Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(21)

"Lilah deserves better," Chance muttered, brow furrowing.

"She can go find it," I said, swallowing hard, wondering if I could get away with nuzzling back into his hips. "I'm done with—"

Chance scoffed. "Fucking course you are. Just when she started to look fucking excited. You are such trash, Ghost."

He meant it. He was right. Lilah deserved better. I was trash. Trash to women. To Chance too.

He knew as much, but he still opened the door.

Except this time, he didn't open it for you.

"Well?" Chance asked, eyebrow arching. "We both know why you came here."

I nodded and reached out, groping him through the thin fabric, pulling eagerly at his length.

"With your mouth," Chance ordered, using the fistful of my hair to tug me forward, my moan muffled as I pulled his shorts down and wrapped my mouth around his half-hard length.

This was mine. Chance was mine, in a weird and backward way. My real relief. The only person who knew me well enough, who had the sense to understand any of us well enough, to know what an actual dirtbag I was and to hate me for it. To want me in spite of it too.

I groaned, a purr in my chest, and sucked him deep, that clean flavor striking my tongue in earnest now.

Chance sighed as he grew hard on my tongue, his hand in my hair gentling, stroking down the side of my face. "The one fuckin' thing you're good for."

I sucked in agreement and relished the sight of him above me, chest heaving in desire at last, eyes glaring down.





I'd barely finished coming, my T-shirt wrapped around my cock, my face buried in Chance's mattress, when he pulled roughly out of my ass. I howled and my cock spurted again, the pain an uncomfortable but not unwelcome surprise.

I waited for his weight on the bed as I sagged, for his warm skin against my back. It never came. I rolled over, just in time to watch him step into the bathroom, water rushing in the shower a moment later.

I hissed as I pulled my shirt away from my wrung-out cock. My ass was still throbbing, the bruise of Chance's grip at the back of my neck still ached, and I was still high from coming a second time in a less than hour, forced out of me by the pound of his fucking.

And he was washing me off.

I stood, tried to find the dignity I didn't usually bother with—not in his company—and walked on weak legs to the open door of the bathroom. He hadn't taken off his shorts until he'd reached the tub. His head was down, water running over his back, hands braced against the wall.

"Didn't realize till just now, but I think I prefer you reaming my ass with a perfunctory cuddle after," I said, heading to join him under the water.

He looked up, pushing out from under the water, and I stopped. He wore the same warning stare now that he'd sported when I’d walked into his room.

There’d been some kind of ease between us when we were done lately. Comfortable touching. And Chance always looked…not happy, but…tired and unguarded.

Faint praise, I thought.

He looked tired now. And angry. And disgusted. But maybe not with me.

"I think I'm done with this," he said, the words echoing off cheap tile.

I stiffened. "What?"

He turned in profile, thrust his face into the water and scrubbed it with his hands, pushing back his hair as he stepped out again.

"I'm done. With the visits and the fucking."

"With me," I said.

Chance stared at me, and for probably the first time, I had the urge to…to not come crawling to him in need of being stepped on, but to try and be a fucking alpha. To be a bolster for him. He looked so fucking exhausted. But even in our limited frame of a relationship, I knew he would never want me playing that role.

Chance nodded slowly. "Yeah. With you. This."

I opened my mouth to ask why and then shut it again. Why wouldn't he be?

You're such trash.

I'd just taken for granted that he was fine with that. Wanted me.

A million familiar questions ran through my head. You're telling me this now? After? Why do you get to decide for both of us? You can't just cut me off.

It was a taste of my own medicine, and it went down bitter as acid as I swallowed.

"I think I would've rather you just…not opened the door the next time I knocked," I said, forcing out a laugh.

"That's you, not me," Chance said, glancing at me, turning off the water. "I'm asking you not to knock."

I narrowed my eyes, watching with a familiar sick hunger as he toweled off his body. A body I craved, had memorized the sight of, and yet had barely been allowed to explore.

"I'm trying to figure out how she factors into this," I said.

It was the wrong thing to say. Chance's stare returned to ice, and naked as he was, smaller and beta as he was, every muscle in him screamed threat as he stepped forward.

"She fucking doesn't. I'm sick of this, and I'm done. Now leave, Ghost."

And the truth of it was, threat or not, Chance didn't cow me. Not when I didn't want him to. I was in too much shock to move as he stepped forward, face growing red with anger when I didn't flinch. He wasn't powerless, but we weren't on even footing either. I could bark and I would win. We could fight and I would probably win, although neither one of us would be in good shape after.