THE DEVIL’S BRIDE

by April Lust

  He’s softly pumping me, sliding so slickly between my folds that push and pull at his thickness.

  “Tell me you love me, Vivian.”

  “I love you, Landon.”

  He suddenly pounds me hard and fast. “I’m going to come again, Vivian, take it. Take my seed.”

  My orgasm is mind-blowing as he bursts inside me. I wait for him to reciprocate the words I have just said.

  But he doesn’t.

  I turn to face him, feeling his cock slip out of my body.

  “Do you love me, Landon?” I ask in the sudden quiet. The only sound I can hear besides my own heart thudding is the rushing of the water against the tile.

  He just looks at me.

  And what I hear next is enough to break my whole world apart.

  Chapter 12

  Vivian

  Blood rushes to my face as I stare at Landon. His blonde hair looks almost dark from the water of the shower and his expression is unreadable. My heart skips a beat in my chest and despite the warm water running all over my body, I feel a sudden chill in the air of the bathroom.

  “Do you love me?” I ask again, biting my lip and glancing up at Landon. The look in his blue eyes makes me want to curl up in a ball and lie on the floor of the shower until I drown.

  Landon sighs. He rakes a hand through his soaked hair, pushing it away from his face. His lips are swollen from all the kissing we’ve been doing, and there’s a faint but unmistakable hickey on the side of his neck, just beneath the layers of blonde stubble.

  “Landon,” I say slowly. The words seem to hang in the foggy and damp air. “Do you love me?”

  Landon stares deeply into my eyes. His blue eyes radiate emotion, but the longer he stares, the more afraid and panicked I feel. Suddenly, I’m wishing that I’d never asked.

  I realize that I don’t even want to know the answer.

  “Forget it,” I say softly, pushing past him and stumbling out of the shower. The cold air in the bathroom makes me shiver and I wrap my arms around my body, covering my nakedness. Suddenly, being exposed is making me feel worse.

  Every muscle, every cell in my body wants Landon to follow me. I can practically feel the hot, heavy touch of his hand against my shoulder as I grab a plush towel from the wall and wrap myself up. Please, Landon, come after me, I think as I will myself to walk out of the bathroom.

  Tears sting my eyes as I walk enter bedroom. My clothes are scattered on the floor, and I sniffle as I step over them and walk towards the dresser. I still don’t have a ton of stuff here at the hideout which just makes it feel like less of a home than ever.

  My body’s still tingling from the incredible sex but it doesn’t feel good anymore—there’s a sense of dread mingling with the leftover pleasure and arousal. My thighs are slick with moisture, but it just makes me feel wanton, like I acted too quickly. I know I shouldn’t have given in to the passionate urges I felt around Landon.

  I was so stupid, I think, staring at myself in the mirror. My hair is all mussed and tangled, and I look years younger than I actually am—like a kid, still in high school.

  The sound of Landon’s footsteps treading heavily across the floor is enough to make me cringe.

  “What?” Landon’s voice is sharp and edged. He shakes his blonde hair free of water like a dog. “What are you staring at me for?”

  My jaw drops. “Do I really have to tell you?” I ask quietly. My voice is shaking with emotion. “Are you serious right now?”

  Landon sighs again. “Look, Vivian—“

  “I don’t care,” I say hotly. “Do you love me? Are you just using me? What the hell is going on, Landon? Why can’t you answer me like a real man?”

  Landon glares at me and I wince, knowing my last comment was a step too far.

  “Vivian, this is complicated,” Landon says after a long pause. “This isn’t just about you and me. There are other people we have to think of here.”

  “Like my father?”

  Landon doesn’t reply and I feel a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Landon, come on,” I say loudly, crossing the room and grabbing a clean sweater from the top of my bag. When I drop my bath towel, I half expect Landon to watch. But instead, he turns around, covering his eyes. Somehow, that just makes me feel worse.

  “What do you want me to say, Vivian? That I love you?”

  I blink back tears. “Yes,” I whisper softly. “You demanded to hear the truth from me, Landon. And I was honest with you. You can’t even do me the same courtesy?” The words hurt, like my throat is raw. I sniffle, dangerously close to crying for real. I wish I knew why he was treating me like this–like there was something to be ashamed of and we’d done something horrible.

  I watch silently as he tosses his own towel on the floor. His wet skin gleams in the low light of the room, and I feel an unmistakable shudder of lust ripple through my body whenever he moves. He dresses in a clean pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that hugs his muscular torso. When he turns and looks at me, my mouth goes dry.

  I hate that I have such a reaction to him. It’s not fair–I should be able to be around him normally, without freaking out like some crazy little weirdo. The tension in the bedroom is so thick that I could slice it with that knife Landon always keeps on his belt.

  I wish this had never happened. I wish my life was back to normal and I was still going to school and studying and tutoring. I wish that I’d never learned the secrets of life as a member of Blacktop Chaos, that I’d never even exchanged a word with Landon Lockhart. He’s dangerous, but not for the reasons I’d previously thought.

