Something cruel kicked through my veins.
We kissed in the elevator. And the hall. And on the bureau, where I stripped her pants off and she unzipped mine. Half-clothed, my cock hot in my hand. There was enough light from the shining skyscrapers and the lingering snow to see my scars, my seams, my imperfections. But she wrapped her legs around me, brought herself against the head, and I gave it to her, hard. We both bared our teeth, the relief of it also an anguish. I’d wanted this so badly. Since the first night we fought, our bodies falling into natural rhythm, violent grace. I slid inside and watched her hold me as I withdrew. Deeper each time, her wetness gleaming higher on my cock, until she stopped pulling me in hungrily and instead went soft, submitting. Let me fuck her. Let me fill her. She clutched my ear to her mouth and whispered, “Does it feel good?” and I answered by thrusting deeper, our hips touching, my abs tight and my thighs braced and every bit of strength in me surging to one point. I didn’t feel the packer pressing on my real dick anymore. In my head, it was all me. All one whole. Just a boy fucking the shit out of a girl. Tamsin cried out as I hammered her and a small, vile part of me hoped it hurt. For what she did to Ingrid. For what she was doing to me. The first girl I fucking trusted, a liar. Betrayer. But when she came she held me deep, clawed my back, our movements aligned so tightly I couldn’t tell them apart anymore. She rode me a little longer, grimacing but not stopping, and I couldn’t look at her face without my heart going liquid. I couldn’t hurt her, not outside the bounds of mutual consent. Whatever monster I was, it was not that kind. So I kept fucking her, tenderly, till the last aftershock faded and she went still in my arms.
We held each other, our skin polished with moonlit sweat. It felt like one unbroken act, from the moment she pulled the gun on Ingrid to this. One long, violent fuck.
Tamsin stroked my face. Shadows moved over those violet lips.
“Are you all right?” she said.
It was always this way. I cracked my rib cage open only to allow venom into my heart.
I said nothing.
“Lovely boy. You look so sad.”
She kissed my face, my mouth. Pushed me to the bed and held me down, her body light on mine. Not long later we began again, insatiable.
It felt so real. From a distance, it would look just like the real thing.
A boy and a girl, falling in love.
But all of this was mere illusion. Like me.
———
For days I kept her busy. At her side, always. Not a moment to herself. Most of that time we touched, savaged each other, got off fast and rough and went back at it before our nerves had stopped buzzing. Later we wandered through the night-cloaked city, two restless ghosts. Drifting in and out of dark alleys, phantoms fading into the snow. I watched Umbra from afar and remembered a life that now seemed like someone else’s. Somewhere Adam was walking free while I was in exile. It made my marrow seethe. Made me want to annihilate something, someone. That urge twisted into libido and Tam let me shove her up against an alley wall, her hands braced on the brick and the lights from passing cars mixing on our skin, moon silver, electric blood red. When she came I clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling her moans. Maybe I pressed harder than I needed to. It was only a matter of time until we parted. Until Black Iris made their next move against me.
If I had to face them all myself, I would.
I thought about telling Ellis to skip town. Miss this showdown. But that would tip my hand.
No. It didn’t have to be like that. No one else needed to get hurt.
If Black Iris wanted to drag my carcass through their sordid little underworld, so be it.
As long as they let the girls I loved go.
———
“There’s something I must do today,” Tamsin said.
Her words filled me with dread. I sat on her hotel bed, listening to the shower hiss. She was in the middle of undressing.
Tam knew how to play a man. But I had eighteen years of not being utterly enslaved to my dick, and I knew how to avert my eyes.
“I’ll go with you.”
“It’s a solo op, love.”
If I pushed too hard, I’d give myself away. So I said, “Leaving me alone all day? I’ll miss you.”
She shrugged out of her tee. Bra and panties only, bright white. She sauntered toward the bed, touched my face with her nails, lightly. Her mouth hovered over mine. When the nails dragged I thought of tiny hooks.
“Join me in the shower,” she said.
My whole lower body went tight, lifted toward her, but I said, “Got some errands to run, actually. Will you miss me?”
She kissed me, more a collision of lips than a kiss. That iron resolve in me melted, another hardness taking its place.
Then she pulled back, smiling. “Does that answer your question, Mr. Grant?”
“Sort of, Ms. Baylor. If you could just clarify some of your points—”
She glided into the bathroom with a laugh.