by Amo Jones
He smirks, his other arm snaking around my waist to yank me into him. Then his mouth drops to my ear and I try to block out his scent. Sugar, spice, and leather only now mixed with a pang of liquid metal and sweat. “You just caused a scene, baby. I don’t know why you’re here, but now, you’re going to do exactly as you’re told.”
Then he bites my ear and stands back, his hand coming to mine and turning me around. He starts dragging me toward Bishop and The Kings. and I turn just in time to see a smug looking Madison. She’s such a little shit.
Nate points to a seat around the pool. “Stay there.”
I roll my eyes, annoyed that I came. But when my eyes look around the party, I count five guys with busted faces, maybe I’m not that annoyed for stopping his fighting.
Nate stands opposite me, talking to Jase and Saint. “Numb” from Rihanna starts playing in the background. His eyes come to mine, a smirk evident on his face.
I fucking hate him and his sexy stupid body, and his cocky grin. Even with blood all over him, he’s by far the hottest guy I have ever seen in my entire life. He brings the bottle to his lips, his eyes still on mine, They’re not frantic or angry anymore though, they’re weak and heavy. These are the exact eyes that got me into bed with him in the first place. And Madison and Tate too—probably.
Goddammit. Tipping his head back, he downs the rest of the whiskey, liquid dripping down the side of his face and falling onto his chest over the two large angel wings. Those are my favorite, I decide. I don’t know why he got them, but they’re my favorite. He’s still talking with the guys, but his eyes never stray far from me.
Madison and Tate both drop down beside me, and when Nate sees Madison, he licks his lip but moves straight for me. “Take me home?” he slurs, heavily intoxicated.
I give him a bored expression. “Sure.” Seriously over his shit.
His fingers wrap around mine and he pulls me up, his other arm hooking around my waist. He buries his head into the crook of my neck. “Mmm, you smell good.”
I shove him.
His tongue glides across my collarbone. “Fuck, Tillie,” he groans, exhaling against my flesh. “Why do you fuck me up?”
My body freezes as I try to calm my racing and erratic heart. He doesn’t mean anything he says, he’s just drunk. “You’re being an idiot,” I answer, shaking my head.
“Am I?” He snarls as his lips brush over my skin. I have to mentally talk myself out of his games as his hips slowly press into me, planting me to the spot.
“You ready?” I ask, taking a step backward. When I look at him, he’s smirking down at me, his lips glistening from the drink.
His eyes go over my shoulder, landing on someone behind me. He grabs my hand. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Once we’re out by the car, I have to shove him into the passenger seat, tucking his arm inside. I shut the door with a little more force than what is necessary.
“Tillie!” Madison comes running out of the house just as I’m about to open the door.
“Thanks for calling me.” I roll my eyes. “Not.”
Madison shuffles uncomfortably. “Listen, I really nee—”
“—Madison!” Bishop snaps at her from the front door.
Madison stills, and then looks at me pleadingly.
“What is it?” I probe, crossing my arms in front of myself.
She chews on her lips nervously and then plasters a fake smile on her face. “Nothing. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She turns, shoulder barging past Bishop, who is still watching me.
“Bye, Tillz.”
“Bye, B.” A flash of something falling over his face before it’s gone.
My door swings open. “Hurry up!”
I roll my eyes again, getting into the car. I crank the heat up and start driving us out of Brantley’s driveway.
“You mad?” Nate asks lazily, and I can hear the humor in his tone. Nate’s drunk voice is even more sexy than his normal voice.
“No, I’m not. Why were you fighting?”
I see his head turn away from me out of the corner of my eye. “Because I fucking hate what your eyes do to me.” He turns the radio on. I am Tillie Stuprum and I am confused as fuck with this guy’s mood swings. But slightly turned on.
Pulling into our driveway, we both get out and Nate starts doing the Connor McGregor walk as we head toward the pool house, laughing loudly when I shove him.
“You’re an idiot.”
He turns around in a flash, his face and chest pressing against mine. I stop, my flushed cheeks cloaked by the dark night. “That’s the second time you’ve called me an idiot, Tillie.”