  I didn’t feel like I was in danger of being kidnapped anymore. Now, the only danger I was worried about was getting my heart broken.

  “Vivian, look,” Landon said loudly. “Don’t do this.” He stares at me, his blue eyes pleading with me to listen. I wish that his words didn’t have such a powerful effect on me, but I can’t deny how good it feels when he talks to me. It scares me so deeply—how the hell am I supposed to deal when he leaves for good?

  I shake my head sadly. “Do what, Landon?”

  “Make a big deal out of this,” Landon says slowly. “Just try to stay calm.”

  Anger explodes in my chest and I ball my hands into fists, shoving them deep in the pockets of my sweater.

  “Shut up,” I growl, hissing through clenched teeth. “Shut up, Landon! You begged me to tell you the truth, and you can’t even fucking admit your own feelings. You’re a coward!” Angry tears sting my eyes and I know I should stop but I can’t. Yelling feels more cathartic than anything I’ve done so far, and the look on Landon’s face is worth it.

  “Vivian, stop—“

  “No!” I scream loudly. “You don’t get to tell me what to do!” I shake my head, tears streaming down my hot cheeks. “You don’t get to make these decisions just by yourself, Landon. There’s something going on between us,” I add, gesturing wildly between myself and Landon’s body. “And if you can’t own up to that, then you don’t deserve to fall in love!”

  Landon stares at me, wide-eyed, like I’ve just slapped him across the face. Instantly, I regret saying what I did. But I can’t take it back–the words are hanging in the air, a foul reminder of the anger that’s still brewing in my belly.

  “Vivian, calm down,” Landon says. He steps closer and reaches towards me, but before he can close the distance between us, I leap backwards. I know I couldn’t handle him touching me now. The slightest stroke or caress from his muscular hands would be enough to burn my skin.

  “No,” I snarl. I’m tempted to tell him that I hate him. “Landon, why did you do this to me?”

  “We can’t ever be together,” Landon spits back. For a moment, I’m caught off guard by his visceral anger. “Vivian, you need to get it through your thick skull. I’m a member of Blacktop Chaos. I can’t wait around and be your boyfriend.”

  He growls on the last word, like the word ‘boyfriend’ is the most repulsive
term in the English language. Inside my chest, my heart withers and shrivels into a tiny ball.

  “You’re lying,” I say softly, my lip quivering with fear. The thing is, I don’t think he’s lying at all. I think he’s being honest with me, and I was just too stupid to see it until now.

  Landon shakes his head. He grabs his towel off the floor, then stomps into the bathroom.

  “I know you don’t mean that!” I yell loudly after him. “I know you wouldn’t have said all that shit if you didn’t mean it, Landon.”

  There’s no reply. The lump in my throat swells to an unbearable size, and I throw myself down on the bed as the sobs start up again.

  I hate him, I think as I pound the bed with my fists. I hate him so much!

  If only that were true.

  Deep down, I’m more afraid than ever. I know that despite what just happened, I can’t leave the hideout. Between Landon and my dad, I’ll be in a world of trouble if I even think about it. But I can’t stay here, either. I’m hurting so badly, and all I want is to go back home to Lindsay and to my normal life as a college student.

  I’m angry, too. I’m angrier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. As much as I want to believe that Landon would never use a woman the way he used me, I’m not sure that’s the truth. If anything, I was the stupid one. I fell for his roguish good looks. I fell for the way he spoke to me with equal parts tenderness and roughness.

  I may be in college, but I feel stupider than ever. This is the kind of thing that most girls learn when they’re in high school. It’s the kind of thing that I was never allowed to experience on my own. For as tough as my dad is, he never let me have a normal life. I wasn’t really allowed to date. For the most part, I didn’t mind so much. I didn’t exactly rebel against the rules.

  But now I know that Dad did me a disservice by not letting me get my heart broken. If I’d had some experience with men, I probably would have seen Landon’s tricks coming a mile away.

  The worst part is how my body feels. Despite my anger and heartbreak, my skin is still tingling because of Landon’s touch. My wet hair drips beads of water down the back of my neck, making me shiver. Whenever I close my eyes, I’m assaulted with images of myself and Landon, tangled up in the shower, fucking passionately.

  The mental image of the two of us kissing, our tongues entwined, is enough to make me start crying all over again.

  “I hate him,” I mumble into the pillows of the bed. It’s not even late, but I don’t want to face Landon again.

  The rest of the hideout is silent. Part of me is dying to climb out of bed and go see what Landon is doing, if only to prove to myself that he’s hurting, too. But the other part of me wants Landon to come crawling in here on his knees, begging for me to forgive him. My heart hardens as I think about what that would look like–the mighty Landon Lockhart, brought low by a little girl.

  As much as I want him to come in here and ask forgiveness, as much as I want to hear Landon tell me that he loves me, I know it’s not going to happen. Each passing second only seems to put more distance between us, and my chest aches like someone’s ripped my ribs open and yanked out my heart.

  Eventually, I cry myself to sleep.

