Dead of Summer - Page 99

“Stop,” I breathe, trying to see his face in the dark. When his movements slow, I make a noise of derision in my throat and pull his face closer to mine. “Not that, you ass. Stop telling me about your fucking co-captain.”

“But you brought it up.” His voice is full of savage glee, and lightning illuminates his face to show me the look of delight on it. “You’re the one that asked. You were the one who looked me up.”

He has me there, and I whimper softly, burying my face deeper in my pillow as his hand slips around under me, fingers going back to tease at my clit.

I’m not going to last long when he’s so good at fucking me. He knows just what angle drives me crazy, and how I like it when he plays with my clit.

And he’s definitely aware of my newfound appreciation for his fingers around my throat. The storm seems to egg us on, getting louder and fiercer around us, though it might be all in my head. Especially when all I can do is focus on the feeling of his cock thrusting into me, his fingers on my clit, and the way he cuts off my air just when I need it the most.

Though I’m also trying to block out the words in my ears that he won’t stop hissing against me, as if he needs me to know how it happened.

I took a piece of glass, Summer.

The same one I used to kill my friend.

He begged me not to die.

I begged him to make it look good.

“There’s something wrong with you,” I choke out at last, from beneath his restricting fingers, just as my release swells and nearly breaks hard enough to send me into orbit. But even as I clench and shudder around him, falling apart on the next crash of thunder, I can’t miss the soft giggle in my ear as he slams into me once, twice, and then presses himself deep into me, fingers tightening in my throat and not letting go.

“I’ve got a pain in my sawdust,” Kayde croons in my ear, sending shivers down my spine as I remember the first time he’d said that to me. “That’s what’s the matter with me.” He punctuates it with a particularly sharp, although short, thrust that has me choking around his fingers.

“Something is wrong with my little inside…And I’m just as sick as can be.” He collapses onto his side, rolling me with him and keeping me pressed flush to him. Kayde repeats the words, and more that might be another verse of the song that never fails to freak me the fuck out when it comes from Kayde.

“Kayde…” I whine beneath his fingers, the echoes of my orgasm still rattling through me. “Please, I can’t—” He lets go just as I see black spots swimming in my vision, and I take a deep breath just as he drags me to his chest as close as he can, a peal of thunder making me shiver.

“I’ve got you, Summer,” he murmurs, as if part of the reason I’m shaking isn’t because of him and all the things he’d said.

“I’ve got you, baby. And I promise, I’ll never let you go.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

When I roll over and find Kayde gone, I’m not that surprised. Not when I remember him murmuring in my ear something to the effect of him leaving. Or kissing my cheek, my nose, and finally my lips as he’d pulled me close to him one last time.

The memories are foggy, but there. And at least he isn’t around to see the way my fingers trail over the pillow he’d commandeered for himself, or the way I close my eyes and take a deep breath once I’ve rolled over to bury my face in it.

I’m the only one around to know, and that makes the internal burn of shame a little more bearable.

Getting up makes me groan, and I wince at the soreness low in my body, stopping to splay my hand over my stomach with a sigh. Once again, Kayde had done a number on me. Though when I check my mirror, I see that the only bruises to be found are the ones on my hips from how tightly he’d held me while he’d fucked me into the mattress. Even my throat is unmarred today, and I wonder if he’d held back on purpose when he knows exactly how much it takes to leave a bruise.

Or he should, anyway. With how much practice he’d had a couple weeks ago.

My spine tingles, and a low simmering want makes itself known between my thighs. Mentally, I slap that part of myself and scrunch my face at my reflection. “No, down. Stay,” I tell myself, voice a little rough around the edges with sleep. “This is not the time to daydream about Kayde.” It’s never the time to daydream about him.

Especially after last night.

He’d killed someone after the crash. His words go through my head on repeat, even though I slam my eyes shut and wish I could beat them out of my ears and mind with a proverbial broom.

He begged me not to die.

I don’t understand how he can say stuff like that so easily. So…normally. Like it isn’t a big deal that he’d killed someone at seventeen. Someone he’d known, who had been his teammate. And from what I can see, Kayde doesn’t feel the least bit bad about it.

“God, Summer,” I tell my reflection, a frown touching my lips. “You’re so fucked. And not just the good kind of fucked. You are fucked, fucked. Like…” I wave my hands dismissively, blinking away the tiredness still dragging at me.

Kayde really is a problem, and now it’s looking like it’s one I won’t be getting rid of.

Do you even want to? The snotty little voice in my brain really should be put to death, or at the very least, into permanent exile. She’s not right, because I refuse to let her be. My hands flex at my sides, and I stare at myself for only a few more seconds before finding my clothes for the day and putting them on over my swimsuit.