Vendetta (16 page)

Another fit of giggles, these interrupted by Hayley, who finally decides to come in with lunch. I don’t pay her any attention when she enters, but tilt my head when she stands next to the bed.

“Here’s your lunch,” she says, her voice a little tight.

“Thanks.” I take the bag from her hand and put it down on the bedside table. Then I resume my interesting task of staring at the ceiling, hoping she'll take the hint and leave.

She doesn’t.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asks, her voice hesitant. I stare at her as she pushes her hair behind her ear, her watchful gaze on me. She looks . . . well, she looks like hell.

“Didn't sleep much last night,” she says as if reading my thoughts.

“Neither did I.” I grin at her. I don't know why I said it. To rub it in, or something.

“Oh, retract your fucking claws. I told you, it's not like that between us.”

But it was. I take her in from head to toe, seeing her in a whole new light. I see her as someone Devon held, kissed.
Fucked
. That earns me a horrible visual in my head, making me cringe.

Obviously he found her attractive. For that alone, I hate her. It pisses me off—even tired, with dark circles under her eyes, and her hair has definitely seen better days—she's gorgeous. Aside from the color of our eyes, we're nothing alike.

It soothes the ache just a little bit. It makes it worse at the same time. I can actually see why he went to her to get away from me. She's as different as he could get.

I turn my head away from her. “You’re not staying, are you?” I ask, deciding it's better to be left alone. No need to torture myself any more than I already have. I sit up against the headboard and glance into the bag, seeing what food she brought.

“So it’s like that now, is it?” she asks, sitting down on the bed. I stare her down, but don’t say anything.

“Look, Leighton, I'm sorry for what I said. I like you. I do. But . . . ” she trails off.

“But you love Devon. I get it, trust me.”

She looks thoughtful. “Yes, Devon will always come first to me. I want what’s best for him, and we both know that isn’t you.”

I'd be lying if I said the truth doesn't hurt. I squeeze my eyes shut at her harsh words. “What have you heard about me, Hayley?”

“What do you mean?” she asks a little warily. She tilts her head to watch me.

“Surely you’ve heard things about me over the years,” I say with a slight shrug. People talk about me. I’m not being egotistical; it just comes with being a part of my family.

“I’ve heard gossip over the years, sure,” she says, leaning back on her hands.

“Did you ever hear anything nice?” I ask, my lip twitching when she narrows her eyes.

She looks at me like I've grown a pair of horns. “I heard you were a mean bitch.”

I let her think about that as I take out the container of Chinese she brought me. Spork again. Really.

“Are you threatening me?” Hayley suddenly asks, sitting up straight. I shrug my shoulders. I'm not threatening her, not really, but I like that she thought of it.

She stands up and starts pacing the room. “He thinks he loves you,” she says in a quiet, unwavering tone. She looks at me. “Do you love him?”

I busy myself, stuffing my mouth with food.

She shakes her head and scoffs. “Then leave him alone, you stupid bitch. You're ruining him. You're poison to him,” she yells, losing her temper.

The door opens. We both shut up. Devon stands there, his confused eyes looking back and forth between the two of us. Hayley clears her throat. It does absolutely nothing to clear the stuffy atmosphere in the room. I want him to come to me so bad.

He walks over to her and she props herself on her tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek.

I fucking hate her.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“I thought you had business to take care of,” I say quietly, my tone giving nothing away.

“I do, I was just dropping in for a minute.” His gaze darts to Hayley. “Hales?”

Hayley opens her mouth to talk but then Devon glances at me, and interrupts her before she can start. “Go, I'll talk to you tomorrow,” he demands, pointing with his hand toward the door, his eyes still locked to mine. She narrows her eyes at me, pulling on his sleeve.

He looks at her and his voice softens. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

I drop my head and squeeze my eyes shut. He probably wouldn't like it if I strangled her to death.

“Fine,” she says, and then I hear the door open and close. I open my eyes and look at him locking the door after her.

“Are you okay?” he asks, bracing his fingers together behind his neck.

“Just peachy.”

