Page 32 of Quiet Rage (Wicked Falls Elite #5)

Tamson

I think I could get used to this pretending stuff.

It’s dangerous. Don’t go too far. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing those thoughts far away after waking up in Kellen’s strong arms. Not now.

Let me have this for now. I don’t think it’s too much to ask, lying here in Kellen’s arms, pretending we started off differently than we did.

Tricking myself into believing we’re a normal couple.

The memory of us brainstorming over made-up scenarios makes me smile. He is such a different person when it’s just the two of us. He’s funny, sweet, creative, thoughtful. He could make some girl an ideal boyfriend.

It’s just a shame that girl can’t be me.

I hate that I have to think that now, when all I want is to marinate in the warmth and satisfaction. Maybe it makes me greedy. Maybe I deserve a little greediness after missing out on so much. I mean, life can’t always be grim and bleak, right? I deserve this. I deserve to feel good.

And I want to keep feeling good. My heart flutters when an idea slips into my thoughts like smoke sneaking beneath a door. How would I start? He’ll probably laugh at me. I’ll be clumsy, won’t I? Awkward. What if he wouldn’t want to do it?

I guess there’s only one way to find out. I know how good I can feel when we’re together like this. I want that now. I want to feel everything.

He’s on his back, making it easy for me to slowly get up and kneel above him. “What are you doing?” he asks with a sleepy grin, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Funny, but I’ll never get tired of watching him do ordinary things like that.

Instead of answering in words, I throw a leg over him until I’m kneeling with his hips between my knees.

I slept in nothing but my panties last night—neither of us bothered getting dressed again after our massages.

Is this really me, sitting on top of this man, letting him look hungrily at my body before his hands start sliding up my legs?

Of course, because I am the girl in those stories we made up yesterday. This is my boyfriend. We had a meet-cute and everything. And now, with a smile playing over his lips, he murmurs, “I love looking at you like this. Do you have any idea how beautiful your body is?”

How would I? He’s the first person who ever said that to me.

The body he likes so much goes warm not only because of his touch but out of pleasure and maybe a little bit of pride.

“What else do you like doing with my body?” I ask, slowly leaning down and letting my hair brush against his chest and shoulders.

His eyes are endless, full of mysteries I would love to solve.

The more I learn about him, the more I want to know.

The more time I spend with him, the more time I crave.

He lets me take the lead, kissing him slowly, lips lingering against his before I poke out the tip of my tongue to run over the seam. His deep, rumbling groan and growing dick pressing against my ass tell me I’m doing a good job. I don’t have to worry about being rejected.

This is how it could be all the time. Kissing slowly, feeling the heat build. My skin tingling under his touch. Moaning softly into his mouth when he peels my panties away, giggling as we awkwardly try to get me out of them.

He’s chuckling by the time he tosses them to the floor, then brushes my hair out of my face before kissing me again, deeper now. Making the fantasy real with every sweep of his tongue, every caress.

I can’t help but go with what my body wants, and pretty soon he’s harder than ever, pressing against me through his underwear while I slowly roll my hips and grind against him. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he whispers, sitting up, pulling me tight against him.

“I would rather keep you alive,” I whisper back, wrapping my arms around his shoulders while he cups my boobs in his hands, lifting them to his waiting lips so he can suck and lick. It’s pure bliss, and he is so, so good at working my body like it’s an instrument made just for him.

“Inside me,” I moan, letting my head fall back, savoring every touch of his lips to my chest, my throat, until he finally has to take me by the back of my head to bring my mouth to his.

My body is on fire. I’m dripping wet when his hand finds me.

The slightest touch and I’m shaking, weak, grinding hard, moaning into his mouth.

His heart pounds against mine, and he holds me tight against him with his free arm while strumming my clit with the other.

“Oh, yeah,” he grunts when I break the kiss.

His breath is so hot, but it makes me shiver when it hits my skin.

“Make yourself feel good. Get ready for my cock.”

It’s his words that take me over the edge, making me whimper and shudder before I fall apart. He holds me through it all, his soft kisses bringing me back to reality once the first blinding rush of pleasure slowly fades.

When I open my eyes, he’s smiling, stroking my hair. I tilt my hips to line him up with me once he pulls himself free of his shorts. “Let me watch you,” he whispers, sucking in a quick breath when I take him inside and begin to slowly lower myself on him.

He lies back, hands folded behind his head, and the nerves that almost held me back are nowhere to be found now. My needs are louder than any nerves, and they make it possible for me to move, riding him slowly, running my hands over his chest and his abs. Indulging in him. Indulging myself.

