Page 57 of Devils' Day Party
“Maybe this is how I wanted to spend my Devils' Day, you narcissistic meathead?” I try to struggle, but Raz is strong, stronger than I care to admit. For the briefest of moments, fear spikes through me. We're in a remote area during the off-season. Maybe one of the neighbors will come up the drive. Maybe somebody will head down toward the lake.
But not likely.
I fling my body back as hard as I can, letting my head crash into Raz's face. His grip only tightens, and I end up flailing like a wild animal, scratching at his arms, kicking at his shins. He releases me but only briefly, giving me a moment to spin around before he shoves me into the front seat of the convertible.
Red streams from his nostrils and a split in his lip as he swipes a hand over his face and flicks the blood away, spattering the side of the car with crimson droplets. Teeth gritted, body quivering with rage, Raz comes toward me as I sit up, putting his hands on either side of the open door and leaning down until our faces are inches apart.
“If you weren't a woman, I'd beat the fuck out of you right now.”
“Don't let my gender stop you from being the total prick that I know you are deep down,” I snap right back, leaning in so close that I can feel his hot breath on my lips. “Do it, Raz. Punch me. See how it makes you feel. You've done all sorts of other things to me: locked me in cellars, caves, lockers. Poured acid from the chemistry lab on my lunch. Painted a red 'A' on the back of my gym uniform. Go ahead. Hit me.”
His jaw clenches so tight I actually feel sorry for his teeth. One of these days, he's going to crack one of those pearly whites his Daddy paid so much for. When he makes no move to touch me, I lift my own hands up to shove him back, but he grabs me by the wrists.
My tongue flicks out, teasing blood from his lower lip.
Knowing that tomorrow doesn't exist is making me reckless.
And … I can't help but love the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Raz's red eyes narrow and he shoves me back, climbing on top of me and kissing me with hot, bloodied lips. My black-and-red painted fingernails slide down the front of his shirt, tearing it open and sending buttons flying.
His tongue invades my mouth, as angry and aggressive as the erection I can feel straining against his slacks. He's so uninhibited compared to Calix—the only person I've ever slept with—and the contrast is startling. Whereas Calix feels like he's always on the verge of breaking, Raz is already snapped and unfettered, a wild devil raging in the light instead of sneaking in the shadows.
I dig the fingers of my left hand into his hair, careful to keep from knocking his mask off. I want him to wear it. It bumps against my own mask, but that's okay. We're not meant to be Raz and Karma in this moment. Instead, we're as savage and feral as any faerie creature hiding in the woods.
He pulls back from me abruptly, his shirt hanging open to reveal a smooth, muscular chest that belongs to a man and not a boy. This Raz Loveren is a bit different than the freshman kid that I first met. He's an undomesticated brute. Blood drips from his face to stain his shirt as I sit up, gasping, my skirt pushed up enough that he can see the black lace panties underneath. He gives them a good stare before moving across the gravel drive toward the creek.
I'm not letting him get away from me. Not today. Not in this one of a million Devils' Days.
I head after Raz, shoving him from behind as he leans down to look into the cool waters of the creek. He plunges in with a splash, but he's quick, much quicker than me. Raz emerges from the water and spins, grabbing me by the ankle and yanking me forward and into the creek beside him.
The water is so cold that my teeth are chattering before I even come up for air. Raz doesn't let me get that far, shoving my head back down. I end up sucking in water and panicking, but he doesn't hold me under, and I come up a second later, gasping and sputtering.
“Are you crazy?!” I shout as he climbs out, shivering and spitting blood and ice water on the grass. Raz pushes up to his feet and turns a look of pure fury on me. He can't hide the bulge in his wet slacks or the pebbled points of his nipples as he strips off his shirt and chucks it into a wet heap on the brown grass.