I shove past him, annoyed with his up and down. “Probably won’t be the last, either.”
“Where’s Micaela?” he asks just as we tread up the stairs.
“Your mom texted me and told me she put her in her room.”
I yank the door open, seemingly pissed that I was dragged out of bed over him, but as soon as I swing it open, both of his hands slam it shut on either side of my head, caging me in. I can feel the heat radiating off of him from behind me.
“You act like I don’t affect you,” he whispers against the nape of my neck, the strong smell of whiskey whiffing through. “Like you don’t remember what it’s like…” His hand comes to my stomach, his fingers sprawling out. “To get fucked.” He tugs my body into him, and my ass hits between his legs.
Oh, he’s really doing this.
“Nate, you’re drunk. Go to your room.” I try to open the door again, but he won’t budge. “Nate.”
His arm snakes around my belly, and I turn in his grasp. Too close. We’re too close. His nose touches mine and his breath falls over my lips.
I look up at him. “Go to your room.”
“You don’t mean that.” He grins, his eyes crossing when they drop to my lips. The fact that he looks adorable right now is irrelevant, but it’s fact.
“I do, because you’ll wake up in the morning—”
His lips touch mine softly, not hard. There’s no eagerness to his movements, because he doesn’t need to. This is all Nate. He’s never desperate or needy, he hangs himself out as bait and dumb girls like me take it, unbeknownst about the poison that comes with that first taste. He is every girl’s wet dream, and he damn well knows it.
His lips glide over mine, and every single nerve that holds me together starts to slowly tremble.
“Stop talking, baby,” he whispers, and then softly pulls my bottom lip into his mouth.
Shit. Shit. Double fucking shit.
I can feel my resolve slowly slip away with every second that passes, and his mouth is on mine.
“Kiss me,” he whispers, the deep rumble of his chest shaking mine.
“I—” His tongue slips over mine and my legs give away.
He pulls me back up with one arm, using the other to reach around and yank the door open. He lifts me with the arm that’s around my waist and my legs instinctively fly around him.
Fuck it.
I kiss him back, my heart thrashing against my chest and my stomach flipping around like it’s been thrown in a blender. Our kiss doesn’t stop, and once we’re inside, he kicks the door closed with his foot, carrying me to the bed. He pushes me down, falling on top of me. In the back of my brain, I know this is a bad idea, when that part comes rearing to the surface, I push at his chest.
He growls at me.
“Don’t growl! I’m just saying, this isn’t a good idea. You wouldn’t want to do this if you were sober.”
He settles between my legs, bringing my other up to rest on his hip. “You sure about that?” he teases, grinding into me.
“Positive, since every other time that you’ve been sober up until this point you’ve been cold and very vocal with how you feel about me.”
His hand goes up my shirt and under my bra. He squeezes my nipple and rests his weight on his other arm. He’s looking directly down at me and I try hard not to bring my eyes to his but fail.
<
br /> He licks his lips, grinning. “I’m sober enough to put my dick in you, Tillie. Stop thinking too much into this.”
He starts rotating his hips into me and I bite down on my bottom lip to stop the moan from leaving my mouth. Then he leans up, grabs the band of my yoga pants and yanks them off.
“Nate…” I warn, but fail because his other hand covers my mouth.
“Shut up, Tillie. Stop fucking talking. I need you right now.”
Shit. He continues, his knuckles grazing over me.
“Nod if you want this.”
I do, I nod my head, arching my back. His fingers dip under my panties and he tears them off. I fist the sheets between my fingers, my back arching farther, and then his tongue presses against my clit and I lose it. He throws my leg over his shoulder and slips a finger inside of me.
“Nate, I—”
“Let go, baby. You taste so fucking good.” He growls against me and my hand comes to his head. I tear his cap off and toss it across the room, my fingers diving into his hair.
“Look at me, Tillie,” he murmurs from below. I forgot what he gets like in bed. “Now, baby.”
