“You were saying something?” He sighs, glancing down at me.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out but a sad sigh. “Can we be civil from now on?” He looks away, and I try to catch his eye, but I have to tip his chin in my direction so he’s facing me. He looks like he’s been shot, and my stomach crumples up. “I just don’t want us to go at it every time we see each other.” I find myself rubbing his chin, but I find the motion too much for this thing that we are and drop my hand. He looks hurt for a split second, then emotionless. “We’re both moving our separate ways. It’ll only be mature and healthy if we…maybe stay out of each other’s way, right?”
He looks away, jaw tight. “No.”
My heart clenches. “No?” I breathe.
He looks at me, searches my face, then mutters, “No.”
I step back as he comes down from the chair and storms into the bathroom. I stand, dumbfounded by his never-ending immaturity, and chase after him. I hear the water running and find him standing in the shower through the curtain. I stare at his silhouette and feel myself drool, but then I remember why I came in here and snap out of it.
“Grey, will you just hear me out?” I snap.
“Lalalala,” he begins singing, trying to tune me out.
Angered he won’t even listen to me, I take it a step further and rip the curtain back. I need him to understand that I cannot live like this, with him hating me so much. It burns me inside every day knowing that he just will not let me live without feeling like I’m drowning, literally drowning in regret.
I step inside, and he whips around, flabbergasted and cheeks pink.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he screams, but I can’t take the screaming anymore.
I step forward, slapping my hand on his mouth, taking a step forward; he takes one backward. “I can’t take it anymore, Grey. This…this all-black, all-consuming thing in me, it’s eating me alive. Please, just—just do me one favor and help me silence it.” I am exasperated, my voice barely drowned out by the pounding water. It soaks his clothes and makes my hair stick to my face, but I couldn’t care less as long as I get this fixed, us fixed.
He doesn’t say anything, maybe because my hand is still covering his mouth. Our eyes are locked, skin pruning as we just stare at each other. I am trying so hard not to look down. But I can feel him against me, hard and soaked. He’s taken a step closer, and I suck in a breath, peering up at him as he towers over me. His eyes are glued to my chest and his eyes darken. I feel my breath catch when I realize my breasts are plastered down by the rushing water…he takes his full lower lip into his mouth, and I can see him fighting himself.
Slowly, he raises his hand and removes mine from his. His thumb rubs my wrist, and we both watch as he ignites a rumbling, greedy flame in my gut that rises from within me. Then our eyes meet, and everything slows down—the world, my heart, and everything in between.
And in one swift motion, I am pinned to the tiled wall and my legs are wrapped around him and his mouth is on my neck.
“I’ll gladly help you silence it…” His voice is a mere growl, and I gasp as his hand dives into the soaking sweat pants.
Chapter Forty-Four
Grey
She tastes better than ever, like vanilla spice and all things so fucking good. Her tongue dances with mine as I pin her to the wall. Underneath my palms, I can feel her stomach is covered in goosebumps through the thin shirt. I kiss her harder, desperate, needy, greedy for more. Our mouths move fast, and our chests are flush and heavy, panting rapidly. Sucking and exhaling air, stealing and taking from each other. I need to taste her soul and devour it all in one go. I need to feel her tender flesh in the closest way possible as I am one with her. She moans, and it is the most enticing sound ever.
“Fuck,” I groan into her mouth, and she moans again.
I love the way she tugs on my hair, the way she kisses me back with the same ferocity, like she’s needed this for months, and without it, she hasn’t been able to breathe. But what she doesn’t know is I’ve been feeling that same way every single second of every single day. I’ve been craving her supple lips, sweet like honey, and her tongue tangy like spice. I’ve been dreaming over the way her body is so small compared to mine, like she can fit in my palm as I gobble her up with my kisses. I have been ever-so-hungry just to get a whiff of her intoxicating smell I usually got so high off of.
She was my drug, and I could never quit her…until I left because of my fucking shot pride.
She mumbles something, but caught up in my head, I don’t catch anything.
