Page 116 of Deceptive Games
Why hadn’t I just told Caden to come and get me? I could’ve just said Slash had shown up drunk and I’d taken him home. It wasn’t like Slash was still drunk and would tell him why he was there in the first place.
The bathroom door opened and steam billowed out, my eyes immediately going to Slash’s wet, naked abs as he stepped out in a towel, seeming oblivious to my perving as he walked over and grabbed a cigarette for himself.
His broad chest had an eagle across it, the wings spanning his chest in a similar way to Lukas’ angel wings, and both his arms were covered in ink too. They had the same pattern down both, a mix of roses, dice, and scattered playing cards. The Psychos logo was on the inside of one of his forearms, seeming to be the only difference between them.
I noticed dates on his other inner forearm, but I didn’t get a good look before a knife appeared in front of me. Slash shook it a little, making me jerk back.
“If you want to stab me somewhere, here,” he joked.
“I don’t.”
“Then why are you looking for somewhere to inflict damage?” he asked dryly, lighting his cigarette and putting the knife on the table in front of me. I had no idea where he’d gotten it from.
“I’m not,” I said as I swallowed nervously, realizing that he was practically naked in front of me.
“Killer, stop looking at me like that,” he said quietly, stepping closer as I ran my eyes over him.
“I don’t know how to feel anymore,” I admitted, leaning forward to flick ash in the ashtray, blowing smoke up at him. “Why did you make me come?”
“I wanted you to like it. For a second, I forgot we hated each other and what I was doing. All I could feel was you,” he said honestly, putting his cigarette out and taking a step closer.
“For that second, I did like it, and I hate myself for that,” I forced out, swiping at my cheek as a stupid tear escaped. “I hate that part of me still wants you too. There’s no reason for thisattraction. You’ve never been nice to me, but there’s this pull I can’t ignore.”
“I feel it too,” he murmured, kneeling in front of me and taking my hand in both of his. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t get to be sorry,” I whispered, trying to push him back to stand, but he wouldn’t budge. “Slash?—”
“You’re under my skin and I don’t know why,” he said as he studied my face, not reacting as I smacked his bare chest.
“I want to go, so take me home.”
“Can you just stay for breakfast?”
“Why are you doing this? You’re making it worse,” I demanded, smacking his chest again, but then I was kissing him because I’d obviously lost my fucking mind.
His hand went to my hair to keep me close, and when I moaned into his mouth, he pushed me back onto the couch to kiss me harder.
“No,” he said suddenly and jerked back, my legs wrapping around him tightly when he tried to stand.
“Please,” I begged, tears falling from the inner battle I was having with myself. I shouldn’t want his hands on me, but he was all I could fucking think about.
Was this hate, or lust? I couldn’t tell the two apart when it came to this man.
“You don’t want this,” he said sharply, regret all over his face as he cupped the side of my face to wipe my tears with his thumb. “I can’t hurt you again.”
“We can hate each other again later, right?”
“You’re crying, Aurora.”
“You’re the last person that touched me,” I choked out, making him pause.
“You haven’t?—”
“What if it hurts and I freak out? What if they question me? What?—”
“Hey, you’re okay,” he murmured, leaning closer to kiss me softly this time.
My body heated as I ran my hands over his chest and abs, making him pull back just enough to look at me.
