Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

His hair was relaxed, the gel from the day about gone and laying across his temples so beautifully.

“What did I say?” he said in a low voice. “If you don’t come to me, I’ll come to you.”

He stared up at me, his arms resting on the chair, and I forced a scowl, despite the shot of excitement through my body at seeing him.

But he kept coming. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered. I shook my head, curling my fingers into fists. “But I’m getting really tired of you looking at me like that,” he said, his expression suddenly serious. “Like I can’t be trusted.”

“Menteuse,” she retorted, calling me a liar in French. “Qui c’est?” “Who’s who?” She jerked her chin behind me, and I whipped around to see Will standing in the doorway. Dammit. I told him to leave. But he just walked in, smiling gently. “Allô,” he said. “Je m’appelle Guillaume.” I gaped at him, hearing French spew out of his mouth like it was nothing. Guillaume was the French variant of William. Seriously?

She laughed, and that same smile that made him look like he was built for hugs spread across his face.

Un peu, my ass.

“I hope we didn’t wake you.” He looked thoughtful. “Your granddaughter was giving me the verbal beating I deserved. I apologize.” My heart pitter-pattered a little, but then my grandma laughed. “Perhaps deserved,” she said. “And perhaps she has my short temper.” I leveled her a look.

“That’s the thing about broken people, Guillaume. If we ever give you our heart, then you know that you deserve it.” Tears welled in me, but only for a moment. “He was patient with me,” she told him, a far-off look in her eyes. My grandfather. Long since passed, but they were well and truly in love. At least she was happy for a while. “Now go,” she told us, starting to put on her mask. “I’m tired.”

“I’m just…not a happy person, Will. And you’re right, I never will be.” Tears lodged in my throat, and I blinked long and hard to keep the tears away. I didn’t want to cry in front of him again. He stood there, still, only the beat of his heart pulsing through his body. “I’m not right for you,” I told him.

“Noted,” he replied coolly. “Now let me go.”

“You wanted your tie back,” I whispered. His back moved with each breath. “Keep it,” he told me. “Or throw it away.”

I leaned in, pressing myself into his back, and dropped the shirt, whispering up into his ear, “That’s too small, too. I told you, Will Grayson. We…don’t…fit.” He exhaled hard, looking over his shoulder. “There’s a part of you that’s my size, I’ll bet,” he teased.

I wanted him to know he deserved better. I wanted him to know that if I were someone else, I’d be his and I’d love him so good.

I tried to push Will away. “I have to answer it.” “Don’t.” He pulled me in tighter, kissing me softly as he rubbed his thumb around my nipple again and again. “Please.” I moaned, not wanting to let him go. “It’s my brother.” “And I’m your man now.” He took off the blindfold, looking up into my eyes. “And I’m asking you for tonight.”

He grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “Then let him.” He glared down at me. “I don’t give a shit. He won’t keep me away from you, so the sooner he knows the score, the better.”

But he didn’t. Pulling me in, he lifted me into his arms again and looked up into my eyes. “Look at me,” he said. I did, the softness in his voice making me forget my brother and my body for a moment. “I…” He trailed off, struggling for words. “I…like you.” It sounded like “I love you,” and my chin trembled. “I’ve liked you forever,” he said. “If you talk to him, the spell will break and the night will be over because you’re not the same in the sun. You’ll have all kinds of reasons again tomorrow about why I can’t have you. Stay with me tonight. Don’t talk to him. Don’t let anything between us tonight.”

I stood there for a minute, sick of the guilt and self-hate. I’d done it again. I was a bitter, condescending coward, and hopefully, he’d move on to someone like him. Happy and bubbly and…fun. At least I wouldn’t be at Homecoming to see him enjoy someone else.

It wasn’t a truck—I don’t think. It wasn’t Will. And then I saw it. The glimmer of gold coming from the tree outside. It shook and jingled in the light breeze, the bronze chain draped over a branch that was empty before. I inched closer. What the hell was that?