“So hot,” he growls, moving his hips, working with me. “Do you know how hot you are? How perfect?”

I don’t know about that. I only know this feels so good. This perfect little bubble we’ve created, our own world. There’s nothing but us, but this moment, with the tension building in my core again and his groans getting deeper, sharper with every slow stroke I take.

His hands run up my back and pull me down for another kiss. I go gladly, gasping when he takes hold of my hips to move me. I’m so close, and so is he, jerking his hips from below, bringing me down hard and fast in these last wild, breathless moments.

I lift my head far enough to look down at him, eyes locked.

“Come with me,” I whisper before shattering again, shaking and whimpering.

It’s so good. Too good. I’m barely aware of him lifting me by the hips before heat splashes my inner thighs.

His long, satisfied sigh makes my swollen lips stir in a smile. I made him feel good.

He eases me onto my side and gets up, going to the bathroom for a wet washcloth, which he uses to slowly, gently clean me.

I don’t know what’s better: his careful strokes with the cloth or the look of concentration on his face when I pry my eyes open to watch him.

Like he takes his job seriously. Why can’t he be like this all the time? I could fall in love with him.

Even the danger of a thought like that doesn’t matter when he crawls back into bed and draws me into the warmth of his embrace. “What brought that on?” he asks, his breath stirring my hair before he presses his lips to the top of my head.

“I wanted to try something new. You know, for science,” I joke.

“Oh? That’s all it was? An experiment?”

Pulling my head back, I grin at him. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Hey. Don’t let me stop you from your research,” he murmurs. There’s a twinkle in his eye I love to see. “Shit, if that’s how much fun science always is, I should change my major.”

We both laugh softly, wrapped around each other, kissing and teasing. This might be the best part of all. These soft, sweet moments afterward.

At least, until his phone buzzes on the nightstand, where he left it last night. The sigh he releases makes his chest rise and fall under my cheek, and my heart sinks when he reaches for the phone. So much for our bubble. It was nice while it lasted.

“Shit. I’d better go.” He drops his phone on the bed before covering his eyes with his arm. I hear the regret in his voice. I wish he didn’t have to feel it, even if it’s sort of nice knowing he would rather stay here.

“Can’t you pretend you didn’t get whatever message that was?”

He chuckles softly, lifting his arm, wrapping it around me instead. “Here we go, pretending again.”

Sometimes I hate how connected the world is all the time. Back in the day, people could just disappear for a little while if they wanted to. Now, there’s no excuse.

Just a few more minutes. Squeezing my eyes closed, I pay close attention to everything about him. The feeling of his skin, the sound of his heartbeat. I need to live in this moment as long as I can because right now, things are perfect. Scary, but perfect.

“Listen. I have to tell you something.”

So much for that. It’s not what he says, but the way he sounds. Like whatever is coming next will make me unhappy, and he wishes he didn’t have to say it.

Still locked in his arms, I tip my head to look up at him.

He’s staring at the ceiling, jaw tight. “Your father owes mine a lot of money and he is ordering me to make your life hell until it’s paid.

We’re coming back tomorrow night. Back here,” he explains.

“We’re supposed to. That’s the order Dad passed down.

But I’m going to make sure it doesn’t have to happen. ”

“How can you do that?” I’m almost afraid to ask. Afraid of what the answer might be. He’s not going to, like, kill somebody… is he? I don’t know why my mind went there. Maybe it’s because I get the feeling there’s a whole bunch of things about him that might hurt to hear.

“I’m going to give your dad the money. I’m going to wipe his debt clean.”

My head pops up while I gasp. “That’s a lot of money, isn’t it? I mean, he never talked about a total,” I muse, “but it has to be a lot.”

“I know exactly how much it is, and this is the decision I made. It’s the only way.” His hand cups the back of my head, fingers massaging my scalp. It’s so soothing, and I want so badly to close my eyes and sink deep into the pleasure of his touch.

This could mean the end of Dad’s trouble. No more beatings, no more threats.

I just wish I could believe completely. That I could trust fully.

And I hate that I can’t. It’s not fair to feel this torn. But this is a little more important than making up stories and acting like we’re in a real relationship. I can’t pretend my way out of this.

I can’t pretend Kellen hasn’t let me down in the past.

“Do you believe me?” He searches my face for the answer he needs to hear, and I want to give it to him. More than anything. I also want my heart to be in it.

I’ll pretend this one more time, because it’s what I need to do. “Yes.”

I can almost believe it, too.

Just like I can almost believe I don’t really miss him after he leaves. I can almost convince myself there aren’t any real feelings inside me, drawing me a little closer to him all the time. I can pretend he doesn’t mean anything.

Almost.