“What was that all about?” He approaches me carefully; almost like he's scared I'll run off.

Run off where? Most I can do is lock myself in the stupid bathroom, and even then, that lock is so flimsy he just has to shove the door to come inside.

“Don’t be like that,” he says when I don't reply, scrubbing his hands down his face.

“Don't you have stuff to do?”

I’m jealous. I’m so jealous I’m seeing red right now.

“Can we talk tonight?” he asks.

Like I have a choice? I put my hands out, palms up. “I’ll have to check my schedule and get back to you.”

“You're so fucking difficult, Leighton,” he says, leaning closer. He kisses me on my forehead, and runs his finger down my jawline.

“Really? Because it seems to me that when it comes to you, I’m easy.” I place my hand over his and trail it down to my breast, cupping it.

He looks torn. I lean in and kiss him, my eyes locked to his. Adding a little more force to it, I trace his lips with my tongue, begging entrance. He smiles when I bite his lip roughly, frustrated that he won't give me what I want.

“I only want you,” he says, pulling away. His lips twitch when he sees me fighting a smile, and he leans down to place another kiss on my lips. “Tonight.”

I slump down on the bed and go back to looking at the ceiling, instead of watching him leave the room.

twelve

DEVON

It's nearly midnight when I come home carrying a bag of takeout from a fast food place I know she loves. She and her cousin have this routine dinner every week at the place. Sometimes he used to be a real cock-block, never leaving her alone for a second, but I understand. She’s precious to her family. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to eat at a place like that, so I figure he was just placating her.

My hand with the key hovers near the lock hesitantly. My heart is beating out of my chest. Why the hell am I so nervous?

I shake my head. Like a fucking teenager. Before I talk myself out of it, the key is in the lock and I turn it and slowly open the door.

The lamp is on, and she's lying on the bed on her stomach, her eyes closed, one of her hands hanging off the side. After locking the door, I walk over to the bed and put the bag with the food on the bedside table and shrug my jacket off, dropping it to the floor. She doesn't shift when I lie next to her, so she must be sleeping. I bury my face in the hair at the nape of her neck and inhale deeply, the mix of lavender shampoo and just
her
overwhelming my senses. I could spend all day doing nothing else.

“That's so creepy.”

I smile against her neck, running my fingers over her bare arm. She shivers under my touch but other than that, she doesn't move. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“No, I'm just dying.” She flips to her back and groans, banging the back of her head on the bed. “So fucking bored.”

I prop myself on my elbows and inhale and hold my breath, looking at the ceiling. I glance at her, my gaze traveling from her messy hair to her face. The bruise on her cheek is starting to fade, she has dark circles around her eyes and she's so, so pale. I've never seen her so pale. It doesn't make me feel good to see her like this, Moore or not.

I let myself fall on the bed again and finally exhale. “Okay, get up. Did Hayley get you anything warmer to wear?”

She lifts her head slightly and looks at me, her forehead scrunched in confusion but her eyes . . . how can someone look so hopeful and disappointed at the same time?

“Come on,” I say, adding a hint of impatience to my tone. I get off the bed and glance at her sprawled on the bed in tiny shorts and a T-shirt. I ignore my cock as it notices she's not wearing a bra under that shirt. Instead, I turn around and start looking through the drawers, though I see nothing in there that she can actually wear outside. It's gotten cold in the last few days. There's that smell of snow in the air, like it's about to start falling any minute.

She doesn't move, so I walk back to the bed and drag her up by her hands until she's standing. She looks at me, then down to our joined fingers. Squeezing my hands, she looks back up.

“We can go for a walk here on the estate,” I tell her, my voice softer this time.

She exhales and leans into me, pressing her face into my chest. “Thank you,” she mumbles into my shirt.

I don't even think about it, my arms go around her instantly and squeeze her tiny body tight against mine. I close my eyes, just feeling her molding into my embrace, like a puzzle piece falling into its place. And when she pulls away from me, I miss her already.

Of course she was made for me. I never doubted it. Because life couldn't get any more fucked up otherwise. And this is exactly why I cut her out of my life the first time. Why I should have never even gotten anywhere near her in the first place.

