Page 489 of Lessons in Cruelty

“Jesus—”

“Don’t.” She puts a hand, shaking her head. “Don’t get angry. Don’t think about revenge. Whatever shit is going on in your head, drop it.”

“But—”

“I mean it, Kai.” Her blue eyes are wide, insistent. “It’s in the past, and it’s fucking staying there. You kick up old shit, and it’s just gonna start stinking all over again.”

I scoff. “You think I’m going to let that sick fuck keep breathing after what you just told me?”

“I’m telling you to leave it alone.”

“And I’m telling you there’s no fucking way I can.”

Her mouth turns down at the corners as she slowly shakes her head.

“I don’t want to hate you,” she whispers mournfully. “But you make it so fucking easy.”

I study her, warring with myself. Bobby has been on my shitlist for years for the blatant neglect and casual misogyny he forced Haven to endure when she was a kid. I don’t even ask if she told him…because I don’t want to hear her admit that he probably knew and did nothing.

But this Lenny guy…

I don’t know what he looks like, which will make finding him and ending his pathetic life difficult.

But I can find Bobby.

And I can make him talk.

Lenny could be taking a dirt nap before midterms.

“Fine,” I grate. “I’ll leave the past in the fucking past.”

“Good. That’s where it belongs.” She snuggles in a little closer, and lets out a huff, her body finally relaxing.

“I enjoyed that,” she blurts out, sounding grumpy about it. “I want to do it again.”

My hand creeps between her thighs, but she smacks it away.

“Ow!”

“Really think I’m in the mood after what I just told you, you idiot?” As if to take the sting out of her words, she adds a softer, “Later. We have time.”

My heart hitches in my chest. Which is ridiculous, because why the fuck should I care if Haven wants to have sex with me again?

Because it’s Haven.

And it’s me.

I’ve gone from never wanting to let her out of my sight, to never wanting to see her again. And now? Straight back to an overwhelming urge to possess every inch of her until the end of time.

She makes as if to stand, but I tighten my grip around her middle, keeping her in place. Her tits bounce, and it’s a physical effort not to stare at them.

I grab her chin instead, and press my lips to hers. She immediately parts hers, letting my tongue slip into her mouth.

It’s just as hard not to push her back onto the sofa and go another round. But after what she just told me, it wouldn’t feel right. So I fill up on the sweet wetness of her warm mouth instead, drinking her down until I’m giddy with her taste.

“Promise me something,” I whisper when we finally break off the kiss.

“Maybe.” Her hand strokes my chest through the damp fabric of my hoodie like she’s tracing the contours of my pecs.