Page 47 of Twisted Little Game

Upstairs.

I could have taken care of this in the shower earlier and made this stupid fucking persistent hard-on go away, but instead I came downstairs and spent hours in that room with him.

“You said you wouldn’t follow me,” Tate says.

“I never, ever said anything close to that.”

“Fine. But you said I could leave.”

“You can, anytime you want. But I will be with you.”

He drinks another shot of my Cognac, straight from the goddamn bottle, then puts it down.

I lift an eyebrow at him as I reach for the dark brown bottle on the kitchen countertop, giving him a look.

“See? Everyone commits crimes.”

Tate watches me take a swig from the bottle now, and his eyes glance over my neck, my Adam’s apple as I swallow, then trail down lower to look at my chest.

Does he have to make it so fucking obvious he wants me?

Hates me, yes.

But wants me, all the same.

Because anyone who learns the truth about me knows that I’m only a good person on the outside, not the inside. I’m sure Tate thinks that now, too.

“You think I’m committing a crime?” he asks.

“You’re not allowed to drink. Not even twenty-one yet,” I tell him. “And look at you, with my Cognac on your tongue.”

“Fuck off,” he mutters.

I see a pink flush creep along his neck.

I didn’t bother putting on a shirt after I rinsed off upstairs in the shower and tossed on a pair of dark denim pants. He’s still giving me the same faraway look he has been all night.

And now it’s even more fucking inconvenient that his eyes are making me hard again, because now I’m at home, standing tall above him, and it’s so easy to picture now.

Bending him over the countertop, pushing my cock between his cheeks, forcing him open and fucking him so hard I’ll finally get it out of my goddamn mind.

Go away.

Burn it all to the ground.

My life, my past, and all of the things that separate me from the rest of the world.

I’ll start over and be someone else.

I should have lied to him in the car.

He didn’t need to know what my family is involved in, but he looked so scared I couldn’t bring myself to lie.

“Come outside with me,” I tell him, already taking off toward the doors to the backyard. “I need to give you your rules.”

“What?” he says behind me.

I step out into the evening air.