“I need you, Grey,” she grumbles again, throwing her head against the tiles, gripping my shoulders hard.
I nod subtly and nip at her skin, making her curse and moan my name. “Then have me,” I say, my voice low as I plunge myself into her. “Holy fuck.” I curse through gritted teeth, and she screams. She is so…“Fuck!” I curse as she tightens her feet around me, visibly trying to get used to me again. Fuck, was she always this goddamn tight? I feel like I’m going to come right now on the spot. That’d be very embarrassing, but holy fuck, she’s never felt this damn good before. She has, but fuck! It’s like it’s multiplied by one million. I know now that I won’t fucking last with her.
“You are so…fucking—damn it, Grey,” she hisses, biting so hard on her lip she draws a little bit of blood. It’s such a goddamn turn on knowing that she’s just as frustrated as me. “Okay, go now.”
“Are you—?” I begin, nervous I might hurt her. Hell, I might hurt my damn self.
She cups my neck, nails digging into my skin, and pushes herself down, making us both curse. She presses her forehead to mine and whispers hoarsely, “Fuck me, Grey.”
Gladly.
I move out of her slowly…wait a couple of seconds, then plunge into her. She makes a strangled moan, and I curse beneath my breath. I do it again and again until she’s a panting mess and I am able to actually move in and out of her. I grab the shirt clinging to her skin and rip it off, flinging it away somewhere. I curl a hand around her neck and squeeze gently; she takes my thumb in her mouth, and I almost fucking come on the spot as she sucks, eyes fluttering back in her head.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight, but shit if you don’t feel amazing,” I rasp, and she moans as she bites my thumb’s pad. I grip a tad tighter, and she moans so fucking loud, I feel myself spazz inside of her. I thrust harder and deeper, hitting a spot that makes her scream and cry my name like she’s lost her mind. And boy, do I love to be the one that took it from her.
“Grey, p-please,” she stutters.
“Grey, what? Huh?” I push my forehead into hers and pick up the speed, pounding into her mercilessly now. “Fuck you harder, until you can’t see straight? Fuck you faster, ‘til you’re begging on your knees for more?”
Her cheeks puff out, and she’s biting her bleeding lip. “Fuck, yes—please! Grey, more, give me more,” she begs, tears pricking her eyes. She tries to close them, but I thrust harder than before, and she opens her beautiful blue eyes, and her eyes glance at my lips the same time I do the same thing.
I lean forward and capture her lips in mine. The blood from her lip tastes sweet, yet metallic, and I dig my fingers into her neck as I kiss her with every fiber in my being. I swallow it all and feel like her heart is down for the ride as she breathes my name in relief and her shoulders grow light as she wraps her arms around me tightly. My lungs are on fire, and my heart is beating so fucking fast I can barely move. But hearing her moan and feeling her gently caress the ends of my hair and mold her hips to match my strides, I am only more motivated to move faster, love deeper.
I explore every inch of her mouth, and she does the same with mine, as if this is the last time we’ll ever get the chance, because maybe it is. Maybe she won’t take me back and maybe I won’t be able to get over this tough guy bravado. Maybe I won’t be able to feel her skin thrumming like a drum underneath me as I fuck her. Maybe I won’t be able to listen to the divin
e sound of her screaming my name. Maybe I won’t be able to see blood dotted on her lips from how hard she bites them or how her eyes roll into the back of her head. Maybe I won’t experience this ever again…That thought drives me to fuck her harder and harder until I can see stars explode behind my eyes and my muscles tighten.
“Fuck, princesa, I’m gonna—” I groan, my throat scratchy and hoarse.
“Me too—” she begins to say, but then I remember something.
“Fuck,” I groan.
“W-what?” she squeaks.
“No condom.” I feel so fucking defeated as I begin to slow down and pull out, though it may already be too fucking late.
“I’ll take a morning after pill,” she promises and drags her nails down my back. “Keep going, please, I’m so close,” she whines, and I nod, glad I can finish what I started.
