Vote Then Read: Volume II

by Lauren Blakely

“You can’t help it, can you?” I said, low and quiet. “You’re so fucking wet.”

  Her fingers shivered, her breath halting—nervous. I loved getting Abigail nervous as much as I loved shocking her. She got high off the nerves; the fear was adrenaline. In Abigail’s world, there wasn’t much to be nervous or afraid of. They had everything, were above the law—it bred comfort and boredom.

  I leaned in, my breath licking her ear. “If I asked you to finger yourself right now, would you?”

  “Don’t,” she pleaded.

  Making sure to keep my posture casual and give nothing away from behind, I leaned forward and bit her earlobe. Her finger dropped, spreading herself as if unconsciously. That image is going to be burned in my goddamn retinas, Abigail giving in, fingering herself in front of her family.

  Then a second later, she shot up.

  I followed suit, standing casually to my feet, crossing my arms in front so my hands hung over my dick.

  Abigail ruffled her hair, cheeks red. “I’ll get you your gum, Gray.”

  “What gum?” Gray mumbled, but Abigail was practically running to the main house. I caught up with her just inside the foyer.

  Her glare was on me. That fucking Abigail Crowne glare. It shouldn’t turn me on so much.

  I pushed her against the door on a laugh, bending down until I was eye to eye with her swimsuit bottoms. I peeled aside the blue material. She was perfect. Naked. Bare. Wet.

  I found her eyes. “Fuck, Abigail, when was the last time someone ate you out?”

  Her eyelids fluttered. “S-Stop tormenting me.”

  “Tormenting?” I laughed. “This is torment?”

  Eyes still locked, I took one slow lick from the bottom of her slit to the top. Her mouth parted, eyes stuck on me.

  I sucked her lips slowly until she shuddered, tasting the image that had tormented me. A taste I hadn’t been able to get out of my fucking head since the Swan Swell. Now it was a font I could drown in.

  Abigail was ambrosia. She was sunscreen and cocoa butter and her. A taste I wouldn’t ever get off my tongue.

  I tongue fucked her, ate her, consumed her, watching her disappear to ecstasy. She bit her lip raw, her eyes grew hazy, and goose bumps peppered her flesh. I could hear her family just outside the door. I didn’t give a shit, spurred on by her taste. She didn’t seem to mind either.

  “My little attention whore,” I said, sucking her clit harsh enough to draw a gasp. “Do you want to be caught?”

  Her hands found my shoulders, nails digging. “Don’t stop.”

  At her words, though it killed me, I tore myself from her. I stood up and took a step back. Her swimsuit was torn to the side, messed up in the most distracting of ways, showing too much of her pussy and not enough at once. She looked at me with hazy, confused eyes.

  I threw her a grin. “But you asked so nicely before.”

  I wrapped my arm around her waist, thrusting her to me, crashing her lips against mine wet with her. My free hand dove between her thighs, finding her swimsuit still pushed aside. As our tongues met, I fingered her deep, hard, and fast, but only for a second, before I stopped.

  More confusion muddled her pretty clay eyes.

  “I don’t want to torment you, Abigail,” I said, licking her off my fingers.

  Realization gave way to anger, and she clenched and unclenched her fist. I thought she might throw something at me, but she only exhaled and raised her chin.

  Her eyes glittered, and she adjusted her swimsuit. “I’ll get you back, Theo.”

  I grinned. “Looking forward to it.”

  ABIGAIL

  I would get revenge on Theo. I couldn’t think about anything save him all damn day, and he knew it. He had the smuggest half smile on his face. Not even “accidentally” kicking sand in his face took it away. He’d just brushed the grains out of his eyes like he knew why I’d done it.

  By the time the sun was setting in a violent sapphire-violet, I almost had an idea of what I would do. He needed a taste of his own medicine, and I couldn’t do that on this fucking island. Gemma and Gray always snuck off the island, and I never asked to go out with them. They never wanted me, and I didn’t feel like taking that hit to my ego.

  Revenge might be worth it.

