TEN
ARROW paces the game room of the clubhouse, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I should be there with them.”
“Why aren’t you?” I ask, lifting the pool cue off the table after playing my shot.
He scoffs. “I’m not letting history repeat itself.”
He downs some Scotch. I almost want to tell him that if anything did happen right now, he’d be too drunk to do anything about it.
Instead, I bite my tongue.
Blade, one of the prospects, walks in and whispers something to Arrow, who nods. I haven’t really spoken to any of the three prospects, and they don’t seem too eager to get to know me either.
“Hello, Blade,” I say, trying to be friendly.
Blade looks to Arrow quickly, before nodding his head at me. “Anna.”
Arrow narrows his eyes on him. “Don’t you have work to do?”
I scowl at Arrow and speak as soon as Blade leaves the room. “You don’t have to be so rude.”
His answer is to drink some more.
Jill and Allie walk in, their own drinks in their hands, and stand on either side of Arrow. I don’t take my eyes off Allie, who I can tell is a little tipsy. But when she puts her hand on Arrow’s chest, I’ve had enough. I look at Arrow, and it’s him I speak to. “Get that whore’s hand off your chest right now, Arrow, before I break it.”
He glances down as if only just realizing Allie is touching him, then quickly shrugs off her hand. “The fuck,” he rumbles. “If you think I would ever touch a brother’s woman, you don’t fuckin’ know me at all. Now get out of here!” He looks at Jill and sneers, his upper lip curling. “Both of you.”
I swallow hard as they leave, then step forward to make my exit.
“Stay,” he demands, not even bothering to look at me.
He wants me to stay, by asking me like that and in that tone?
Riiiggghhht.
I storm past him and into my room. I’m about to close the door when he pushes himself inside. “You don’t know how to listen, do you?”
“I listen just fine, thank you. I just don’t see why the hell I have to listen to you. Now, I’m going to take a shower and go to bed, so I’m asking you kindly to fuck off.”
He blinks at me, and then I see his lip twitch.
It pisses me off even more.
“I really don’t see what’s so amusing,” I say, sitting on my bed and glaring up at him. Instead of storming out of my room as I’d hoped, he sits on the floor by my feet. “And do you talk to all women like that?”
I didn’t even like Allie or Jill, but still.
“Most women don’t talk back to me. I guess it amuses me that you do it at every turn,” he replies, pausing. “And I’d never talk to you like that, Anna, so no, I don’t talk to all women like that.”
He leans his head back on the mattress, and I can’t help but let my hand reach out and feel his hair. When he moans, I massage his scalp and continue to run my fingers through his thick, silky hair.
“Feels so good,” he says quietly, followed by a contented sigh. “What is it about you?”
“I could ask you the same question,” I mutter, continuing my administrations. “How much longer am I stuck here with you?”
“I’m not that bad,” he says, reaching his hand out and casually resting it on my thigh. My body tingles with just that simple touch, and I both want and don’t want him to reach his hand up higher.
“You’re not that good either,” I say, remembering our previous conversation.
“No, I guess I’m not. Tonight I will be though.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but when he gets up and lifts my blanket, sliding under my sheets, my eyes widen. “You can’t sleep here.”
He ignores me, trying to get comfortable. When he sits up and pulls off his T-shirt, my mouth waters and I decide that maybe he can sleep here. His body is perfectly cut and defined, and I get a flash of ripped abs before he pulls the sheet up to cover himself. I feel my nipples pebble, unable to get that image out of my head.
Holy shit, he’s a fine specimen.
“You going to sleep or just stand there with your mouth open all night? If you stay like that I might get ideas that will get both of us into shit,” he says in a husky voice. Is that his sex voice? Because I could get on board with that. I head to the bathroom, shower and brush my teeth, then change into my pajamas. When I walk back into the room Arrow is still awake and watching me. Am I really going to sleep next to him? My feet take me to the other side of the bed. I lift up the blanket and slide in next to him.
I guess that’s a yes.
“Your feet are fuckin’ cold,” he complains, but pulls me closer, into the safety of his arms. How am I supposed to sleep, being pressed up against him like this? His whole body is rock-hard, steel against my softness. I feel protected. Swallowed by his big body, wrapped in his strength.
I also feel more turned on than I ever remember feeling.
“Arrow?” I whisper.
“Sleep,” he replies, kissing the back of my head.
For once, I do as he says.
* * *
I wake up feeling warm and safe. When I open my eyes, the first things I see are two sleepy, smiling brown eyes staring at me.
I almost scream, quickly lifting my head up. “Arrow, what the hell?”
He smirks. “You look so cute when you sleep. And the little snoring sounds you make are—”
“I do not snore!” I reply indignantly, scooting away from him on the bed. I can see that he’s already had a shower: his hair is damp and I can smell his clean scent from here.
He pulls me back, right up against his body. “You do.”
“I don’t.”
“Darlin’,” he says, smiling. “You do.”
“Prove it,” I demand, sounding smug.
My eyes widen in horror as he says, “Okay,” and grabs his phone from the side table.
“Tell me you didn’t,” I groan, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow.
But he did.
I hear a soft snoring noise playing through the phone.
I turn my head to the side to look at him, giving him the dirtiest look I can fathom. “You just crossed a line.”
He laughs, eyes crinkling. “I wasn’t going to show anyone.”
“Not the point,” I grit out, trying to hide my embarrassment. Who wants to actually hear themselves snoring?
There is no way to make that shit cute.