I begin to thrust faster again, and she moans in relief, then goes back to screaming my name and scratching my back. I hiss but secretly love the way she is forever marring my skin with her nails. She’s leaving behind a mark that she was here, that I was fucking her. And I want to mark her right back.
I clamp my mouth on her neck and begin sucking and licking and swirling and grazing my teeth against her erratic skin. I can practically feel her blood growing hotter with each swipe of my tongue and each hard thrust that hits her G-spot each fucking time. I pull back and smirk at my creation, a masterpiece really, of me marking my territory, even if I don’t feel like playing around with it beyond this moment.
“Fuck, I’m—I’m coming,” she exclaims, and I chuckle as I go at it, thrusting harder, faster, claiming, torturing.
“That’s right, princesa. Ven por mí,” I groan in her ear then suck on her earlobe. (Come for me.)
Whether it is my lips on her heated skin or my words, she comes. And she comes hard. Shaking, and writhing, and screaming my name, and dragging her nails down my back, probably drawing blood. I soak it all up and feel myself come undone too, but I need her lips on mine. I need to swallow her breaths, and I desire to taste her soul quivering on the tip of her tongue.
“Fuck,” I groan, kissing feverishly.
I continue thrusting, and she continues screaming for what feels like forever, until I finally plunge into her one last time. We both jolt and cry into each other’s mouth. The water pounding our bodies and hitting the floor mixed with our heavy panting fill the bathroom. I close my eyes and try to catch my breath, tracing my finger over the curve of her upper lip and tugging as she sighs in euphoria.
“Grey, I still lov—” she begins, voice raspy.
I pull back and shake my head, breathing ragged, but voice hard and sure. “This doesn’t change anything.”
She blinks rapidly, taken aback. “W-what?”
“You heard me,” I tell her through gritted teeth. I pull out of her, and she nearly buckles. I ignore her stare as I begin to apply body wash to my sweaty body. “This—that doesn’t change anything.”
Silence fills the void and every crack in the world.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she finally belts out, hitting my back.
I roll my eyes and turn around before her small hands can hit me again. “I am not kidding one bit, princess…This doesn’t change what you did or how much I loathe you.” I push her hands away and shrug like this means nothing. “Remember to close the door on your way out.”
I watch as her entire soul breaks and tears leak out of her bulgy, blue eyes. I can practically hear her heart break tenfold. The way she’s shaking is slowly breaking me, so I look away. But she walks up to me, nearly slipping on the running water, and pushes me.
“You are such a fucking asshole! I’m still in fucking love with you, I’ve apologized—I’ve done everything I possibly could. I want us to at least be civil, but you’re not human enough for that! You’re a fucking monster! You fuck me then act like it doesn’t mean anything?”
I lock my jaw together and shrug again. “Is it supposed to? It was just a quick fuck.”
Her eyes widen and her jaw drops, tears falling faster each second. “I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you!” She begins hitting me, and I let her. She hits and hits and hits and screams and screams. “I fucking hate you! You are—ugh!” she screams at the top of her lungs. “Fuck you!”
“You just did.” I smirk.
Her eyes widen even more, and she shouts, shaking her hands. “I—I fucking hate you so goddamn much!”
I stay quiet as she gets out and wraps a towel around her body, tucking it so it doesn’t fall down. She begins to leave, but then she stops at the door, literally shaking with anger. She whips around and points a finger at me and opens her mouth, but no words come out. She tries until she is racked with sobs. My heart tugs, and I nearly reach out to her, but she just cries and shakes her head.
“What? Cat got your tongue?” I smile, cocking my head to the right.
That ignites the word flow that completely kills me from the inside out.
“I wish I’d never fucking met you…because Grey.” She hardens her eyes and rasps, “You’re not capable, nor do you deserve love.”
And without another word, she continues out the door, and I don’t realize I’ve fallen to my knees until I hear the front door slam shut.
***
Liv
“Hey, where have you—oh my God, are you okay?” Mason says as he comes down the stairs.
I drop to the floor, my limbs too weak to keep me upright. My body is shutting down on me; I’ve taken…I think I’ve taken a little too many anti-depressant pills while driving.
