say what you did to me and apologize. Admit it.”

  I hadn't the slightest idea where the courage came from, but I held her gaze and said what felt true. “I…raped you. I violated you. I hurt you. It was nothing that you did, and it wasn’t your fault. I am the one to take the complete and total blame. No more excuses. I’m sorry. All I can do is put the power back in your hands. The direction of my future is yours to decide.”

  I could hear her gasp, and a sob follow immediately after.

  It took a monumental amount of self-control to keep myself from holding her. The predator was at the surface and he wanted to come out to play. He wanted to punish her for making me this way—for consuming me and making me fall for her so deeply I couldn’t stand to be in my own body.

  I never intended for this. Possess her. Own her. Mold her into someone other than the woman Noah made her become. Everything was fucked. I couldn’t have what I desired most anymore. It could never happen. “I want to set you completely free. From me. From him. From yourself. I want to do what I promised you at Rebirth, but I want to do it your way.”

  “What if I don’t want that anymore?”

  “Keaton…no.” I shook my head, struggling with my need to touch her. “When we get to a hotel, I’ll reserve separate rooms.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t fucking control myself around you anymore!” I shouted, making her startle and recoil.

  She looked up at me through her dark eyelashes. Drops of snow stained her face and her hair. “Then don’t.” Her shoulders straightened as she stood erect. “Stop treating me like I’m fragile and show me everything there is to you, Braedan. Even the monster. I need to see every part of you. You. Not Reven. Not whoever you were to try to get me to fall for you. Show the real you to me.”

  “The real me? I’m unsure of what that is. I never enjoyed inflicting pain. I tolerated watching pain inflicted on others. Death…torture…fucking, they weren’t things that excited me. Power: It was the one thing I enjoyed about being Reven at Rebirth. You? Your pain, your joy, your pleasure, your cries, your tears? Everything you gave me made me feel as though I penetrated every part of you. The way you felt. The way you bled. The way you cried. It entranced me and it makes me feel human again. I wanted everything you gave me. I wanted every part of you.”

  “What changed?”

  “Don’t you understand? Your pain has become mine. It made me recall the worst events in my life and it’s…making me break all over again. I’m so open to you, Keaton. I’m so completely open that I should be the one scared of getting hurt.”

  “You’re…in love with me?” Her eyes widened and her position curled inward.

  “I think I always loved you, Keaton, but now…I’m in love with you.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered as though I’d thrown a burning substance into her eyes. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “I’ll never get beyond the mistakes I made with you, will I? No matter what I do or say, it will always be my permanent red brand.”

  “I…I don’t know what to say to you.”

  I clawed at my chest as a burn ignited my lungs, suppressing my breaths. “It’s time I picked up a more extreme method to prove how sorry I am.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I turned my back on her and headed toward the car. I started up the engine and revved it. She walked up to the front of the car, staring at me. It was too oppressive to continue to engage her.

  Her stare was a heavy weight on my back. I felt her, studying and dissecting me and I couldn’t say I enjoyed it. I backed out of the space and quickly headed to the first hotel I could find, fully intending to do what I vowed to do and find us separate rooms.

  The air conditioning must’ve been broken. It was odd to need air in the thick of winter, but the room was stifling. Between my cold shower and wearing nothing between me and a pair of lightweight and loose cotton pants, I had nothing left to do but to get naked. A knock on the adjoining door of my hotel room, leading to Keaton’s room, stopped me from wiggling out of the only item of clothing covering part of my body. I stared at the door, intending to ignore it, but I heard it again.

  I shut off the lights and rubbed my eyes. Opening the door, I released a false yawn, and peeked through my halfway shuttered eyes to view Keaton standing in the doorway of her darkened room. The sight of her halted my breathing, and I had to remind myself to pursue the involuntary action.

  Her skin was completely wet and she was wearing a light-colored dress that clung to every curve and left very little to the imagination. Nothing was between her and the dress. Her hair was up in some sort of messy style revealing the gold glow of her shoulders and collarbone. “Can I come in?”

  The answer should’ve been no. I couldn’t force myself to decline. I was too focused on preventing myself from being erect. The way her eyes fell over my crotch told me I’d failed. Her bare skin brushed against mine as she stepped inside without an explicit invitation.

  “Keaton.” I clung to the door for a moment before closing it. “You should return to your room.”

  The scraping of wood against the carpet piqued my interest. Turning around, I was greeted by the sight of Keaton bent over, revealing once again that nothing was underneath her dress as she slid a chair across the room to sit in the middle of the floor. She stood up and walked toward me like a woman on a mission. “Why do you think I came here? What do you think I want?”

  She reached down and fiddled with the waistband of my pants, wedging her finger between the elastic and rubbing her finger back and forth across the trim of my pubic hair.

  I clenched my fists tightly as they rested at my sides, fighting against the way she teased me, fucking with me to awaken what I’d put to bed.

  “Braedan? What do you think I want?” She raked her fingers down to the left, her short nails touching the start of my cock. She pushed her breasts against me, moving back and forth until I could feel her hard nipples through the dress, brushing against my chest.

  She grabbed my waist and shoved me against the door, only because I allowed her to, not because she had the strength. She grabbed my hands and pinned them up above my head. I showed her my willingness, putting my hands behind my head.

  Her light-coffee eyes settled on every piece of me: my arms, my chest, my fully hard cock tenting my pants. She moistened her thick lips, leaving the bottom one wet, and stepped backward with her hand pressed against my sternum, hovering partially over a barely apparent wound. My heart beat violently, her hand shuddered against the force.

  Her fingertips glided down my pecs and stopped at my abs, playing with the band again. “Why won’t you say and do anything? What are you waiting for? Are you going to let me do this to you?”

  “Yes,” I squa
wked.

  “Why? I know you liked it when I was tied up, I know you liked it when I was in pain. You loved watching me cry. Stop pretending you didn’t. Be you.”

  I inclined my head, touching my forehead to hers. “Go back to your room, Keaton.”

  “No.” Her eyes turned to slits, her lips pursed as she pushed her hand down underneath the band of my pants and grabbed ahold of my cock.

  I nearly lost it.

  She released me, leaving me wanting and briefly turned her regard toward the chair. With a hand on her hip she pointed to the seat behind her. “Sit.”

  I treaded toward the chair. She was with me at every step, walking behind me. Upon turning around, she placed her hands on my chest and pushed me down. Bending over, she pulled down the cotton drawstring pants and threw it across the room. She licked her lips again, driving me over the edge as she stared at my cock with desire setting her eyes aflame.

  I began to speak; she covered my mouth and shook her head vehemently. Her thighs enclosed me as she straddled my lap and grabbed my dick in her hand and began to stroke hard and fast between us.

  I moved up to touch her, wanting her to shift her hips and slide her down on me, she looked at my hands and shook her head again. With reluctance, I forced my palms to rest flat against the arms of the chair.

  She moved her hips, holding my gaze captive as she slid her wet lips across my shaft. She angled her body upward and slid down on me, swallowing me inside her tight, sopping wet, hot pussy.

  My eyes wanted to roll back, but I kept them on her. My inclination to touch her irked me again. I went to move my hands and she glared at me. Obeying to give her what she needed, I placed my hands back where they were.

  With her palm pressing against my mouth and her nails digging into my jaw, she slid upward and her walls tightened around the head. My fingertips dug into the arms of the chair so tightly, I aimed to tear it apart. She pushed down on my mouth until my head reclined back and I no longer had a prime view of her.

  “Don’t move. Don’t do anything,” she warned with hushed sounds across my neck. Her breath radiated across my skin, driving everything she did to me toward the point of unleashed containment.