Sorrow (Cape Frost #1)

25

Turns out some men really do wake their women up with head — at least the bastards do. It’s difficult to stay objective and angry with Hayes when the first thing I feel every day is his tongue between my thighs.

“You’re cheating,” I mumble, out of breath as the smug asshole flops down next to me with a wide grin. “I’m still not a morning person.”

“Then why are you smiling?” he teases. “And blushing.”

If I ever stop blushing when someone is licking my cunt, I’ll be dead. “You’re hallucinating,” I lie. “I’m not doing either of those things.”

“Mmhm.” He wipes off his chin and licks his fingers clean, eyes locked on mine in a way that says he’ll let me get away with the lie this time. “You think Boo heard you? You moaned my name a little loud, Hurricane.”

“God, I hope not.” It’s only been three days since our little talk, but my brother still doesn’t know about this and I plan on keeping it that way for as long as possible. I don’t like lying to him, and despite the hoops Hayes jumped through to justify saying we’re in a real relationship, we’re fucking not. It feels gross to even consider saying we are. “Maybe if you’d stop begging me to say your name, that wouldn’t happen.”

“Begging?” He sits up abruptly like he has any type of argument there, and then slumps back down with a wave of his hand. “Begging is an excessive way to describe it.”

Only because he’s embarrassed.

Deciding to let it go, I lean over to kiss his cheek then get up to shower alone. I hear his disgruntled mumbling through the bathroom’s locked door and ignore it with a smile, right up until I remember the fact that I made a deal. Hayes is the only one allowed to clean me.

Fucker.

Begrudgingly, I unlock the door and swing it open with a mildly sarcastic smile. “Just kidding. Come in. ”

“You’re funny this morning.” How hard he smacks my ass definitely isn’t funny, but it makes my thighs clench in a way that’s impossible to hide. “Who knew orgasms would make you a comedian?”

“When they’re given by a clown, how could they not?”

Ahh, fuck. Sometimes I wish I had any respect for my own well-being, but apparently it’s not meant to be. Hayes grabs my chin so roughly it takes my breath away.

He doesn’t say a word until I’m cornered in the shower with my back against the wall, and even then, I can tell the flash of amusement he had is gone. “So you want to be disrespectful, Samara? Open your fucking mouth.”

I always push things too fucking far.

Oh well, it was funny.

Parting my lips, I slide my tongue out for him and remind myself he’s paying me a ton of money to be a good girl. I can do this.

The way he slowly spits into my mouth should turn me off. Hell, I should be slapping him in the face, but I’m surprised when my body reacts much differently than expected. “Don’t swallow it. Kneel.”

Yeah, I’m very okay with it .

Dropping down, I stay perfectly still as he turns the water on and the freezing cold liquid slaps against my back. I won’t move, won’t swallow, won’t react.

His cock is rock hard as he stares down at me, that rough hand wrapping around the base a second before he slaps my tongue with the head. The wet sound of his saliva makes him groan. “You’re lucky I love this pretty little mouth no matter what it’s doing. This is my favorite, though.”

He plays in his spit for a few seconds more then pushes all the way inside, choking me. The metal from his piercing is tangy and cold as it slips into my throat and completely cuts off my ability to speak — and the water rushing over my face makes it impossible to breathe.

I did call him a bastard, right?

“Fuck yeah,” he groans a little too loudly. “I don’t mind fucking the attitude out of you, girl.”

Hmph. He can try.

Gripping his thighs to keep myself steady, I close my eyes and focus on anything but how badly I need to breathe. The smooth tile below me, the thick hair on his legs, how soft my wet hair feels against my spine .

How wet I get from being used like this.

The sound of his hand slapping against the slick wall brings my attention back to him. “You goddamn hurricane,” he growls, sliding out to give me a second to breathe, but he’s back to using me before I can get my fill. “Suck me so fucking good now. Show me how wet you are.”

I’m fucking drowning, Hayes. You can’t see that I’m wet?

Deflating a little, I swipe my fingers over my messy pussy and wave them at him. I hate it when he’s right about things.

The dark chuckle he releases makes me shiver. “Good girl. You want my cum? Prove it.”

He keeps me caged under the water but lets my head go, giving me free reign to suck him how I please. Part of me wants to bite him, but the rest? Maybe it’s something primal in me, but I want to be a good girl. His good girl. So despite the burning in my nose when I inhale water, the ache in my jaw, the cramp in my leg and every ounce of logic I possess, I blow him like I’d rather drown right here for a chance to get his cum than pull off and breathe.

“Samara,” he moans, hips canting toward me in a way that tells me he can’t help it. “ Such a good little whore. This is all you. Some shit can’t be taught — fuck, I’m close.”

Thank god. My lungs are screaming at me to stop, to breathe, to save myself. But pain is what he’s after now, and I’ll never forget the way he sounded when he told me I was supposed to cry.

I’ll be damned before I disappoint.

Reaching up, I gently tug his balls as I open my eyes to meet his. I can’t really see him through the water, can’t hear him anymore, either. All I know is the pounding of my own heart, the desperation in my chest, and the slippery flood between my legs.