“I fucked up, Mase. I really…” My tongue is too dry. “I really fucked up.” My heart is heavy, and my skin is clammy. “I fucked u…”
“Shhh…oh my God! Louise! Charlotte! Someone, help! It’s okay, I’m calling an ambulance.”
I fall to the rhythm of my heartbeat slowing down and think of how much I fucked up…with Grey, with breathing, with every fucking thing. I fucked up big time, and I can never be repaired.
Chapter Forty-Five
Grey
Hours later, I am angrily whacking a punching bag. Mostly everyone is out, either taking a break or taking runs, since it is so nice out. After all I’ve gone through, you’d think the best thing for me is to do the same. To take a lap or two, catch a breeze, hell catch a wave—but I am too fucking stupid to do something for my own benefit. I’d rather suffer and be pounded with guilt harder than I am hitting this fucking bag. All because of this ugly, black, pent-up anger that has swelled underneath my skin. It’s branching out, trying to control me, but I can’t let it. And it is so fucking hard not to give in.
With each punch, I imagine it’s my face I am hitting. I wish that I could knock myself out, make myself bleed and bruise, if it’s what it will take to make myself not be a fucking dumbass. I had the girl I loved and will always fucking love in my arms, literally fucking her. And after, I just…fuck! I’m not right for her. I’ve only hurt her, and she doesn’t want me, not really. I’m actually doing her a favor right now. She’s got her new, shiny toy, and her life is perfect. She’s got that fucking program now and—and where the fuck would I fit?
Where do I make sense? I’m like that one fucked-up jigsaw puzzle piece you have no idea where it came from. Either way I try to jam my dumb ass in her life, I will always be a mess and I just won’t fit, not perfectly. But with that Nick guy…he matches her perfect puzzle board. It would most likely be a picture of their fucking wedding, and he won’t be out of place. He’s right for her, just so fucking right, and it makes me pissed beyond words.
If I even tried to make my way back into her life, what then? Do we just broadcast that she has me wrapped around her tiny little finger? Do I drop Rose and break her heart? We may not be a thing, but I realize that what I did to her in the past was so fucked up. I was just too messed up to think it was that huge of a deal, but now I do, and I’d actually feel like shit if I just gave her up. Do Liv and I just resume
where we left off? Her living with me and we’d just act like nothing fucking happened? Like she didn’t rip my fucking heart out with her bare, freakishly small hands?
I’m not so sure I’m ready for that. Not hating her to the point that it physically makes me sick or wakes me up in the middle of the night. If I don’t have even a little tinge of hate…then what the fuck do I have? The realization that I am so goddamn in deep and am holding onto my pride for dear life. That if I allow myself to fall for her, even deeper than I have before, I will be an empty shell that would lay down my life for her without hesitation. I can’t be that pussy, and I won’t allow myself to be a lamb going to the slaughter but allowing myself to be hurt by her once a-fucking-gain, I’m not that damn stupid.
So I punch and jab and duck and drive my taped, bruised fists into the red punching bag. I kick it and act like it’s myself more and more until I am convinced it is me. I am staring into a mirror, and this guy is fuming at me, screaming at me to not be such a pussy, such a dumbass. So I keep throwing my fists and doing everything to make the reflection crack so I won’t have to see his face anymore. But he just keeps screaming and screaming, and my ears actually feel like they’re starting to bleed. I turn around and fall to the floor, feeling another attack coming.
Ever since I’ve stopped taking my medication, I’ve been having…let’s call them “episodes.” Basically, I freak the fuck out, it feels like my insides are being pulled from the inside out, my throat gets really fucking dry, and my emotions are flown everywhere. I begin shaking and feeling tears streak down my face. I am eternally grateful only, like, five guys are in here with me, and they’re plenty far away from me since I’m in the back by myself.
Get it under control, Wyler, my subconscious orders, and I take deep breaths.
I will not let myself go under all the pressure weighing on my chest. I can get through this; I have plenty of times before.
Grey: The Retribution (Spectrum Series Book 3) Page 30