Come To Me (Owned 3) - Page 8

“It’s a party Vic—oh wait, it was a party, meaning we have fun.” Lennox took another sip of what looked like straight liquor and continued, “So lighten the fuck up.”

“What is wrong with you?” I grabbed her arm, pulling her toward me. I had such a strong urge to shake her, to pull her out of whatever fugue she was in. We used to fight hard, but then we fucked harder.

Now we just fought.

And we cut.

And we bled.

But we couldn’t keep wounding each other without death.

“What is wrong with me?” Lenny dropped her drink to the ground, using her free hand to grasp my shirt. “I found a life insurance policy that will pay out millions if I die. Do I need to mention where I found that pol

icy Vic?”

I glared. “Should we do this in front of company?”

“If your head wasn’t so far up your ass you would notice that they’d already left.” I paused and looked around. The party had indeed moved out. The only people left were me and Lennox. I sighed, placed a hand to my temple, and tried to take a step back but Lenny kept her fist to my shirt. I raised a brow.

“You know what hurts the most?” she asked, releasing her grip. “That it wasn’t shocking. I found the policy and I wasn’t shocked. Do you have things hidden in the walls, too, Vic? Am I going to find skeletons beneath the layer of drywall?”

I folded my arms. “Of course not.”

“Don’t act like it’s such a ridiculous accusation, Vic!” Lenny bent down and picked up her empty glass. Dusting it off, she walked over to the bar, but not before waving back at me to say, “It is us we’re talking about.”

“So I have some things under the floor; it’s not as if you discovered the Rosetta Stone down there.”

Lenny scoffed and walked back to me, drink and policy in hand. “Then what the fuck is this, Vic?”

“You know what that is.”

“Why do you have it?”

“Why were you rifling through my stuff?”

“I wasn’t rifling. I tripped over the goddamn floorboard and your secrets came spilling out! I don’t even want to touch on the fact that you have shit hidden in the floorboards. It took enough of me to comprehend your secret Batman lair, but this? Why?”

I rubbed my temples. “Can we not today, Lennox?”

“It’s an insurance policy, Vic! It’s over a million dollars and it’s in my name! Why? Are you planning on killing me or something?”

“You got me.” I raised my hands in defeat. “This entire relationship is just an elaborate ruse.”

“You know what? Fuck you!” Lenny threw the papers on the floor. “Fuck you and your lies and manipulation. Fuck your secret lair and your secret life. Fuck all of this.” She turned around but I grabbed her and pushed her up against the wall, pinning her with one hand. Her drink tumbled to the ground, the glass making a clink against the hardwood.

“You think you’re the only one in this relationship getting mind fucked?” Lenny glared at my words, mouth pursed. “You’re not just in my head anymore, Lenny. You’re in my blood. You’re in my bones.” Her chest heaved and I felt it against my own. I felt her tits, I felt her stomach, I felt the way her body shook despite the way she kept her face calm. I felt everything, and it was driving me fucking insane.

I tightened my grip and arched my face over hers, ready to capture her lips with my own, when she spat in my face. Wiping the saliva off on her exposed neck, I did my best to hide the smile that played on my lips. The fire between us would burn us to damnation, but dammit if the heat didn’t feel good.

“Fuck you, Vic.” Lenny used her knee to try and shove me off but it just made me pin her harder. “Always thinking you can change the conversation with hot words and hotter hands.”

“Can’t I?” I shoved her harder against the wall, making sure to brand her belly with my cock. Her eyes hardened.

“You’re just a bully with a hard club.” I crushed my mouth against hers, silencing her next words. She bit at my lip, tugging hard enough to bruise and bleed. She made sure I tasted my own blood and she also made sure I was good and distracted before pushing me off.

We stared at one another, our breaths tumbling like rocks down a hillside. Our lips were marked with each other’s blood, our eyes in an unbroken stare as we waited…waited for something to give that neither of us wanted to let go.

Eventually Lenny looked away, heading back to the bar. She picked up the glass I’d knocked out of her hand on the way. I laughed, but there was nothing funny. When she turned back to me, she took a slow draught from the now very chipped glass and leaned against the kitchen counter.

Tags: Mary Catherine Gebhard Owned Romance
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