Bang(32)

He stubs his cigarette out in the tray on the coffee table and then stands, saying, “Not unless they prefer dick over *.”

“God, Pike,” I seethe as I fist my hair, and when I drop my hands to my sides, I tell him, “I’m so sick of fighting with you. It’s all we seem to do lately, and I’m done with it.”

“Perks of an older brother,” he says with a pompous smile.

Mumbling under my breath, “I guess,” I grip my hands on my hips and look over at him.

He stands there staring at me, and I can’t help but laugh at his demeanor, full of ego. “You really do drive me crazy,” I tell him.

“I know.”

With a shake of my head, I add, “And you need to stop doubting me. It pisses me off.”

“I know,” he repeats with surrender. “Come here.”

With a childish groan, I make my way over to him and stubbornly take his hug, and then tease, “Seriously, her cheap perfume is making my nose burn.”

“You’re so high and mighty now, huh? Don’t forget where you come from.”

“How could I?”

We stand there for a long while as I get the comfort from him that I’ve been missing since the last time I saw him before I finally speak again. “I have a good feeling about him, Pike.”

“Hmm.”

“He’s already falling. He doesn’t hide it well.”

“I worry about you,” he says, and I lean my head back to look at him, questioning, “Why?”

“Because I know how hard it is on you being with Bennett. I worry about how it’s going to affect you when you start adding this other guy in.”

I know that Pike is genuine in his feelings for me. We’re family, and I get that he worries. He always has. But I remind him, “Hard as steel, right?”

With a nod of his head, he keeps his arm around my shoulders as we walk back to his bedroom. It’s routine at this point—our sex. We do it every time I come and see him, reminding me of the one person I can trust in this world, the one person who has always taken care of me.

His pants are still unbuttoned, so with a tug, he drops them to his ankles and steps out. I lie back on the bed—the bed he just f*cked another girl in, but I couldn’t care less. My body is entirely worthless, so I give it freely without much thought. Undoing my pants, I watch as he pumps his dick a couple times, and when he reaches to check if I’m ready, he feels how dry I am. I want the sex with him, but most of the time, I struggle to get wet. It didn’t seem to be a problem when Declan felt me up the other night, but more often than not, I need a little help.

Pike pushes my knees wider and spits his saliva on me, wetting me, and runs his fingers through my folds to spread it. When I give him a nod, he holds himself and pushes inside of me. Pinching my eyes shut, I grip my arms around him as he f*cks me, clearing my head and wiping away the stains of Bennett, and now, Declan.





RETURNING HOME, CLARA is in the kitchen cooking. I unwrap the scarf from around my neck and walk over to the kitchen to greet her.

“Clara, hi,” I say as I look on the stove to see what she’s making.

“There you are. I feel like we keep missing each other.”

“Smells good,” I say, eyeing the skillet of beef stroganoff.

With a warm smile, she responds, “I figured you could use some comfort food with the nasty winter we’ve been having.”

I open the fridge to pull out ginger soda, saying, “It’s perfect. I haven’t eaten all day, actually.”

Turning to me, she spots my drink and asks, “Is your stomach upset?”

“A little.”

I always tend to feel a little queasy after my visits with Pike. The after sex blues followed by the upsetting goodbye. It tends to have this effect on my stomach when I leave, turning back into the emotionless machine I’ve been forced to become ever since I was a little kid.

“There’s a package from Mr. Vanderwal in the living room. It was delivered earlier today when you were out,” she says, and when I walk over, I see the large, white box wrapped in a gold satin ribbon.

My stomach churns, and I down another gulp of my ginger soda.

I pick up the lightweight box and untie the ribbon, letting it drop to the sides. Inside lies a masquerade mask. Black, laser-cut metal, which gives it an almost evil, seductive feel. The black, double-faced satin ties hang as I pick it up out of the box. It’s probably more perfect than anything I could have found on my own and that annoys me, the fact that he can be so good at nearly all he does. I look in the box for a note, but there isn’t one, so I turn and ask Clara, “Was there a note or anything with this?”

“No, dear,” she answers over her shoulder from the kitchen and then my cell rings.

Cringing when I see who the caller is, I answer with charm, “Jacqueline, hello.”

“Where have you been?” She’s huffy in her question.

“What do you mean?”

“Neiman’s? Shopping? Yesterday?”

I completely let it slip from my mind that I was supposed to meet the girls yesterday. I was so distracted with spending the night at the hotel and then hanging out with Declan that it didn’t occur to me that instead of being with him, I should have been at Neiman’s.