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Kit roughs his hair with his hand, the faintest groan catching in his throat. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous when you blush,” he says.
My gaze pirouettes around the room, taking in the traumatizing sight of Hayes’ wrists tied to the headboard and a blindfold over his eyes. Aeris, who I’ve grown to love like a sister, stands in a black corset, thong, thigh garter, and heels, wielding a shoe in her hand and huffing like she just ran a mile.
Aeris and my brother have been dating since September. Ironically, just like with Kit and me, it started with a secret. Or I guess a lie is a more appropriate word. Hayes made a questionable, alcohol-fueled decision one night, and he believed the only way he could better his image was to get into a relationship to show Reapers’ fans that he wasn’t the sleazeball everyone thought he was. Except his dumb ass didn’t tell Aeris their relationship was fake. But then, after a bunch of groveling and some pricey purchases, he earned her forgiveness. Now they’re living happily ever after together on
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So im gonna take a leap and guess they were the target couple of the first book on this searies, seeing as this is the second one?
Mouth, meet brain. Brain, meet mouth. Next time, get motor functions involved and just fast-walk out of there. You don’t need to explain. Just leave. When one encounters danger, one flees. One does not reveal bodily movements in a last-ditch effort.
roughly turn KJ in his stupid hat toward me, and clock him directly in the face. My knuckles ache to hit him again, gouts of blood already clinging to reddened skin—whether it’s mine or his, I have no idea. And I don’t care. His head snaps backwards, and even Zaven’s inhumanly fast reflexes can’t stop me from breaking cartilage in another unrestrained hit. There’s a nauseating squelch of bone and muscle, followed by panicked shouts whaling on me from all directions. Adrenaline blots every sound out. The only noises I can focus on are the blood echoing in my ears and the beat of my heart
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What I don’t hear is how difficult it is to be the one doing the heart breaking, secretly knowing it’s the last person you’d ever want to hurt. Knowing that you have to end things because they deserve better, or because they were simply the right person at the wrong time.