  Chapter 13

  Vivian

  My dreams are wild. Landon is in every single one of them. No matter what I do, I can’t get away from his sculpted, perfect face. In one dream, we’re on the back of his bike, driving frantically along the lip of a cliff. I’m afraid–my hands are wrapped around Landon’s muscular body and I’m holding him close. But no matter how loudly I scream, it’s not enough for Landon to realize that I’m scared. I know that it’s only a matter of time before the rock below us crumbles and Landon’s bike tumbles into the sea. But still, Landon won’t turn away. The dream ends in a chilling panic with us falling through the air, falling closer and closer to the valley below with terrifying speed.

  The next dream is even worse. Landon and I are sitting around the table with the other members of Blacktop Chaos. All of the men, including Landon, are talking about what it’s like to fuck a new woman for the first time. Having to listen to Landon talk about another woman is upsetting, but no matter how much I cry out or ask him to stop, he doesn’t listen to me. Finally, when I get up from my chair and walk over to him, it’s like I’m not even in the room. By the end of the dream, I’m on my hands and knees, begging for Landon to hear me out. But it’s like I don’t exist at all. I’m just a spirit or a figment of my own imagination.

  When I wake up, I’m soaked to the bone with perspiration. My sweater is damp, and clings to my skin like I’ve been out in the middle of a rainstorm. My hair is soaked too. It’s almost like it never dried. I lick my dry lips, darting my tongue out of my mouth.

  There’s laughter and voices coming from the other room. For a moment, I don’t remember everything that happened with Landon before I fell asleep. But then the realization dawns on me and my chest feels weak once more. He doesn’t love me, I think as a lump swells in my throat. He doesn’t love me, and he never will.

  I’m angry that Landon’s invited people over. Even though I know I can’t expect kindness from him, I feel slighted that he’s already forgotten about hurting me.

  The least he could do is respect that I’m heartbroken right now, I think angrily as I climb out of bed. Turning on the lights in the bedroom brings an unwelcome rush of pain to my head. Clapping my hand to my forehead, I stumble backwards and fall down on the bed with a gasp.

  I’m a fucking mess.

  The laughter and voices continue. Irritatingly enough, it sounds like there’s more than one person visiting Landon. After stewing in my own anger for a few moments, I stand up and walk over to the dresser. Yanking a brush through the snarls of my wet hair doesn’t do much for my appearance. If anything, I look worse than before. I toss my wet sweater on the floor and pull on a clean shirt, one of the only clean ones that I have left. Paired with jeans, I look like a school kid.

  As much as I’d like to curl back up in bed and sleep, I can’t ignore the sounds coming from the other room. And my stomach is growling.

  I hate that I’m hungry. It seems offensive for my body to betray me at a time like this. We’re supposed to be heartbroken, I think as I glare at my reflection in the mirror. This is no time to want food. But my stomach doesn’t listen.

  I know I can’t hide in my room forever. At some point, I’m going to have to face Landon again. Before I yank the door open, I plaster a grin on my face. I need to look like I’m having fun, or at least, look like I’ve somehow managed to forget about this morning.

  “Hey,” Landon says when I open the door. He’s smiling and his blue eyes are crinkled with laughter. Cigarette smoke wafts through the room, making my eyes sting.

  For a dreadful moment, I feel like I’m going to cry again.

  “Hey,” I manage to reply, trying to keep my voice as casual and calm as possible.

  “Hey, girl!” The voice belongs to Robin. She stands up from one of the couches and walks over to me. Before I can stop her, she pulls me into a tight hug. The human contact feels so good. I almost want to sink against her comforting, reassuring, older body.

  “Hey,” I say. “How are you?”

  Robin pulls away and chuckles. “I’m fine,” she says. “We just came over to hang out with Landon.” She frowns as she examines my face more closely than before. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

  I force a yawn. “I just woke up,” I say.

  “Sorry if we woke you,” Robin replies. She smiles guiltily. “Come get a drink with me?”

  I glance over my shoulder at Landon and Blade. They’re poring over a book of CDs, not even looking up. My heart hardens when I watch the easy way Landon laughs.

  It’s like this morning never even happened. We’ve already gone back to being strangers.

  “Sure,” I tell Robin. She jerks her head towards the kitchen and reluctantly, I follow her. As we walk past Landon and Blade, Landon gives no
sign whatsoever that he knows I’m in the room.

  In the kitchen, I pull open the fridge and hand Robin a cold beer. For a moment, I think about getting a soda. But something in me wants more than just sugar and bubbles, so I grab a beer for myself. I try to pop the bottle open on the counter the way that I saw Landon do it, but my hands are clumsy and the bottle slip from my hands.

  Thankfully, Robin reaches down and grabs it with lightning-fast reflexes. She smiles wryly as she twists her fingers around the cap and pops it off with ease. My cheeks burn bright red.

  “Screw top,” Robin says dryly. She hands me the bottle and we clink them together before drinking. The beer tastes sour, yeasty, and disgusting to me as I’m not used to it. But the feeling of alcohol flowing across my tongue is satisfying, and I close my eyes and tilt the bottle back, drinking until I feel light-headed.