Page 96 of Bitter Lies

Shrinking under his censure, I will back the tears in my eyes, raging against it all in my head, but it’s this or he sees the video, and that’s so much worse. But it doesn’t stop me from wishing for things that can never be.

Strangely I’m reminded of my thoughts before, that I’d rather him see me as the pathetic girl he traded away for fifty bucks, and the irony is enough to curdle my damn stomach. I guess I got what I wanted regardless, but the victory is bitter fucking sour.

Opening my mouth to respond, he cuts me off once again. “But I don’t care.”

“Huh?” I ask, staring into his cool hazel eyes.

“I want you anyway,” he growls, stepping forward and pulling me into his arms.

I have no time to process his words before his mouth closes over mine, and he’s sucking my tongue between his lips. Bewildered, I stand stiffly in his arms until it penetrates, and I open under the assault, my veins immediately heating through.

I moan against him, as ever caught between what I should do and what I desire, which is oblivion. Standing on my tiptoes for a better angle, I close my eyes as tingles break out in my core, the rough motions against his erection sliding through me deliciously.

Without a word spoken between us, he lifts me and places me on the counter, spreading my legs and running the palm of his hand against my jeans-clad core.

“So sweet,” he murmurs, pulling my shorts down my legs.

Helplessly, I lean back, my feet on the counter, as he pushes my legs wide and kneels between them before licking me up and back down.

“Fuck, Griff,” I moan, to which he pauses but keeps going, and in the recesses of my mind, I realize I called him by the nickname I’ve refused to use for years, at least not without being snarky about it.

Clenching my thighs between his hands, he flicks his tongue inside me and fucks me heatedly. I buck against his face, riding him as I surge toward orgasm, but as soon as I reach the peak, he pulls back and stands, licking his shiny lips.

I sag against the counter in disappointment and go to pull away, but he stays me with a hand on my leg, dropping his shorts and palming his length with the other. My breath leaves me in a whoosh as I watch him tug on his brutal erection, precum beading deliciously at the tip.

“You want this?” he asks gruffly, and I raise my eyes to his.

His nostrils are flared, his mouth pulled back in a pleasurable grimace, but his eyes are determined, and I hesitate because I sense this is a punishment. When I don’t reply, he steps back, pushing and pulling on his dick while staring coldly into my eyes, and because I refused to beg, he brings himself to completion before stepping in to rub his pulsing dick over my clit.

Tingles shoot through me at the contact, and I arch, but he steps back, denying me as he sprays my core with his seed until he’s tugged the last bit of cum from his dick, and he steps away altogether.

Briefly, we stare at each other, his eyes boring into me fiercely before I drop mine, both disgustingly turned on and humiliated. Closing my legs, I hop from the counter and pull my shorts up with trembling fingers, refusing to look him in the eye while he stands there naked and sated.

Only when I step from the bathroom does he speak, in a strangled voice, “Grab your suit. We’re going up the road.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I rasp, my throat tight. Why? I don’t know, I should have expected this from the guy who continuously pushes me away.

Grabbing my arm, he pulls me around with a steely gaze and says, “You are. Get your shit.”

“Griffin,” I say, pulling away from his grasp. “Why?”

“Because it’s what I fucking want. Now go.”

Bewildered, I study his face before turning away because there are no answers beyond his icy-cold stare. Why?

And with some disappointment, I realize it would have been the perfect time to look through his room, too. Fuck.

Griffin’s waiting for me when I emerge, and with a dark smile, he turns so I can follow him down the stairs, where twenty or so people are piling into any available vehicle. But when I go to sit with a bunch of strangers, because I’d rather be anywhere than with him, he grabs my arm and deposits me in the front seat of his Suburban.

With a petulant frown, I stare out the window as a bunch of others squeeze in the back before Griffin pulls out and leads the caravan up the road. Trees fly by outside the window as we slowly climb the mountain, and after only a few minutes, we pull into a dirt road, ending at a cliff.

Sullenly, I sit in the car when the others exit, and for a moment, I think I’m going to get away with it as Griffin walks ahead, smiling at something one of his jerk friends says. But some chick shrieks out a laugh and grabs his arm, and he looks down at her before turning back to me, and with a single raised brow, he confirms his expectation.

Sighing, I exit and follow behind the masses, smiling halfheartedly when David sidles up next to me and says, “Hey, there you are. I was looking for you earlier.”

“Oh, um—”

“She was with me,” Griffin butts in to say, grabbing me up obnoxiously and pulling me under his shoulder. I walk stiffly in his embrace, all kinds of confused because Griffin hasn’t ever shown possession when it comes to me. Why now?

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