  At dinner, we sat outside beneath the rising stars with the breath of salt air. When I sat next to Gemma, she looked like I’d spat in her food. We always made sure to keep at least one seat between one another or, if you were Gray, you claimed an entire side.

  “Wait for me tonight,” I whispered. Gray looked up from his phone at my words, the same look Gemma had written across his face.

  “Um, what?” Gemma asked at last.

  “You’re not invited,” Gray said slowly, like he was teaching algebra to a toddler.

  “Just save a spot for me on the boat,” I hissed. I could tell Gemma was about to not so kindly repeat what Gray had said, so I added, “Or I could tell Mom…” I glanced down the table to where she was eyeing her bouillabaisse like someone was about to get fired.

  Gemma’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Fine.”

  “Abigail…” my mother trilled. “The Harlingtons will join us in Switzerland this year for an unofficial engagement party.”

  I was still smiling from my win with Gemma when she spoke. How could I have gone so long without thinking about my marriage and my fiancé? I was supposed to meet him, and when I didn’t, when everything happened… I got swept away.

  I glanced at Theo. He gave nothing away. If he cared I was getting married, he didn’t show it. Beneath the table I rolled T2 between my fingers. I looked at my stew, picking at the fish and onions and tomatoes with my other hand.

  “My fiancé didn’t even bother showing up to the Fourth,” I muttered.

  Mom glanced at me. “Lying is very beneath a Crowne, Abigail.”

  “He didn’t!” I dropped my spoon with a clang. “Am I really supposed to marry someone who doesn’t fucking show up when they say they will? How will I recognize him on my wedding day? What if I accidentally fuck the usher?”

  “Let’s be honest,” Gray said. “It won’t be an accident.”

  Mom had gone quiet, the time it took for her to speak counted by the waves.

  “I think you’re done eating,” she said at last.

  I didn’t argue. I pushed away from the table with so much force my bowl toppled over, spilling red stew onto the soft satin linen. Theo followed me quietly back inside.

  Theo and I didn’t speak at all after dinner, and I almost didn’t go through with what I’d planned. But what choice did I have, really? If I didn’t, we would be stuck together with the third wheel that was my unmet fiancé.

  The reality that was being a Crowne.

  After getting dressed, I found Theo in the adjoining room, bent over behind the couch. He turned his head at my footfalls. His profile was breathtaking—then I saw the item in his hand.

  “You do still have her diary.”

  He shoved it back in a black bag. I tried not to be hurt he was still hiding it from me. I chewed my lip as an awkward silence stretched.

  “You really don’t want to look for her?” I asked.

  Theo stood to his full height, folding his arms, taking in my pale blue cropped tank top with a plunging vee, my tight skirt that barely hit my thighs. “Where are you going?”

  “You didn’t answer my…” I trailed off with a sigh and shrugged. “Off the island.”

  He arched a brow. “You don’t get invited to that.”

  Ouch.

  “Well, tonight I was.” I mashed my lips so he couldn’t see the pain, but it was futile. His eyes softened, seeing through me. I raised my middle finger, showing my dangling T2, trying to change the subject.

  “I’m bringing my dog. Nothing to worry about.”

  He didn’t argue when I opened my window. I could’ve taken the door… but I liked having him catch me; it was like before everything went to shit. Theo went first and held both his arms ou
t for me, hoisting me down from the window. My chest slid against his, and he held me in place long after I was safely down.

  “Sure you want to go out?” he asked, low. My eyes were locked on his soft lips, dusky pink in the dark. The Mediterranean night air was warm, and his lips were so, so close.

  There was still so much debris between us. The longer we went without addressing it, the harder it would be to dig ourselves out, but the emotion surging behind his luminous eyes brought me back to the simpler nights. The nights when he caught me from my window, when we both fell to the night dark grass and tried to keep our laughter hidden from roaming Crowne Hall guards. There were times when I thought he would kiss me. When he stared at my lips the way he did now.

  I lifted my eyes, meeting his burning ones.

  In the distance, a bird squawked and I used the distraction to separate.

  I won’t lie, I was terrified as we approached the dock. I wouldn’t have put it past my brother and sister to leave without me. They were there, though, boat churning water, Gray at the wheel and Story seated behind him.

