Page 85 of Dark Little Game

He lets out a long breath. “I don’t want him to find out. But fucking with you is the most fun I’ve had in years, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to stop myself.”

He puts his hand on the back of my neck. He strokes my hair with his fingers as he gives me a hard stare.

I watch the silvery-grey flecks in his eyes and it feels alarming to realize that I’m closer to Hunter now than ever.

“Weston can never know about us, and he never will,” Hunter says.

He’s only an inch away.

Right now, it’s difficult not to lean in and kiss his lips again.

I want to. Despite everything.

“Thank you,” I say.

“I like knowing that you’re mine,” he says. “You’re mine when you’re fucking my mouth, or when you’re in class, or when you’re out playing football. You’re mine every time my brother looks at us. I’mgoingto protect you from whoever is after you, and it’ll be easier if you just accept that.”

My heart feels like it’s too big for my chest again.

I should be freaked out by what he’s saying, but instead, my body responds to it like a challenge.

Game on.

“Treat me like I’m your new favorite toy all you want,” I murmur. “Sure felt like you were the one who belonged tomewhen I was throat-fucking you, Knox.”

“I take good care of my toys. I will for you, too.”

I don’t believe a single word of it.

Hunter and Weston have never cared much about toys, anyway. Back in high school their stepmom had a habit of getting them new gadgets and technology andverynice cars anytime the boys asked. She showered them with gifts, because she wanted her new stepsons to love her.

And they never stayed interested in any of them for long.

Guys who had everything gotboredof everything fast.

Hunter would drop me like a broken toy the moment he got bored of me.

I couldn’t let myself forget that.

“You think I owe a single thing to you?” I ask him. “You were supposed to tell me about London. I’m not going to forget about it, Knox.”

He looks so good it’s hard to comprehend. His lashes, his milky skin, his cheekbones. Hunter could be an actor if he wanted to be. His face is made to be looked at, and made to be admired. And I still can’t really believe I’m so close to it.

That the flame of his attention is suddenlyvery muchaimed at me.

He presses another kiss onto my forehead. “You don’t owe me anything. You just belong to me. Get used to it.”

He lets me go and starts to walk out of the room, leaving me there as I lean back against the bookshelves in the low light.

But before he leaves, he turns back to me. “You’re going to regret asking about London. Meet me upstairs. I’ll tell you everything.”

16

Hunter

I plan on giving Rayne the short version, and instead, I bare my soul to him.

He’s on his bed, I’m on mine.