The Beast (Wicked Villains 4)

The thought leaves me both icy cold and agonizingly hot. I have to know. I can’t let them lock me out, not if this is really about me making a choice and not simply a form of penance.

I don’t allow myself the chance to brace. I simply gather the tattered remains of my courage and pad to the door and place my hand on the knob. That’s where my strength and anger fail me.

I can’t do it. I don’t know why I thought I could do it.

I turn from the door and walk out of the room.

Chapter 11

Gaeton

A shower isn’t enough to clean off the sick sensation coating my skin. I feel like I’m in the middle of a maelstrom, currents whipping me this way and that. I want Isabelle. I never stopped wanting Isabelle, even when every moment away from her drove me out of my mind with jealousy because I knew she was with Beast and he was giving her things I never could. That jealousy might be nowhere in evidence now, but it doesn’t change the history. There’s too much pain there, too many fuck-ups.

And Beast? That shit is not as simple as I’ve let myself believe. I’ve hated him and yet trusted him at my back for years. And all the questions of what if? that I haven’t let myself contemplate? I’m no closer to finding answers now than I was before agreeing to this. Last night he fucked me. This morning I sucked his cock. It’s one hell of a problem.

Not that I regret it. I don’t. But now that I know what he’s like in bed, I’m craving more. This was supposed to be us working through our shit with Isabelle. It wasn’t supposed to be us working through our shit with each other. Another complication I don’t want or need.

I never should have agreed to this.

I press my forehead to the cool tile and exhale. The sound almost masks the door opening. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Too fucking bad.”

Surprise snaps me out of it long enough to turn to face Beast. “You.”

He didn’t bother to put on pants before he came in here, and the sight of him naked throws me for another loop. We’ve participated in scenes together a few times over the last twelve months, but he always, always keeps his clothes on. Last night is the first time I’ve seen him naked.

I wish I could scrub the sight from my mind.

Scars rope his body from the neck down, as if whoever fucked him up couldn’t bear to mar the perfection of his face. Either someone tortured him at some point, or he’s been in more knife fights than I can count. Not to mention shot a few times for spice. His enemies left his penis alone, too, which might amuse me if I could dredge up anything but the sick feeling in my chest. The piercing at the head of his cock draws my attention, and it takes everything I have to drag my gaze up to his face. “This was a mistake.”

“Last night, I might have agreed with you. Now?” He shrugs. “We need this.”

“Which we, Beast? You and Isabelle? Me and you? Sure as fuck not me and Isabelle.” I’ve worked so fucking hard to keep my anger locked down. Damn near four hundred days of seeing Isabelle and keeping a polite face like I wasn’t dying inside. Of working next to Beast when half the time I want to wring his graceful neck and the other half of the time I’m forgetting myself and fantasizing about sucking his cock. “She was never going to pick me.”

There it is. The truth that’s eaten me alive since we decided to both date her. I never figured myself for a masochist, but I always am for this woman. I can’t do it anymore. I fucking won’t.

Beast gives me a long look and starts forward. I have six inches on him, but his presence dominates the space, driving me back a step before I catch myself and plant my feet. “What are you doing?”

“You missed a spot.” And then he’s in the shower with me. Too close, too fucking close. What the hell is he doing? He holds my gaze steadily. “Turn around.”

“This the part where you bash me over the head and toss me out a window?”

Beast smirks. “If you’re not brave enough to give me your back …”

“Reverse psychology doesn’t work on me.” But he keeps coming. Another step, we’re going to be chest to chest, cock to cock. I look at those sinfully curved lips and I may have wanted to kill this man more times than I can count in the past, but right now I really want to kiss him.

I turn around. It’s the lesser of two evils.