I took a deep drag, needing help to dull the blade of whatever disruption in the air was raising the hair on the back of my neck. Closing my eyes, I let my lungs fill, willing the drug to act fast as I exhaled. My head lightened as the smoke left me through my nose. Everything already blurred at the edges, taking on the hazy quality I’d been searching for. Dull. Empty. Lifeless. I didn’t want to feelheranymore.
It had been hours since she and that vampire piece of shit had gone downstairs to do God knows what. The pain of her choosing him over me yet again was enough to send me spiraling back into my old, familiar, self-destructive cycle.
Want her.
Crave her.
Touch her.
Crash and burn.
Repeat.
Over and over, one endless fucking loop of rejection. Good thing I was a masochist, because I couldn’t seem to get enough of Sunday’s brand of torture. No matter how much I willed myself to hate her, I couldn’t stop my wolf, that fucking traitor, from wanting her.
I flicked the butt of my smoke to the ground and crushed it under the sole of my boot before heading back insideIniquity’swalls. I needed a distraction. If she was going to move on, so was I.
A fae warrior made eye contact as I stormed down the alleyway but wisely stepped aside as I stalked past and into the club. Bodies writhed on the dance floor, but I ignored everyone, intent only on getting downstairs and losing myself. If the drugs couldn’t take the edge off, maybe a woman would.
“Kingston.” A sexy as sin voice brushed over me, stopping me in my pursuit of oblivion. I turned around to find Lilith Duval standing mere inches from me. “You don’t want to go down there, young wolf. She’s not—”
“This isn’t about her.”
“Oh, but it is. Deny it all you want, but you forget, I can see what your deepest desire is. Darling, it’s what I do. Trust me when I tell you, the last thing you need is to be near them right now.”
“She’s not mine.” Even as I said it, my wolf raged within me. He screamed that I was wrong. That shewasours.
Lilith pursed her lips, eyeing me thoughtfully. “Lying to yourself will never get you what you want.”
I snarled, my wolf too close to the surface to contain the reaction. “Just send two of your girls down to me. I’ll be at my table.”
“Something different this time, perhaps? I have a lovely blonde who just joined us. And you’ve never given a ginger the time of night. Or would you prefer the usual?”
“You know I’m only interested in brunettes.”
That was the only way I could get it up. By pretending it was Sunday grinding her ass on me, rubbing her tits in my face. Anything else disrupted my fantasy and made it impossible for my body to relax enough to respond to a woman it didn’t want.
“Make sure they smell like—”
“Lilacs. Of course.” She smirked.
Something twisted deep inside my chest, the weakness of wanting the girls to look likehernagging at me. I couldn’t live my life like this, always wanting someone I couldn’t have, but there was nothing to be done about it. At least, not until I could work her out of my system. Right now, this was what I needed. A Sunday Fallon detox.
Even as the thought sparked in my brain, it didn’t ring true. But I’d gotten this far on willful ignorance and stubborn perseverance. Why change now?
I slid into the corner booth I had frequented before Sunday disrupted my whole life again and waited for my companions for the night to join me. My gaze kept drifting to the darkened hallway that led to the private rooms.
She was in one of those withhim. What were they doing? What washedoing to her? I clenched my fists until my knuckles popped as I tried to drive away memories of her dominating me as we worked to find her wolf.
Fuck, but I’d loved that. I’d fucked my fist to the memory more times than I cared to admit. No one had ever bested me or my wolf, but I’d bared my throat and practically begged for more.
And now I was rock-hard and aching. Goddammit.
I’d never been turned on by the thought of a woman taking control of me or my pleasure, but when I pictured Sunday having her way with me, my cock started to weep. I was so fucking broken.
Two brunettes scented heavily with lilac approached me, momentarily distracting me from my torture session. They were all wrong. The perfume was cloying, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth even from a distance. Their rail-thin bodies lacked Sunday’s lush curves, and their hair was fucking fake. I sighed as they slid in on either side of the booth. It would be the only way to get some kind of relief. Pretending they were her.
“What do you want, baby?” one of them asked.