I inch up on my elbows, looking down at his face buried between my thighs. The shadows cut his jaw perfectly as he presses his whole tongue against me. I’m climbing, so close. “Ride my tongue, Tillie. Ride it like you ride on my dick.” I fall to the bed, my head tilting back as my orgasm rips through me in violent waves.
“Too easy, as usual,” he mocks, crawling up my body. “Can I trust the pill you’re on?”
I nod, heat flashing over my cheeks.
“Good.” He grips onto my hips and flips me onto my stomach. He slaps my ass hard and then wraps my hair around his fist, yanking my head back. Hovering over my body, he tilts my head to the side, sucking where my neck connects with my shoulder. I arch my back, pressing my ass into him, desperate to feel him. His finger slides inside of me from behind and I moan, my breathing coming in heavy.
He pulls out, bringing his finger to my mouth. “Suck.”
I wrap my lips around his finger, the sweet taste hitting me instantly, then he takes his finger away and grips onto my hips again. I feel him slide over my entrance and I’m basically panting for him now, my chest tight with need. I need to feel him everywhere—he sinks inside of me and I clench around his length instantly.
He smashes into me relentlessly, spewing dirty words. Sweat drops off my forehead as he pulls out and flips me over onto my back. He spreads my thighs wide and slides inside of me again. I have the perfect view from here, every muscle tensing as he pulls in and out slowly.
He licks his lips, looking down at me. He drops down onto his elbows and presses his pelvic bone into my clit, thrusting his cock inside of me relentlessly. “I’m—”
“Come, baby.” He sucks on my neck, biting down on it roughly. I let go, just as he stills and spills into me.
He rolls over, swiping the sweat from his forehead. “Well, shit, I’m sober now.”
I freeze, turning onto my side to watch him. “Was that a mistake.”
“Tillie.” He shakes his head and then glares at me. “The fuck would you say that for?”
My eyes drop to his chest. “Get up!”
“What?” He leans up on his elbows. “It’s fucking near three a.m. I’m not going anywhere.”
I sneer at him. “Get in the shower, Nate.”
He stumbles into the bathroom, obviously not as sober as he thought he was. As the minutes pass while he’s in there, it occurs to me that I will need one too now since…
When he’s out, the towel wrapped around his waist, I scoot into the bathroom and jump in the shower, quickly scrubbing my body. I watch as the water turns a murky burgundy color and try not to gag. He just fucked me with other people’s blood smeared on his chest.
Gross.
I get out, drying my hair. My eyes shoot around the small bathroom. Fuck. I forgot to bring extra clothes in here. I open the door and slip into the dark room, quickly grabbing a pair of panties from my top drawer and the first t-shirt I find.
“Come here,” he mumbles from my bed, his voice low.
I wince, and then make my way to my bed, slipping under the covers. He wraps his arm around my waist and yanks me into him. After a few minutes, we both fall asleep.
Tillie
“Wait!” Madison says, raising her hand to stop me from talking. She and Tate came over early this morning. “So you’re telling me that you guys slept together last night and then he left this morning?”
“Wow.” Tate rolls her eyes. “I’m so shocked….”
I don’t know why, but it annoys me that she said that. Like I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when it came to Nate, but it’s… well, it’s Nate.
I spoon some granola into my mouth and watch as Micaela grabs Madison’s mouth. “Yes, but like I said, this won’t change anything. I’m not naïve,” I glare at Tate.
She flips me off. “I love you too.” Chuckling and going back to her breakfast. She starts whining to Madison that she wants Micaela for cuddles.
“This is your fault!” I say around a mouthful, stabbing my spoon toward Madison.
Her eyes shoot to me in fear.
I clear my throat. “I was kidding…”
She relaxes and then laughs me off. “Oh.”
Why did she just act like that right now?
“Why did you just freeze up like that?” I ask, cutting straight to the point.
Madison gives me a soft smile. “Nothing. It’s just Bishop and I—nothing. Don’t worry. We can talk about it another time.”
I want to push her. I do. But I’m not a pusher, and she’s someone who is used to being pressed about everything, so in my head, the equation doesn’t seem justified.
