Perversion (Perversion Trilogy #1)

“Not even a little bit,” I tell him.

He gives me a look that says exactly what he knows I am. Liar.

“Fine, I’ll make you a deal,” he says. “One kiss. If you still want to go, you can go.” He leans in closer. He pushes a hair from my eyes and tucks it behind my ears, searching my eyes for an answer. “You’re not going to be able to lie your way through a kiss, Tricks.”

Wanna bet?

One kiss. One kiss and I can go. Grim will be nothing but a memory when I’m on the bus to freedom with Gabby next week. I won’t let him affect me. I can’t.

I shrug. “Sure, but I don’t see the po—” I start to say when Grim reaches over and hauls me onto his lap.

My legs straddle his strong thighs. He tangles his hands in my hair and pulls my face to his. Our lips crush together. Fuck. I knew it was going to be bad, and by bad, I mean…holy shit. It’s not just a kiss. The word alone does what’s happening a huge injustice. It’s something else. Something more.

It’s everything.

The kiss spreads from my mouth to the rest of my body. I feel it everywhere. I feel him everywhere. He opens his mouth, and my reaction is instinctual. I can’t help but to respond by opening my own. Our tongues meet, and it’s as if someone’s shot a gun off at the starting gate.

All bets are off. All lies temporarily forgotten.

The truth is before me, and it’s Grim and here and now.

Wetness pools in my panties, and I fight the urge to grind myself against his lap. Thunder claps overhead. Rain pours down on top of us. We claw at one another like two cats fighting in an alleyway. Angry and pent up and…fuck, he feels so good. My breasts are heavy with need and aching with a pain I didn’t know was possible. We are the only umbrellas we will ever need, and how I wish that were fucking true. I can’t make myself stop anymore, I rock against the hard length of his monstrous erection, wishing there were no clothes separating us.

“Fuck, Tricks. Yes,” he hisses. “You ever felt anything like this?” He groans into my mouth. “I haven’t. Never anything like this. Anything like you. It’s better than I’ve fucking imagined.”

“You’ve imagined?” I ask breathlessly as his mouth sucks and kisses down my neck.

“Since the alley. Before I knew it was even you. All I knew was this feeling. I tried to shove it off, but the rest of me didn’t exactly get the message. I thought of you a lot. At night. Stroking myself.”

He’s so hard beneath me. I’ve never felt anything like it. Never wanted to. But I can’t help the urge that comes over me to see it. Touch it.

Taste it.

“I’ve never…been kissed, or anything,” I reply hastily. “Just our accidental one. Only you.”

It’s only ever been you.

He holds my face in his hands. “I can tell you that they don’t feel like this. Not fucking EVER.” He pauses. “I still can’t believe it’s you.” He strokes his thumb over my bottom lip. “My Tricks,” he groans, before starting the kiss all over again.

This time we’re even more aggressive, pulling at each other’s hair and biting at one another’s lips. I wish our clothes barrier was the only barrier between us, but it’s not. There’s a much bigger and deadlier one.

My Tricks.

I suddenly feel sick. I feel like the traitor I am, but never signed up to be.

“I…I just can’t,” I say, pulling away and leaping off his lap.

“Tricks!” Grim calls, standing from the seat just as lightning strikes a power pole in the bay, causing a bright firework type explosion followed by a rain of sparks falling into the shiny black water.

Grim turn’s his head toward the bay. I don’t waste the distraction. I make a run for it. I’m out of the stadium and far down the footpath splashing through the mud. Rain soaks through my clothes. Thunder booms overhead and in my heart. I trip and fall face first into the mud, wishing it was a sink hole and would swallow me down into the earth. So, I wouldn’t have to feel this way. So, I wouldn’t have to run from the only person in the world I’ve ever connected with besides Gabby.

Grim’s booming voice rises above the thunder and rain, echoing all around me, surrounding me in his own anger and pain. “You can lie with your words, but your body tells the truth. You can’t fucking run from this, Tricks!”

“Yes, I can. I have to,” I whisper. “Or, so many people will die because of me.”

The pain in my heart makes my vision blur. I lift myself from the mud and choke back sobs as I run from what most would consider the most frightening man on the planet. But to me. He’s Tristan. Grim. I’m not running from him. I’m running from war. From needless bloodshed. I’m running from the dangerous feeling I get when I’m around him. The one that makes me feel like I’m home for the first time in my life.

As I’ve thought before, telling Grim I’m with Los Muertos only has two possible outcomes. One, is that he kills me because of who I am and starts another war. Two, is that he fights for me, and starts another war.

I should have told him before he figured out who I was. Then, he could have killed me, sparing me from the surge of pain that hits me like a runaway train.

Because now I know he’d fight for me, and that somehow makes it all so much worse.

I run as fast as I can, stumbling through the mud. In the process, I lose my shoes. I stop for only a second to retrieve them from the muck. When they’re finally free, I cradle them in one arm, running barefoot the entire way back to my prison. All the while telling myself the biggest lie I’ve ever told. I try and try, but can’t even begin to make myself believe this one. The one that’s crushing me, from the inside out.

You don’t really love him.





Eighteen





"Tell us, Grim. Why do you have us all gathered here today?" Marco asks, leaning back in his chair placing his feet up on the table. His elbows in the air with his hands folded behind his head.

The guy makes my skin crawl. Always has. I know Marco was too young at the time to be personally responsible for my mother’s death, but I’m almost positive he was behind Digger’s. I brush off the thoughts of revenge and try to focus on the business at hand while also trying not to think of the way Emma Jean moved on my lap, pushing herself against me, her tits rubbing my chest. The heat from her… I make myself focus.

"As you know, our truce has terms,” I start. “One of those terms is that any new ventures have to be fully disclosed to both the Immortals and Los Muertos.”

Margaret nods from across the table, leaning to the side like the elegant gangster she is.

Marco sits up straight and takes interest. He moves the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other.

“Bedlam will be opening up a strip club-slash-brothel on the reservation. We ain't gonna be running girls on the street. It's going to be a somewhat legitimate business venture that won’t interfere with operations from either of your organizations."

“Where you getting the girls?” Margaret asks.

“We're putting out feelers for those interested who live in the area and want to earn. Marci will be interviewing and running the day-to-day operations. We will only take on girls who don't have affiliations with either gang or affiliations exclusively with Bedlam.”

Margaret folds her hands on the table. "You know that the Immortals don't run girls. Not officially, anyway. We like to keep our business to the highways and imports/exports. I got no problem with you opening your place on the res. But I do have a favor to ask in return for The Immortals signing off on this.”

“What do you have in mind?"