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I arch my neck as my world narrows to what he’s doing to me and how it feels. He’s gentle and sweet and exactly what I need right now. His cock hits sensitive places deep inside that make thought impossible while his fingers bring me higher and higher.

I cry out with the first waves of my orgasm.

I’m used to riding that edge for so long that I’m unprepared for how quickly he gets me off. He keeps fucking me. Keeps playing with my clit. Stretching out my release until my muscles start to melt.

If this is what he’s like when he’s being careful, what would an unhinged Kodiak be like?

He groans into my shoulder. “You’re tightening around my cock and it’s killing me. I’m not going to last much longer.”

“Then don’t.” I reach behind me to grip his ass. My nails dig into his flesh.

“Fucking hell.” He draws back and slams into me.

“Shit.” He stills. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please, Kodiak. You won’t hurt me.” He won’t. He’s the safest place I’ve ever known.

He seems to lose control at that. He fucks into me faster than before. Harder. The friction sends me hurtling into another orgasm. It rolls on and on while he pistons in and out of me.

“Fuck.” He shoves in deep as he can. His cock twitches when he comes. His thighs shake through it all. Like he can’t stop filling me with his cum. He kisses the top of my head. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” I’m glad he can’t see my face. I don’t know what he would find there. Now that it’s over, my injuries creep back in. Riot creeps back in. Why does it feel like I just did a bad thing? No, fuck that. I’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t deserve to feel bad for what he did to us when he slept with Sonatina. Or now, when he can’t even keep his word.

Kodiak removes the condom and discards it. Coming back to bed, he carefully positions himself around me. His arm, still over my waist, holds me pinned to his chest. “Night, Scary Girl.”

“Night.” I let my eyes drift shut, physically satisfied and finding comfort in the deepening rhythm of his breathing.

My phone screen going active lights up the dark. I inhale sharply. Instinctively, I know it’s Riot. Who else would it be when I finally decide to move on? Life is deliberately masochistic like that.

Let his call go to voicemail. There’s no excuse... no reason... there’s nothing he can say that will change things now.

4

Riot

If I could crawl out of my skin, I would have shed it by now. Phone to my ear, I stride to the railing of the private terrace. It overlooks the glittering lights of the Strip. I turn my back on the view and lift the blunt to my lips. All the pretty lights could go out and I wouldn’t care.

The only view I want is busted up and bruised in another hotel, and I can’t get to her tonight. But after Rook’s call earlier, I just want to hear her voice. “Come on, Little Vandal, pick up.”

I keep thinking about how easily it could have gone wrong. She could have vanished without a trace. Or worse... I envision her broken body lying on the concrete floor, the fire and attitude drained from her...

My chest tightens and I can’t breathe properly. My vision grows blurry. There’s a chasm so deep inside me at the idea of losing her. Weed isn’t helping calm me down tonight.

Please, Kelsey. I need you to talk to me.

The line rings and rings and rings before being diverted. Just like the last call. And the one before that.

I hang up and try again.

This time the call disconnects immediately.

“Fuck.” My knuckles are white around my phone, the urge to throw it is strong. I toss the roach into the ashtray instead. Kelsey hasn’t answered any of my calls since she ran from the stage after Sonatina fucking ambushed me.

It’s not at all surprising. I deserve her silence. But it’s killing me.

I would have been there if it wasn’t for Sonatina. Kelsey would have been with me, not in that damn garage alone. Marco wouldn’t have gotten to her.

Instead, I’m here. In this damn hotel suite. Pretending I’m freshly engaged for the benefit of the media. When all I want is to be there.