It’s enough. Whatever he sees, it’s enough.

His hands fly to the back of my head as his hips thrust forward once more so he’s buried inside, and when I feel his cock pulsing with his release, I realize I won’t be able to taste it this time.

This bastard is coming in my fucking lungs.

At least the poor things are getting something.

The second he relaxes even a little, I squirm out of his grip and do my best to stay alive. Breathing hurts now. My throat is so raw it feels like I’m drawing in pointy little ice picks instead of air, and my eyes and nose burn so badly I want to rip them off my face. “Fuck,” I hiss. “Add drowning to the list of ways I don’t want to die.”

“Not even if it’s with cum?” He helps me to my feet and lets me slump against him as I catch my breath. “You did good,” he praises. “Can’t even tell you were a virgin when you moved in here now.”

I was a virgin like four days ago, but whatever. “Now who’s the comedian?”

“Thought I was the clown.”

The way his jaw clenches tells me he still hasn’t let that one go, so I rock up on my toes to kiss the knot just below his ear.

“You’re not a clown, your feet aren’t big enough. It was just a joke.”

Snorting, Hayes starts cleaning my body with a shake of his head. “You’re on a roll today. You’re lucky it’s impossible to be mad right after a blowjob like that.”

My phone rings from the bedroom, making me jerk, but Hayes doesn’t let me get out. His grip tightens and his eyes tell me everything I need to know.

He’s the only one who matters right now .

My cheeks explode with heat when he deliberately slips his hand down to wash my pussy. Usually, he saves that for last. I guess he’s proving something. His lips claim mine possessively as he continues to bathe me without looking, borderline playing with me. It’s intimate enough that I gasp into his mouth and nearly beg him to just finish the job and make me come, I’m just aware I’m still being punished.

He proves it when he pulls away the second I allow myself to moan, and then he goes on cleaning the rest of me like I don’t look as desperate as I know I do.

Seems like he was serious about that whole control thing.

When he’s done, I take his washcloth from him and click my tongue. “I own you too, remember? My turn.”

Surprise flashes in his eyes before he drops his hands to allow me full access. “I didn’t think you’d care to.”

“Honestly? Neither did I.” Yet as I lose myself in circular, repetitive moments, I begin to understand why he likes it. It’s soothing, even for me. Like a thank you I don’t have to say out loud. It gives me a chance to trace the hard lines of muscle, the smooth expanse of skin. The body I tried so hard not to look at for so long.

It also gives me a chance to study his tattoos — the death-themed full sleeve on his right arm, the rib cage script of a Tennessee Williams quote. “‘The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks,’ ” I read aloud. “What does that mean to you?”

He runs his thumb along my bottom lip. “Maybe one day I’ll explain it better, but to give you the short answer from my perspective, it means that something soft can be just as powerful as something that might seem... unyielding. What’s your interpretation?”

I’m not clever enough to have a good one, or even something positive. “That if you put something, even something beautiful, where it doesn’t belong... it breaks everything around it.”

Like me.

Frowning, Hayes cradles my head to keep me from breaking his stare. “Who says they don’t belong?”

I do. This isn’t my home.

“I don’t know. It’s your tattoo,” I deflect. “Can we get out now? The water is getting cold.”

He releases me without a word and steps away, waving a hand toward the exit with that frown still on his face. “Tell me who called.”

Oh, right. My phone.

Drying off, I hesitate a few seconds before heading over to pick it up. My stomach sinks when I see the missed call. “It was Nate.”

He doesn’t even dry himself off before he wraps a towel around his waist and follows me. “The fuck does he want? Did he leave a voicemail?”

“Yeah, the transcription says he wants me to call him back. Fuck that.”

“Call him back.”

Shit.

Knowing better than to argue, I do it and pray he just doesn’t answer.

I’m not that lucky.

“Sammy?”

“Hi, Nate. You called?”

“Yeah. I—“ Hayes snatches the phone away to put it on speaker just in time for him to finish whatever the hell he was saying. “— it wasn’t supposed to happen like that, and I want you to know I broke up with her for you. ”

The dripping giant in front of me tilts his head in a way that tells me his brain just short circuited at Nate’s words, and when his jaw drops and nothing comes out, I know I have to respond.

Shit. What the fuck? “I... what? Why’d you do that?”

Nate’s quiet for a few seconds too long. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Your girl broke up with you, you mean?”

Nate scoffs. “Who the hell is this?”

I don’t know how to feel about the fact that he doesn’t even hesitate. “This is Hayes Sarro. Be real with her and tell her it took you days to reach out because you were hoping your ex would come back.”

“I was giving her space,” Nate counters. “Are you the asshole who claims he taught her shit? She still doesn’t know anything.”

Hayes surprises me when he laughs, but the coldness of it tells me he’s not actually amused. “That’s because she hated every second of you touching her, dumb fuck. You’ll never get the side of her I get, and that’s on you. Learn how to seduce a woman you lazy bitch, and lose her fucking number or I’ll come over there and personally delete it. ”

Jesus Christ. “Sorry, Nate. He’s right though, and I have to go. See you hopefully never.” I hang up before anything else can be said, feeling the rush of blood through my body.

