Page 33 of Brutal Little Secrets

“Fuck,” Cam whispers. That first night they took turns in my mouth and going down on me. It was amazing.

Damon’s fingers tighten on my waist. “Would you have believed Evan if she said she was a virgin?”

“Yeah,” Cam says. “I knew there was something off from what we were being told. And if I had a girlfriend all alone at her house, I wouldn’t have been getting some on a couch at a pool party.”

“Oddly specific,” I grumble, knowing he’s talking about Chase. But I appreciate that Cam didn’t let others color his view of me.

“I don’t know.” Hawk runs a hand over his hair. “I might have questioned it, especially at first. But I don’t know if I would have believed you. Sorry, Annie.”

I shrug, but it hurts a little knowing he wouldn’t have trusted me.

“I wouldn’t have.” Damon slides his hand between my legs and rubs me through my leggings. “You were dating a guy who I saw getting head by a blond when he ran me off the road. Guys generally don’t wait for their girlfriends to be ready. They push. Maybe you were bad at it, and he didn’t want to take the time to train you.”

I try to shift away, but he holds me in place.

“I’m being honest, Evan. I’m not trying to sugarcoat this. Everything around me was telling me you were a whore acting like a good girl.”

Fuck this. I try to pull away again. He tightens his hold, pressing his fingers against my clit, which apparently doesn’t have any compulsion against wanting him even when he’s being an asshole.

He continues, “I didn’t know you. We weren’t in the same circles. I only knew what I saw and what other people told me.”

“What other people?” I turn to look into his eyes.

“Olivia.”

My insides chill. “Stop touching me.”

“No. Fuck that. You want the truth? She’s an evil bitch who spreads rumors. I didn’t trust what she said. But it fed into the story I told myself. Chase and his whore of a girlfriend were the reason I didn’t go off to live my fucking dream. That accident cost me my future. So yeah, I wanted to believe that the tight little fuck toy who had moved into my house was a whore.”

His eyes search mine and I don’t know what to say to that. What to say to him. It burns something inside me, but at least he’s not trying to lie to me.

“What tears me up inside is, I knew.” He grabs the back of my neck. His fingers squeeze the tight muscles. “Little things didn’t add up. That week I watched you every fucking day.”

My breath catches in my throat.

“Cam’s right. If I knew my girl was home alone, I’d be in that tiny twin bed with my cock buried deep inside her, making her scream. I couldn’t make sense of it, because it didn’t fit the story.Youdidn’t fit the story. And if that was the truth, then I was blackmailing the wrong girl. I was forcing some innocent to play my games.”

He takes in a breath and narrows his eyes on me. “It would mean I should do the right thing and let her go.”

My heart crashes. My fingers dig into his shirt. I don’t want that. Not now. Can he see my panic?

“But I can’t.” He brings his mouth to mine and stops, holding me in sweet anticipation of his lips on me. “Because you’re mine.”

He captures my mouth, and I surrender. I’m not mad he thought I was a whore. I knew that from the beginning. I don’tcare that he blackmailed me into this twisted relationship. All I care about is the way it felt when he was moving inside me, so much better than his fingers.

“Ask a question, goody, before he forgets and fucks you again.” Cam’s voice pulls me out of it as Damon lifts his head. Cam chuckles. “Ask something I won’t answer so I can get a dare.”

I pull away from Damon, searching his blue eyes for something. I’m not sure what. Maybe assurance that what I’m feeling he’s feeling too.

He draws me back to him. “You’re ours, Evan. Every inch of you. I can’t wait to watch the others fuck you while I take your mouth.”

I’m heated again, almost aching with the need for release. Dragging in a breath, I try to focus on something I want to know about all of them. We’re definitely leaning more sexual, but what do I want to know?

“Who do you think about when you masturbate?” I look at Cam first.

“You and those tiny skirts you wore to school before the new ones.” Cam wets his lips. “During literature, I want to slide my hand between your legs, slip beneath those cotton panties, and see how wet I can make you.”

“That’s not?—”