Page 5

Quinn

I hated him.

I hated the way his voice crawled under my skin. I hated the sharp, mocking tone he used when he spoke to me, the way he looked at me like I was nothing.

But more than anything, I hated the way he made me feel.

The way his body pressed against mine like it belonged there. The way his voice dropped into that low, taunting whisper that made my stomach twist and my thighs clench together. The way his lips hovered just close enough to make me forget why I hated him in the first place.

And now, as I sat perched on the edge of the counter, his hips grinding against mine, his lips trailing down the line of my jaw—I hated the way I couldn’t stop myself from responding.

The sharp press of his cock through his shorts had my body trembling, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. My fingers gripped the edge of the counter so tightly my knuckles ached, but I couldn’t let go.

I couldn’t stop the sharp, electric heat building in my core, spiraling tighter and tighter with every slow, deliberate movement of his hips.

“North, stop,” I whispered, but even I could hear how weak the words were.

He didn’t stop.

“Is that what you really want, rabbit?” he murmured against my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Because you’re shaking for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

I bit my lip hard, trying to smother the desperate sound rising in my throat, but it didn’t help. His words wrapped around me, dark and taunting, pulling me deeper into a haze of heat and confusion.

“This is wrong,” I managed to repeat, though the tremble in my voice made it sound more like a question.

“Is it?” he whispered back, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

I hated the way my body responded to him, the way my thighs tightened around his hips as he pressed against me again, slow and deliberate. The friction was unbearable, sharp and sweet and completely overwhelming.

My head fell back against the cabinet with a shaky exhale, my chest rising and falling against his.

“You’re so fucking desperate,” he murmured, his tone mocking but laced with something darker. “Is your pussy aching, rabbit?” He brushed his nose against my skin, his chest rumbling with a groan.

I gasped, the words hitting me like a slap, but the worst part was how my body reacted—how the heat between my legs flared, sharp and insistent.

When I didn’t respond, he bit my neck and the sharp pain was jarring enough to push me that much closer to the edge. “I asked you a question. Are you fucking wet for me, Quinn?”

“No,” I said, though my voice cracked, betraying me.

“No?” His lips curved into a smirk as his hand slid to the back of my neck, tilting my head so he could look me in the eye. His blue-gray stare burned into mine, filled with a dark, predatory gleam that sent a jolt of fear—and something else—through me. “Maybe I should check.”

Fuck no. I wouldn’t last if he used his fingers on me. I opened my mouth to say the words, to tell him to stop, but they wouldn’t come.

Instead, a sharp, loud bark of laughter rang out, cutting through the suffocating tension like a knife.

North stiffened against me, his body going rigid as his head whipped toward the door.

I followed his stare, my heart pounding, and saw Victor leaning casually against the frame, a cigarette between his fingers and a smirk playing on his lips.

“Don’t mind me,” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement. “Just here for the show.”

My face burned, the heat flooding my cheeks as humiliation crashed over me like a wave.

North stepped back, his hand falling away from my neck, his expression darkening as he turned to Victor.

“Get the fuck out,” he snapped, his voice sharp and dangerous.

Victor just laughed, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. “Relax, man. I’m just saying, if you’re gonna fuck her, maybe pick somewhere a little more private. The kitchen’s a little… public, don’t you think? My little sister’s here, have some respect.”

My stomach twisted, the sharp edge of his words cutting deep.

North moved before I could react, grabbing Victor by the front of his shirt and shoving him out of the kitchen.

“Out,” he growled, his voice low and menacing.

Victor’s laughter faded as he disappeared down the hallway, leaving the two of us alone again.

The silence that followed was deafening, heavy with everything that had just happened.

I slid off the counter, my legs shaking as I attempted to steady myself.

North turned back to me, his blue-gray eyes still burning, and for a moment, I thought he might say something. He didn’t have the chance to.

The sharp crack of my hand meeting his cheek echoed through the kitchen, louder than I expected. My palm stung from the impact, and my breath came in shallow, ragged bursts as I stared up at him, trembling.

“Are you fucking insane?” I snapped, my voice shaking but louder than I thought it would be. “What the hell is wrong with you? We’re practically family.”

North barely flinched.

Instead, he turned his head back slowly, swiping at the red mark blooming on his cheek with the back of his hand. His lips—still wet from the kiss—curved into a slow, infuriating smirk that sent a wave of anger surging through me.