“Well, at least school is done.” I roll my eyes. I can’t imagine having to tackle school right now. I mean, I left around the time I got pregnant and abducted, but for Madison and Tate at least they’re done.
“True!” Madison says, switching back on her charm. She looks to Tate before clearing her throat. “Ah, we’re going to check out NYU this week. I mean, I’ll be living with Bishop, but, did you want to come?”
I shake my head, already knowing my answer. “No. I won’t be doing the college thing.”
Madison chews on her bottom lip and I’ve come to notice this may be a nervous trait. The hell is going on with her?
“Hey.” I nod my head. “What were you going to tell me last night before Bishop came out?”
I watch as her attention slowly drifts off into unknown territory. “I don’t remember,” she mutters from behind her mug, giving me another smile. “Sorry, Tillz. I must have been so drunk. What are your plans today?”
Well, I don’t know, hopefully read a picture book that you know nothing about.
I put Micaela down for a nap and start cleaning up around the pool house. Nate made a mess last night, including smudging blood all over the sheets. I hate that I gave into him so easily last night, but at the same time, I know not to think too much into what happens with him and I. It just is what it is with him.
I toss the sheets into the wash in the main house and tell the maid to bring them back when they’re finished, which she agrees to do. It still feels weird bossing someone around to do something I could do since I was four years old, but whatever.
Sighing, I flop down onto the bed and take out Daemon’s book from under the mattress. I flip past the first two pages that I’ve already seen and go straight for CAPITULUM III. This image is strange. A simple drain with its lid slightly pushed off. Everything is smudged around it to make the grey blend with the lid. There are white words that are engraved into the lid. Perdita. I flip back to page one with the boy at the house and then to page two with the ice eyes.
Were these drawn on Perdita? Daemon was raised there, it would make sense. I flip the page again to CAPITULUM IV and see the numbers 446 shaded in the same grey pencil. The numbers take up the whole
page in block font. “That’s odd,” I murmur to myself, shuffling off my bed to grab my water bottle out of the fridge. The number 446 was our trailer park number. Total coincidence, I know, but it is still peculiar.
I flick the lid off my bottle, flipping back to the first page. There’s something about this book that has the gears inside my head turning. Why would Daemon do this? There has to be a reason. Daemon was eons ahead of his age. I sip my water, looking closely at the second page. Everything drifts to the back of my mind as my eyes connect with the blue ones peering back at me on the page. “Who are you…” My phone rings, scaring me out of my trance. I quickly shuffle back to the bed, tossing the book underneath and answering before it goes to voicemail.
“Hello?”
Silence.
I look down at my phone, seeing it’s an unknown caller. I bring it back to my ear. “Who is this?”
They hang up with a click and I squeeze the phone in my hand, my thoughts drifting back to what Nate said last night about strange callers.
The door opens, bringing me out of my frantic thoughts. I freeze when I see it’s Nate, because of course it is. Only he would barge in like he owns the place—which he actually does.
“Hey,” I say, my eyes going to his.
I can already see the malice all over his face, so when he comes straight up to me, picking me up from the ground and hooking my legs around his waist, I’m not all that surprised. Part of me is, though, because it’s starting to feel so much like it did when we first got together. Rekindled loves don’t have much of a success rate. The only kind that last a second round are the ones whose spark was volatile enough to burn and simmer perpetually. Did we have that? I’m not so sure.
He whispers into the crook of my neck. “I need you.” the simplicity of his words knock the doubt out of me. Yes, we did.
I whack him, my head tilting back as I contain my laugh. “You can’t just come in here and say I need you and expect me to just open my legs for you!”
He tilts his head in the adorable way he does and bites down on his bottom lip, his dimples sinking into both cheeks. “Really? Because I mean,” he squeezes my thighs—that are open. Chuckling, he puts me back down onto the ground. “Just kidding, Tillz, chill, fuck. You think too much into everything. I’m not fucking asking you to be my girl or anything.” Okay so maybe not.
