Cards of Love: The Devil (Devil's Playground #1)(44)

“For me there was.”

“Then you’re not half as smart as I thought you were, Mr. President.”

His features harden. “Gee thanks. You and Harvard have that in common I guess.”

I grit my teeth. “What I mean is, there are a hundred different paths to get to Harvard. Same goes for becoming a politician if that’s really what you want. Pick one and start walking.”

“It’s not that easy. My dad had everything planned for me. And now that I fucked—”

“Fuck him,” I shout. “Fuck your brother and Harvard too, for that matter.” I grab his jaw. “There are two types of people in this world, Cain. Those who are capable of greatness, but don’t bother trying. And those who still try even though they’re not capable of greatness.”

“But I did tr—”

“You’re neither,” I interject. “You’re the type of person who can do anything he sets his mind to and succeed.”

“You really think so?”

“You know I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” I lean my forehead against his. “Everything you want is already yours. All you have to do is reach out and take it.”

He draws in a breath. “I wish I could believe that, but I don’t see how. My life is over.”

“Your life isn’t over.” I run a finger down his thigh. “It’s just beginning.” Shifting, I plant a line of kisses down his back. “There’s a reason for all the bad shit we go through, man…something that will eventually make us realize it was all worth it in the end.”

He snorts. “You get that from a Hallmark card?”

“No, jackass. It’s how fate works. One event leads to another…and those events lead to the next event and so on and so forth. Then one day, you look back and connect the dots. Next thing you know, everything starts making sense.”

“I think Mrs. Miller’s fortune teller crap is starting to rub off on you.”

I bite his ass. “Yeah. Or maybe, just maybe…I’m a lot smarter than you give me credit for.”

His features twist. “Harvard was everything, Damien. My father’s connections are everything. There’s no way I can do this without him.”

I trail my lips down his ass. “Says who? Because the Cain Carter I know isn’t a fucking pussy. He takes what he wants. Show your dad you can do this without him. Because you can.”

His hips jerk. “I’ve never met anyone who believes…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “You…”

He moans when I slip my tongue between his cheeks. “Did you mean what you said before?”

I pause. “Yeah, you can do anything you—”

“No.” His voice drops down a few octaves. “Did you really want to kill him for me?”

“Not did. Do.”

“I’d never let you do that—”

I spread his cheeks and circle his asshole with my tongue.

“Fuck, that feels good.” He stretches, stuffing his hands under the pillow. “But if you were going to…how would you?”

“How would I kill your father?”

He nods, arching his ass into my face.

I think about this a moment before I give him my answer. “Easy.” I flick his puckered hole. “I’d make it look like an accident. Something that could never be traced back to me.”

He shudders when I repeat the movement. “Jesus.” Raising his ass higher, he looks up at me over his shoulder. “Like what?”

Smirking, I tease him again, this time, dipping my tongue inside. “I’d give him some sleeping pills.”

His eyes go hazy. “What makes you think he’d take them?”

“Everyone eats, right? I’d find a way to put it in his food.”

Groaning, I suck on the seam of his balls until he trembles.

“Then what would you do?”

Licking my finger, I push the tip of it into his hole. “I’d wait for him to fall asleep.”

He bucks into my finger and my heart accelerates. “Yeah?” His voice is a deep rasp. “Then what?”

I adjust my position on the bed, lining his ass up with my dick while I continue prepping him. “Well, before the pills, I would have re-wired an everyday household item...something simple…maybe a coffee maker or toaster. This way, they’d blame it on faulty wiring.”

“Blame what on faulty wiring?”

Slipping my finger out, I grab some lube on the nightstand and give my cock a languid stroke. “The fire that would kill him.”

Cain’s breathing hitches as I proceed to work my dick between his cheeks. “Why a fire?”

I groan when a pearlescent drop lands directly on his puckered hole. “Because they don’t leave much evidence behind…especially if you do it in the middle of the night. People are sleeping, so the neighbors are less likely to call the fire department, therefore there would be more damage. More damage usually equals less evidence.” I swirl my tip around the liquid, slowly working my cockhead in. “And since he’d be full of sleeping pills…he’d never make it out alive. Not unless someone tried to rescue him.”

Cain clenches the sheet in his hand, gasping for air. “Oh, fuck.”