  I took a seat in the stern, watching her. Story looked absolutely miserable. I wasn’t ever one to wonder why Gray did the things he did, but now I couldn’t help it. What was he doing with her? Or… to her.

  Gray pulled us away from the pier, and in no time we were rushing toward our destination, sweet, salty air kissing my cheeks. The Riviera skyline was like a colorful chest of treasure opened and shining against the black sky. Gray turned off the engine when we arrived, steering us into a hidden cliff. The stars above us vanished and for a moment it was utterly pitch.

  The thumping beat hit us first.

  Then the dark opened up into a dazzling cliffside grotto that looked out over an ocean, enclosed by rock on three of its sides. A DJ spun on a dais in the middle of the water, colorful jewel-toned spotlights flashed from him into the crowd. Girls in bikinis and skimpy dresses danced on stages built into the rock, hair flying with their movements. Some jumped off rocks into the water below.

  Gray docked our boat amid many others.

  This was the most exclusive club in the French Riviera. Only a few knew its location and how to get here. I already recognized Khalid and the teenage heartthrob from our after party. The thing is, exclusive just meant small. We all frequent the same clubs and places. If you don’t like someone, tough shit, you learn to tolerate them.

  Someone was there to help each of us out of our boat.

  Theo, Gemma, and I were the last to leave.

  “Let’s try to avoid each other,” Gemma said to me, her hand still encased in the man helping her get out. She stepped onto the polished floor, her hair all but whipping me in the face. She spotted her friends—the Gemma troopers, I called them, because they all looked like mini fucking Gemmas—and ran to them with a squeal.

  “Yeah, they really wanted you here,” Theo said at my back, a laugh all but on his tongue.

  I ground my jaw, letting the man help me out of the boat as I eyed the girls dancing on the stages, my plan set.

  “You have your bad idea face again,” Theo said when he was out of the boat.

  “I don’t have—” I exhaled, blowing a strand of hair. “Will you do me a favor, Theo?” I asked, batting my eyelashes, tone saccharine.

  He pushed his cheek out with his tongue, looking me up and down with sharp eyes. A small barely-there smile hooked his cheek, and it nearly buckled me. It was like he was reading all of my thoughts, and it amused him. I was a mouse the lion had decided not to kill for a few minutes.

  “Oh yeah, Reject? What favor?”

  I ignored him calling me Reject. “Um… could you get me a drink?”

  Another one of those sharp looks, then his grin spread. Slow, feral, devious. “Sure thing. I’ll get you a drink.”

  I watched him walk away, his broad back disappearing into the crowd. That grin. It lingered in the jelly in my thighs. It made me nervous even though he was playing into my plans.

  I shook it off—physically shook it off—then ran to a stage.

  The club had multiple stages on all floors leading to the top. Every one was open so you could jump into the ocean with the DJ. From the bottom looking up, you could see them all.

  Every stage was taken, but I didn’t care. I made my way to the top, eyes on the best. There were few above a Crowne, and this girl was not one of them.

  “Get off.”

  She was about to argue, but when she saw who I was, she quickly scampered off the stage.

  I spent years dancing, and I got a delicious thrill thinking this is how my training was being used. Dear mistress Alexy, all those fucking hours spent en pointe are now being used to shake my ass for semi-random strangers. Dear Mom, all those hours you forced me to stretch are now being used to bend over—

  I was grasped by the wrist, and I stumbled into Theo’s piercing, pale green eyes. “What are you doing?”

  His voice was rough, like sandpaper, and it rubbed me in the best way.

  “Tormenting goes both ways, Theo.” I leaned in like I was going to kiss his cheek, then pulled back with a wicked smile. His eyes darkened, sending thrills down my spine. I tugged my wrist and he narrowed his eyes a fraction but loosened his hold.

  Like he wanted me to know he’d let go.

  He didn’t stay at the base of the stage like a lot of the men. He went to the edge of the floor until his back was to air and the water below.

  Song after song, Theo let me dance, but I could feel him. All other persons faded away. Through the crowd, Theo’s dark and twisted wire throbbed.

