Page 25 of The Dead Don't Talk
Swatting him away with a scowl, I collapse in the single chair at my wobbly table.
Which leaves my bed as the only other seating available and Amo just … helps himself. Moves my pillow to lean back against it. Burrows his ass beneath my blanket. Puts his fucking feet up and everything.
“Aren’t people asking you what the fuck you’re doing outside the gate?” I ask with an air of warning I hope he picks up at some point.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal that he’s on this side of the barricade without protection of any kind, plucks a pastry out, and begins to nibble. “Cassia’s my goodest friend—”
“Bestfriend.”
“—yeah that. But I already told her everything. She wants to meet Wilson, too.”
“You realize this isn’t someconjoined familiestype shit, right? No one’s meeting anyone. We fucked.Once. That’s it.”
His eye roll doesn’t hide the way his already too-soft hazel eyes crack the tiniest bit.
“But I like you,” he murmurs.
That makes one of us.
“Find someone your own age,” I growl low and scrub at my chin.
“They’re all straight.”
Doubtful.“Then the year above or below you. Try another girl. I don’t fucking know! Juststop bothering me.”
The way his face falls has my stomach turning painfully, and I jump to my feet.
This is why I don’t do this shit.
A wave of something sticky rolls around inside my gut as I pace the small space and shove my hand into my hair. I tug at the strands, relishing in the distraction of the slight sting.
“Fuck you, Moros,” he finally spits out through clenched teeth.
Pastries abandoned on my bed, Amo turns and walks out without another word.
It’s too late when it finally registers in my head to call after him, to stop him, the regret turning my stomach to rock as I watch his back disappear through the foliage surrounding my cabin.
My heart throbs inside my chest, the words I should have said collecting in my too-tight throat.
I fucked up. I shouldn’t have said it that way.
It’s not what I meant!
Despite my turmoil, my cock remains stiff in my pants. Leaking and begging forsomething.
So, with a curse, I lock the door and fall back in bed, and Idon’tsearch for his scent on my pillow or think of his tight virgin ass as I make myself come.
Swear, I don’t.
Chapter 10
Have a piece of me
Moros—another week later
He’s avoiding me.
Ignores me when he’s supposed to be practicing, which means listening to my instructions, and I can’t call him out on it in front of the other recruits without outing him. And myself.