“Careful, rabbit,” he drawled, his tone casual, mocking. “Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” He took a deliberate step closer, his blue-gray eyes gleaming with something dark and dangerous. “Besides, it’s not like we’re actually related. You’re just the murderer’s daughter to me.”

The words hit their mark, deliberate and cutting, and I hated how my body betrayed me.

My heart raced, my skin burning with heat I refused to acknowledge.

I wanted to scream at him, to tell him how fucking wrong he was, but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, I grabbed the water bottles off the counter, clutching them like they were some kind of shield, and bolted toward the door.

I didn’t look back.

But I could still feel him—his heated stare burning into my back, the ghost of his lips lingering on mine like a tattoo.

***

Back by the pool, I shoved the water bottle at Summer, avoiding her questioning look as I dropped into the lounge chair beside her.

“You okay?” she asked, her tone light but tinged with curiosity.

“Fine,” I lied, twisting the cap off my bottle and taking a long drink to steady myself.

Summer didn’t press, and I was grateful for the distraction of her chatter as she started talking about something she’d seen on her Instagram feed. I nodded along, murmuring responses when it felt appropriate, but my focus kept slipping. She was sweet, much nicer than the rest of North’s dickish friends.

The stillness of the lake house seemed to press down on me, heavy and suffocating, and even though North wasn’t here, I couldn’t shake the feeling of his presence.

My attention kept darting toward the darkened windows, my chest tightening with the irrational sense that I was being watched. I tried to push the thought away, to remind myself that it was just my imagination.

“He’s not all bad, you know,” Summer said suddenly, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I blinked, turning to look at her. “What?”

“North,” she clarified, her tone genuine but unsure. “He can be a dick, sure, but he’s not all bad. When you get to know him, he’s…” She trailed off, her expression softening. “He’s loyal. In his own way.”

I scoffed before I could stop myself, the sound bitter and sharp. “Loyal? He treats people like shit.”

“Yeah, he does.” Summer shrugged, giving me a small, knowing smile. “Still, you’d be surprised how different he is when you get to know him.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. How could someone as cruel and manipulative as North inspire loyalty? The idea made my stomach twist.

I wanted to press her, to ask her how she could defend someone like him, but I bit my tongue. Instead, I changed the subject, steering the conversation toward safer topics—clothes, music, anything that didn’t involve North.

But her words stayed with me, lingering like a broken record in my mind.

Was I missing something? Or was Summer just blind to who he really was?

I tried to focus on her chatter, using it as a lifeline to distract myself from the turmoil inside me. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about him—about the kiss, the way his lips felt against mine, the way he made me feel like I was unraveling with every word, every touch.

It was a game to him, I realized. A twisted, cruel game where he held all the cards, and I was losing pieces of myself with every move he made.

And the worst part was, I didn’t know how to stop playing.

“You should come tonight,” Summer said, continuing to gossip.

I frowned, glancing at her. “Come where?”

“The bonfire,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “North’s hosting it. It’s kind of a thing we do every summer. You’ll love it—it’s fun, I promise.”

I hesitated, my stomach twisting at the thought of putting myself in a situation where I’d have to face him again. “I don’t know, Summer…”

“Come on,” she urged, her tone playful but insistent. “It’ll be good for you to get out, to meet people. You can’t just hide in the house all summer.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the look on her face stopped me. She looked so hopeful, so earnest, and I didn’t have the heart to say no.

“Fine,” I said finally, the word heavy with resignation.

Summer beamed, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet. “Great! Let’s go find you something to wear.”

She led me inside, dragging me toward the guest room she’d chosen to stay in. Somewhere in the East wing of the lakehouse. The space was a mess, clothes strewn across the bed and floor in a way that made it look like a bomb had gone off.

I hid my mirth, but Summer must’ve seen something on my face anyway because she giggled. “Sorry,” she said with a sheepish grin, kicking a pile of shoes out of the way. “I wasn’t really expecting company.”

I laughed softly despite myself, the tension in my chest easing just a little.

“Here,” Summer said, digging through a pile of dresses and pulling out something soft and flowy. “Try this.”

I took the dress from her, the fabric cool and smooth in my hands. It was simple but pretty—a pale blue sundress with thin straps and a skirt that flared slightly at the waist.

“You’ll look amazing,” Summer said, her tone light and teasing.

I smiled weakly, my stomach twisting with a mix of excitement and dread.

This felt like a very, very bad idea.