  I lifted up my shirt and the crowd went wild.

  I had a half second to register the rush before I was grabbed at the ankle. I was yanked hard, flying up and into the air, catching Theo’s upside-down glare. At the same moment I was certain I was going to slam into the shiny stage, Theo’s arms wrapped around my waist. He threw me over his shoulder, ignoring my shouts.

  He yanked my skirt down, then his arm wrapped tight around it so it couldn’t ride up. I could barely register the gentlemanly action, when his thumb was at my panties, sliding through the material, and he was on me. Pressing into my slit, grazing me back and forth, driving me hotter and higher, as he carried me through the club like I was a feather.

  Torturer.

  Theo Hound was a cruel torturer.

  He carried me into a room carved into the rock, but by the hanging chandelier and plush carpet you wouldn’t know it. It overlooked the sparkling night and dark ocean. I could only hear the thump of the beat, the occasional happy scream and splash. We were totally hidden.

  He tossed me down with something like savage tenderness. I landed on my feet hard, but his hands came to my cheeks, pushing the hair out of the way.

  Then he kissed me, hard and brutal and over too fast.

  “Fuck, I love that color on your cheeks, Abigail. Only make it for me.” I think I must have flushed harder, because the grin on his face spread. “Yeah, sweet girl, like that.” He trailed his knuckles along my cheeks, down to my jaw.

  Goose bumps rose along my spine.

  “I thought you were going to…” I swallowed at the memory of him touching me. “In the club,” I finished on a whisper. I couldn’t say it. Theo sucked out my bravado and made me a puddle.

  In dark gray jeans and a black leather jacket, he was somehow both dressed up and casual, quintessentially Theo, and it was driving me nuts.

  His knuckles continued down my neck. “Would you like that?”

  It wouldn’t even be a shocking sight to the kind of people out there. Which is why the fact he brought me back here, to someplace private, had my gut twisting. It was more taboo to do things in private, more scandalous to keep a secret than tell it.

  “With you, Theo, there’s a lot I shouldn’t want… but I do.”

  He held my shoulder now, thumb at my collarbone. “Like?”

  A voice in my head whispered at me to say dirty things. I wanted them, of cour
se. I wanted to do all the dirty things with Theo, but that’s not what I was thinking when I spoke, and if I said that, I would only be pushing him away. The look in his eyes, the gentle way he stroked my collarbone, told me not to push him away.

  “I want you to sleep in my bed, Theo,” I said honestly. “I want to wake up in your arms.”

  Emotion flitted across his face, too quick to discern. “Sure thing, sweet girl.”

  And then he kissed me.

  20

  ABIGAIL

  I woke up in Theo’s arms, warm and safe for the third night in a row. We were in Spain now, having made the two hour flight last night. Now we slept in a custom bed bigger than a king, with soft sheets to complement the softer air. The room opened up to a wraparound porch with baluster railings overlooking the warm ocean.

  I folded my arms on his chest, resting my chin on my hands, and looked up at him. “Why do you call me sweet girl?”

  A flicker of a smile. “Because that’s what you are.”

  “I’ve been called a lot of things…”

  “You’re my sweet girl, Abigail. Just for me.” He pushed the hair out of my face, trailing his caress down to my lips. “You slept with the light off again.”

  “I guess I did,” I said. With Theo in my bed, I didn’t feel the need to keep it on. The meaning was clear and I felt too raw, but thankfully Theo didn’t press further.

  I angled to kiss him, stretching my arms out from sleep. As I did so, I swiped my arms across the nightstand to our left, accidentally knocking off his backpack. It fell to the floor, and his mom’s diary fell out. With it, the nice moment shattered.

  Theo slowly untangled from me, leaving me cold in bed, to put it away.

  My gut clenched at the sight. We hadn’t really let each other back in, not really. We’d stepped outside of our walls, into neutral territory. Neither of us had really torn them down.

  How long could that last?

  “It wasn’t random,” I said, watching him shove it back in. “That night on the beach, I mean. I know I acted like it could have been anyone, but it could only be you.”