“Is this for her?” I challenge, glancing up and meeting his feral stare.

Say yes, and I’m walking out of here with this.

He swallows, dropping one hand, but not the unnerving look he’s giving me. He tugs at the drawstring of my shorts. “Did you see me watching you when I was in the pool? When you were staring at me?”

“Yes,” I answer, hearing the sudden thickness in my throat distort my voice.

“Then don’t ask me stupid questions.” He flattens his palm against my stomach before sliding it down the front of my shorts and into my bikini bottoms.

Oh, fuck, yes.

I moan against his touch, blocking out the familiarity of it, and purely focusing on the thickness of his fingers. Shit, I’m soaked. Practically dripping. And I know it’s for him. There’s no other explanation for it. Pissed off, hungry Luke Evans can work my body into a frenzy, without even touching me.

But he is touching me.

When two fingers enter me and his thumb finds my clit, I drop my head back against the wood and my legs shake beneath me.

“Oh my God,” I whimper.

“Do I need to tell you what to do with that?” he asks, his voice laced with arrogance as he glances down at my hand that remains stagnant against his cock.

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“God, I fucking hate you.” I pull his cock free and wrap my hand around it, feeling him thicken in my palm. He grabs the back of my neck, tilting my head up to look at him as I stroke up his length.

“Yeah, I hate you too, babe,” he grits out, our faces a breath away from each other.

I ignore the sentiment and narrow in on my task, spreading the pre-cum around with my thumb as my entire body starts to burn up.

“Harder,” he growls. “Squeeze me, Tessa. You know what I like.”

I do. I know exactly what he likes. And I hate that I know it.

I grip him harder, pumping him faster, as he finger-fucks me against the door. I can’t look at him. He’s too close. His mouth is right there, and I know it’ll kill me if I taste him.

God, please don’t kiss me right now.

Clamping my eyes shut, I feel my skin flush as his thumb pulses against my clit. I’m so close to coming and I know he’s right there with me. He’s throbbing in my hand, moaning against my ear, and I could let this play out how we both want it to. Just a few more strokes, another slide of his fingers, and it’ll be over.

This will be over.

And I’ll regret every second of it.

“Stop,” I faintly plead. I sound weak. Pathetic. Crippled under his power over me. “Luke, stop.”

He doesn’t. He twists his wrist and curls his fingers inside me, and I know I need to act fast before it’s too late. Before I let him use me again. Because that’s all he ever did.

Lies. All of it. Every touch. Every word out of his mouth. This will mean nothing to him, and I’ll be the stupid girl that hoped for more.

I let his cock fall out of my hand and push against his chest, backing him off me.

“I said, stop!”

He stumbles back, gripping the base of his cock with the same hand that just worked me like some cheap whore. I tie my shorts and turn around, flinging the door open and stepping out into the hallway before he has a chance to say anything.

“God, you’re so sad, Tessa.” I run my hands up and around my neck, tightening my grip and mimicking the hold he just had on me as I move through the house. I dig my nails into my skin until it becomes unbearable, but at least it gives me another pain to focus on.

Shaking my hands out, and making sure I’m not giving away any indication as to what I just allowed to happen, I step back outside and spot everyone gathered around Mia as she opens her gifts. She’s through most of them, and now I feel even worse than I did seconds ago.

You’re such a shit. A weak, pathetic shit.

She smiles up at me as I step up to the table, and I know she sees it. She always sees my discomfort, even when I think I’m doing a damn good job at masking it.

“Where the hell have you been?” Reed asks me but I wave him off, focusing on Mia.

The door opens and Luke walks through, T-shirt on and keys in his hand.

“You leaving?” Ben asks.

He nods. “Yeah. I’ll see you Monday.” His eyes find mine, and I see every emotion I’m feeling in his face.

Anger. Hurt. Resentment. Regret.

I break the contact, watching as my best friend holds up a few bibs for everyone to see. I try to smile, but I can’t. I should be happy right now, celebrating the upcoming birth of my nephew, but I’m not. And I should be familiar with the ache I feel burning inside my chest. The overwhelming pain that has me biting back my tears.

But it feels raw.

Luke Evans has opened up another wound inside me.

And, right now, I just want to bleed out and die.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Twelve months of trying to forget about someone and all that hard work got shot to shit when I allow her to drag me into a bedroom. A closed off, secluded spot, where I damn well knew my struggles would be amplified. I could’ve protested. I could’ve pulled away from her and continued blatantly flirting with… Lucy? Lena? No. Fuck, whatever her name was. But I didn’t, because I knew what was coming. I knew I was pushing Tessa to her breaking point, and I fucking wanted to see that snap.

Because there is one thing that can make my dick go from six to midnight in a matter of seconds.

Tessa’s mouth.

And as soon as she opens it, and those filthy words come flying at me with enough force to knock a weaker man off balance, that’s it. I can challenge her all day, getting in her face and pretending that shit doesn’t get to me, but my cock says otherwise.

I’m prepared for it. I fucking know I’ll get hard the minute she lashes out, but what I’m not prepared for is her reaction to it.

I’d say she has bigger balls than me if I didn’t know every fucking detail of what she has between her legs.

She didn’t palm my dick and ask whom I was hard for. She demanded I tell her. And the combination of the ultimatum that had flashed in her eyes the moment that question slipped from her lips, and the feel of her hand against me was too much. She’d grabbed my cock like she fucking owned it, silently daring me to say she didn’t, and suddenly, I’d been the one at my breaking point.

It’s possible to hate someone, to look at them and wish you weren’t aware of their every move, and to want them more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

I hadn’t cared that we were in her parents’ house.

I hadn’t cared that I was about to fuck up any and all progress I’d made on getting this chick out of my system.

Her hand had been on my dick, and there was no way in hell I wasn’t touching her.

And fuck, the feel of her coating my fingers as I slid through the hottest pussy I’ve ever had, has me close to coming from a fucking hand-job in a matter of seconds. That, and the fact that no one has squeezed my dick like that since Tessa. No one. I’ve had mouths on me that don’t come anywhere close to her grip.

That’s a problem. And it’s making getting off on the feel of anyone else near impossible.

But in that moment, with my fingers deep inside her, I didn’t care about anyone else. She was right there, pulsing against me, so fucking close I could feel her heartbeat between her legs. She told me to stop but I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. I hated her but I needed this.




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