This is real now, I guess. I belong to Hayes. How did I get here?

In a daze, I pull on some clothes and push my wet hair behind my ears. “Satisfied?” I ask, turning to my fucking owner. “Or do you want to call him back and keep going?”

“You’re upset about that? Were you considering him again?”

No. Yes. I don’t fucking know. If I look too closely at it, I’ll have to admit that I’m desperate for a way out of this situation with Hayes. I don’t hate him anymore, no matter how badly I want to. And with him being all possessive and caring every day, I’m terrified I’m going to do something insane like fall in love with him.

The violets really do destroy the rocks.

“I’m not upset, I’m sorry. I think the last few months have just been a bit much for me and I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by all of it. Let’s just go make some breakfast before Boo wakes up, yeah? ”

He’s still standing there in a towel, but ultimately relents. “Alright. Wait for me before we walk out there.”

Still scowling, Hayes dresses himself in dark wash jeans and a San Francisco hoodie, then tosses another one my way before I can even think about the fact that I’m cold. I didn’t even realize.

We look like a couple in matching sweatshirts when he finally opens the door for us, making it worse when I see Boo leaning against the wall in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee.

“About time you two get — wait, why are you both wet? I only heard the shower once.”

If a sinkhole could open up and swallow me, that would be great.

“Can we talk?” Hayes moves to stand across from him and takes a breath. “I’m sure you have an idea of what it’s about, so I won’t draw this out. We’re together now.”

That’s one way to put it.

Boo looks as confused as I was. “The fuck do you mean, together? You hate each other.”

“Hate is a strong word,” Hayes argues. “Besides, we live together now. It’s only natural we all got closer, right?”

Boo squints at him. “I’ve lived with her my whole life and I’ve never thought about fucking her. Not even once.”

Oh my g— “Gross,” I interject. “He’s not my brother.”

“Well thank fuck for that,” Hayes says with a surprised laugh. “I don’t think these are comparable situations, bro. We didn’t plan it.”

He looks between us and only seems to squint harder. “Nah, you guys are fucking with me. There’s no way you two are suddenly all gooey for each other.”

I don’t know why, but that makes him frown. “Why’s it so hard to believe she might like me? Come here, Samara.”

He holds out a hand to beckon me forward, and I nearly don’t go. But this is the deal, and I’m making a good bit of money to sell it.

Walking forward, I take his hand and curl into his side while I stay silent.

“See.” He kisses the top of my head to sell it further, and I hate what it does to me. “Do you not approve?”

Boo is still staring at us like we’re aliens. “I approve just fine. You’re grown adults, I don’t give a shit what you do. I just don’t believe it. ”

“No?” He tilts my gaze up to meet his. “Tell Boo your favorite thing about me, baby.”

Fucking hell.

This is a nightmare, right? “Um... I like how observant he is.”

It’s not good enough and I know it, but I’m completely out of my element here. I can think of a thousand things and none of them are appropriate.

“Observant?” Boo asks incredulously. “The fuck?”

“You might not want to understand that one, Boo.” Hayes tugs on my hair. “I pay attention to her needs, let’s put it that way.”

Yeah, we’ll put it that way. Fuck me, I can’t think of a single thing to say that isn’t weird. “What’s your favorite thing about me?” I counter. “You’re not allowed to say my boobs.”

“Well then I got nothing,” he teases. “No, my favorite thing about you is your sass, believe it or not.”

I don’t think that helps Boo at all, but he seems past the point of asking questions.

“Whatever,” he mumbles. “Just don’t do weird shit in front of me.”

“You got it, Boo. Anything else? ”

He looks between us and I can tell he almost says no, but he doesn’t. Of course not. “Yeah. You serious about this, Hayes? That’s my little sister we’re talking about. You better be fucking serious.”

“I wouldn’t start something with a woman if I wasn’t serious. You know me.”

The way he meets my brother’s gaze looks so genuine I find myself speechless. What the hell does that even mean? Is it a little white lie, or is there more to this than I thought?

“Alright, man. Just take care of her. I rag on her a lot, but she’s good. She might be the last good thing in this goddamn town. Don’t take advantage of her.”

Well, shit. I didn’t know he felt like that. And the way Hayes reacts has me even more confused.

He reaches over and shakes his hand. “I won’t. I know what she is and I don’t plan on fucking it up.”

What the actual hell does that mean? Huffing, I try to keep a straight face. Is this what my life has become? Yeah. And it’s entirely, one hundred percent of my own making. I asked for it, begged for it. And now I get to live with the fact that I’m in a relationship with someone who will never love me, just like I wanted. It’s just a different face.

“Anyone hungry?” I ask, desperate to change the subject. “I’m gonna make eggs.”

They’re still doing their silent man-conversation thing as I turn to grab the pan, and I’m just glad I have a second to breathe.

It’s a new path, but the same thing all over again.

So I’m just gonna make eggs.