Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
That was rough, fast, and… he hasn’t moved.
“You can’t be,” he snarls into my lips. “No fucking way. Not even you would pull th…” He pulls out and eases his way into me again. As he pumps into me slowly, now it does burn.
“Baby…” His voice cracks. I grasp onto it. Because I need him to want me, love me, and when he calls me that, I know he does. I blink the water out of my eyes so I can see his face as he thrusts inside me. “Tight,” he grunts then closes his eyes shutting me out.
“Fuck you, Dolly. Fuck you for this.”
Gone is any part of the Edge that I wanted. But that doesn’t matter. What matters are his vicious words. So, I close my eyes because he can’t hurt me if I don’t look at him.
He’s quick. Not even trying to make it last, his body jerks and he’s done. I try to keep my legs wrapped around him. It can’t end like this.
Edge’s lips remain on my forehead, his hard breathing making me alert. Like an annoying alarm clock when you forget to turn the snooze button off—that’s what’s happening in my brain.
I can feel him. Feel he’s holding back his pain, rage, all the shit that is us.
Then he rips me open, and this pain is way worse than him taking my virginity as he says, “You kill me. How many times are you going to break my heart?”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. Drops of water, or maybe tears, drip down our faces as my legs unlock from around him. I want him out of me. All at once, I’m filled with shame. Why try to defend myself? He’s making me the villain again, which is absurd since I gave him everything and he’s acting like I poisoned him.
“I wanted…” I stop talking when what I see in his eyes makes me shiver.
He pulls out of me. “You should have told me.”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead. He doesn’t say more and leaves me propped against the tile shower, my vagina throbbing and body shaking. Why is he so angry? And how dare he say I broke his heart? I start to laugh. Otherwise, I’m going to freak and fuck that.
I grab a little bottle of shower gel, but in my anger, it slips out of my hands.
“Goddamn it.” I take a breath. It’s not the shower gel’s fault Edge is making me have guilt. I squirt some into my palm and inhale the vanilla scent. When I graduate, I’m going to fill my salon with luxurious things like this. Nothing but the best will be in my place.
I wash fast, getting more pissed by the second. This is the problem with all the Disciples. They always think they’re right. It’s their way or the highway.
“Screw that,” I mumble. I’m my own woman. I’ll make my own money. I don’t need Edge or my dad. Well, I will let my dad buy me the shop, but he owes me. It’s business.
I shut off the faucet so hard my wrist aches for a second. Whatever. It’s Doug and me against the world. Stepping out, I take a white folded towel, wrap it around me, and march out into the room.
EDGE
Eighteen years old
I don’t bother with a towel. She’s fucking unbelievable, a true plague on society. I shouldn’t be so upset about this because she means nothing to me… but then that would bring me down to her level. And I might be a lot of things, but a liar I’m not.
Gutted. That’s how I feel right now. Something I’ve dreamed about, that I believed I lost any chance of experiencing with her… she gives to me in the shower like a goddamn whore.
Actually, a whore has way more self-respect. I grab my jeans and pull them up not bothering to button them. I’m going back to bed after I smoke. I need to order room service and get drunk. I paid for this room; I’m going to enjoy it.
Grabbing my cigarettes, I step out on the balcony, which I left open last night. Clear blue skies greet me as I light up. The palm trees and the Hollywood Hills should make me happy. Instead, bile rises in the back of my throat. I inhale my cancer stick hoping to rid myself of the acid.
I need to try to reason with my mind. Sort through why she would do this.
I know her. Now I need to think like her. She’s different, but this… this hurt. Christ, we’re not good together.
Toxic.
It’s what comes to mind. Taking another long drag, I watch the red tip of my cigarette burn and wonder why she still has power over me.
Closing my eyes, I lean back against the railing and let the sun beat down on my face. All I fantasized about was being her first, wanting to believe so badly that she saved herself for me so I could teach her, make her mine.