I take her hand in mine and lead her out of the room, trying to be as quiet as possible as I lock the door behind us. There are always my uncle's men around, even when it looks like the place is empty. They are always somewhere. I just hope no one sees us, because this wouldn't go down well with anyone, taking her out like this. I hold her gaze and she nods in understanding, her bare feet silent as we descend the two flights of stairs.

Instead of outside, I take her to my room. She gives me a curious look when I point to the bed, but doesn't say anything. She takes a seat on the edge of it, leaning on her hands behind her while I turn around and grab some warmer clothes for her to wear. When I look back at her, she's looking around, her gaze touching every inch of the room.

I leave the clothes next to her on the bed, and look around as well, trying to see it through her eyes. Cold, and dark, and just . . . dead.

Finally, our eyes meet.

“I hate this room,” she says, keeping her voice down to a whisper. “It's not you at all. No wonder you're always brooding.”

I look down and purse my lips, trying not to smile.

She gets up on her knees on the bed. “Come here.”

She pulls me by the belt loops on my jeans, urging me to come closer. I don't resist the pull, and when I'm standing right in front of her she slides her hands upwards over my chest, and starts to unbutton my shirt when her fingers reach the top.

Not exactly what I had in mind when I brought her here. I put my hands over hers to stop them from going any further, glancing toward the door and trying to remember why this isn't a good idea.

The door is unlocked and anyone can come in, as unlikely as it is at this hour. Anyone could hear. My uncle is just down the hallway, sleeping in his room.

But most of all, I want to give her something, and show her I'm not a monster who only takes and takes and takes from her, and never gives anything back. I know she's dying of boredom and silence in that room.

My fingers tighten around her wrists, halting their path, but that doesn't stop her mouth from crushing mine. Her wet tongue teases my lips, trying to convince me to forget everything around us and just let myself go.

She moves away from my mouth and trails kisses along my jaw, her hot breath tickling my skin whenever she pulls away. By the time she reaches my ear, my resistance is all but crumbling.

This woman is dangerous.

“I want you to fuck me in your bed,” she whispers, and then bites down on my earlobe.

As if there's anything that would stop me right now. My jeans are already too tight against my hard-on as it is.

I grab the collar of her T-shirt and just rip it off her, exposing her perfect breasts. She gasps in surprise, and then moans as I take her nipple into my mouth and lightly bite on it. Her back arches, and she presses herself into my mouth as I lick and suck and bite her other nipple.

Placing a hand flat on her stomach, I lay her on the bed. She lifts her hips when I pull off her shorts, taking the underwear with it. I kiss my way up the inside of her thigh until I finally reach her core, already wet for me. I look up at her, smiling at her ragged breathing, her stomach quivering in anticipation, and then I shake my head when I see her eyes closed.

I let my mouth hover over her clit. “You know I won't touch you until you look at me.”

She opens her eyes instantly and locks them to mine. The second my mouth latches onto her clit and my fingers find her entrance, her hands press at the back of my head, her fingers tangling in my hair and pulling on it. She tastes so fucking good. I wrap an arm around her thigh to keep her from writhing when I finally insert my finger inside of her and pull it out, then insert two and start sliding them in and out in a steady rhythm.

I feel her clench around me within minutes, and I quicken my pace to bring her over the edge, sucking and licking her clit. I lift my head as she rides her orgasm, her eyes holding mine.

When her body falls limp back onto the mattress, the only sound in the room is our breathing, hers ragged and mine heavy, because the erection in my jeans is at the point of being painful. My self-control is definitely at its limit; I'm just about ready to bury myself in her.

I pull my fingers out of her instead and then get up and sit on the bed, adjusting myself. I glance at her and take in her flushed cheeks, her teeth still biting on her lips to keep from screaming.

She's the personification of beauty.

Her hand finds mine and she tries to pull me down to her, but I bring her up to sit instead and take the clothes I laid out earlier. I pull the hoodie over her head, only to reveal her confused eyes when it's on her.