Someone please kill me now.
“That is the point. You can trust me; I just wanted to annoy you a little. See, I’ll delete it,” he says, unable to hide a grin.
I go to grab the phone off him to delete it myself but instead end up pinned under him. Before I know what he’s about to do, before I can think of the consequences, his mouth is on mine, firm and demanding.
And perfect.
Better than I had imagined, and trust me, I had imagined a lot.
His lips are full and soft and his tongue knows exactly what it’s doing as it licks my own, tasting me. He tastes delicious, like strawberry candy.
It’s not just a kiss, it’s the kiss.
And I lose myself in it.
My arms wrap around his neck as I put my all into the kiss, showing him without words how much I’ve wanted him.
He grinds his pelvis into me and I feel his hardness, feel the size of his cock Faye was telling me about.
He’s huge.
And so hard.
I raise my hips up, wanting more friction. Arrow suddenly lifts his head, moving his mouth away, ignoring my noise of protest. He peers down at me, watching me through gentle, heavy-lidded eyes. He swallows, his throat working as his gaze lowers to my lips. He licks his own, as if wanting another taste.
I make a soft mewling noise and gently grab on to his beard, wanting him to come back to me.
Wanting more of what he’d given me. I knew he had so much more to give, and I wanted it. I wanted everything he had to offer. In this moment, nothing else mattered.
“Sweet Anna,” he murmurs, eyes still on my lips.
“Arrow—”
“I know,” he says, the two words sounding like they were pulled from his throat. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have kissed you. I was selfish, I just wanted another taste.”
Just a taste? Does that mean that it isn’t going to happen again? I don’t like that. Not one bit. He thinks he is selfish, but I want him to be. I want to yell at him.
Be selfish.
Be selfish!
I don’t care. To me, it is selfish to keep himself away from me, especially after that kiss.
“Arrow—”
“Fuck.”
Yes, please.
He gently pulls away from me then, and I don’t like it. His index finger grazes my cheek, a touch so soft that goose bumps appear on my skin. He exhales, his finger now running down my jawline. Then, he drops his hand and pushes off the bed, standing next to it and staring at me, indecision written all over his expression.
As for me, I feel confused. How could he feel what I just did and not want any more? Why is he pulling away from me? I’m not an expert on love, but I don’t think that a connection like this comes along every day. I’d never experienced it before, but then Arrow was older than me, and had loved before me. I knew he didn’t love me, but surely he felt at least lust?
His hands turn to fists at his sides.
Then I watch him, almost as if in slow motion, as he walks out of my room, closing the door behind him.
I stare at that door for what feels like an hour. I’m feeling hurt, lonely, and sexually frustrated as hell, not a good mix. Why do I keep going in deeper with him when I know it will always turn out like this? We both know nothing can happen, so why do we keep playing this game? It is almost like we come together whenever one of us gives in to their weakness, but then pull apart when that moment is over. It isn’t meant to be like that in a relationship, but that isn’t what we have, is it?
I take a long shower, ignoring my needy body. Bringing myself to orgasm wouldn’t satisfy me as much as Arrow could, so even though I’m tempted to let my fingers wander, I don’t. Instead, I brush my teeth and get ready for the day, all the while thinking about Arrow’s lips on mine. How could he just walk away? I know that I couldn’t have done it, especially as easily as he did. Does he not want me as much as I want him?
Anger fuels my next decision.
I leave my room in search of Arrow. I need an explanation, I need . . . something. Either we’re all in or all out. I can’t keep going on like this. I stop at his door and lift my hand to knock, but the door opens before my knuckles touch the wood.
Jill walks out, a satisfied smirk on her face.
My breath hitches and I try to keep my face from falling.
“He might be a little tired,” she whispers so only I can hear. I look behind her and see Arrow walk out of the bathroom as naked as the day he was born. For once, his beautiful body does nothing for me.
I feel nothing but pure pain and anger.
How. Dare. He.
I give him a look that shows him exactly what I think right now. I let the pain seep through my eyes, letting my guard down for a moment so he can feel what I’m feeling.
He flinches.
“Anna . . .” he says, reaching his hand out to me.
But I’m done.
I walk away in search of a distraction. When I find nothing, I get angrier.
When Arrow doesn’t come after me, I decide that I don’t need this shit. I don’t need to be stuck here in a club that isn’t mine, with people who care about me only because of who my brother is.
I don’t need him.
And I sure as hell don’t belong here.
I walk outside, and when I don’t see anyone, I smirk to myself. Everyone must still be sleeping—except Jill of course. Who knew whores were such early risers?
Darting my gaze around the exit, I walk briskly until I come to the fence. Making sure to lock it before I leave so no one else can get in, I slide outside and straight into freedom. I wouldn’t jeopardize anyone else in any way, and I wouldn’t take a chance with their safety. But as for me, I’m done.
D.O.N.E.
I walk up the street until I come to the main road. Sliding my phone out of my jeans, I call Lana.
“I’m escaping and I need someone to pick me up,” I say into the phone. I had messaged Lana and updated her on everything, the lockdown, Arrow, and why I was going to be missing in action. So she knows where I am, and why I’m here.
There’s a slight pause on the other end before she speaks. “Text me the name of the street you’re on.”
“Okay, ’bye.”
I hang up and text the name of the street, then press SEND. Phone in my hand, I look up at the sun in the sky. It’s a beautiful day and freedom never felt sweeter.
Who needs Arrow?
That was my last thought before everything went black.