She was sly. I’d give her that. Spending years getting the shit kicked out of her had taught her how to hide.

A piece of bread here, a wedge of cheese there. Some cheese cloth to wrap it up, as well as an orange and then some more bread. I fought not to smile, admiring how she deflected attention from the hand stealing food, to the hand reaching up to grab a plate or snatch a fork out of a drawer.

“She thinks I arranged to bring her here,” I told him. “And your pride hurts.” Yes. Right now, she thought I was still obsessed and small-minded, every moment we spent together vivid and tantalizing in my memory.

I was supposed to be somebody by now. I was supposed to make her regret not wanting me, and this was humiliating. She shouldn’t be here.

presence made everything harder. I was going to kill Michael when I got home. I was going to drench his fancy, fucking suit in his own blood for sending her here. “How did you know I was an architect?” Emmy suddenly asked. I shot my eyes to Aydin. He stared at her, looking confused. “The gift,” she reminded him. What gift? “I…didn’t,” he answered. “There’s not much to do here. Figured you’d enjoy drawing.”

Gazebos.” I forced a slight smirk, letting her know that I knew that she knew what I did to hers. She may not have deserved it, but… Okay, yeah, she kind of deserved it after she laid waste to my fucking heart. I wanted to break something of hers, too.

She half-smiled, looking around the room. “Think they’d mind if I cleaned the place up a bit?” “You already do.” She laughed, and I swore I saw a blush cross her cheeks. She continued drinking the broth, and I cocked my head, studying her. She was flushed. Why?

Emmy continued, “It’s an annual festival of sorts, but it basically boils down to local rich kids basking in the gloriousness of their privilege.” He laughed. “Yes, I know the type. Too stupid to set the bar higher because they’ve never been challenged.”

She stared up at me, her eyes piercing. “This is your life, and it’s not my fault,” she said in a hard but low voice. “Drugs and alcohol and more drugs and alcohol, mixed with how many women over the years?” And then she looked around the table, stopping on Micah first. “I know your story.” Then she flicked her gaze to Taylor. “And I can only assume you’re plagued by every vice in the book, judging from the leering and creep factor. What happened? Accidentally almost kill a girl when you kept the plastic bag on her head too long during sex?” She shook her head and gazed around at all of us. “You’re not monsters. You’re jokes.”

“You weren’t that fucking great,” I said. “You were a huge hassle that I indulged in for far too long.”

Her jaw flexed, and I gazed at her pretty little throat, my fingers humming with the urge to pin her to this table and eat her out until she screamed.

She stared at me, no longer responding. “She took care of me.” My voice dropped to nearly a whisper, and I didn’t care that she didn’t know who I was talking about. “She listened to me. Made me smile.” No movement. “Stood next to me,” I gritted out. “Fit in with my friends. She’s smart, clever, resourceful, and she took the shitty hand life dealt her and still knows how to love people, unlike you.”

Alex

she shoved me hard in the chest. I stumbled and fell into the chair, and then she was on me—glaring down and squeezing my neck in her fist. I gasped, fully fucking hard now.

hurrying away, but I caught her. I took her in my arms, hearing her squeal as I pressed my chest into her back. I forced her into the darkened doorway of the drawing room and reached around, taking her jaw in my hand. She tried to wriggle out of my hold, but I didn’t give a shit if she drew blood or ripped out my throat. I was seeing this through. I had questions. Like why didn’t she tell me what was happening at home? Or why couldn’t she trust me? I was patient. I would’ve understood. I wouldn’t have disappointed her.

He wasn’t. Rory was the dominant one, and Micah loved every second of it because all he wanted was love. I was like that. Emmy was like Rory. Perfect for me. When she let herself be.

“I never did that to you,” she retorted. I spun her around and slipped my hand straight down her fucking pants, diving into her cunt—hot and wet just like I knew it would be.

All my friends loved the control. Loved to hold them down and make them beg for it like Rika, Banks, and Winter were their toys. Not me.

She dominated me, and I didn’t want it any other way. In the classroom, in the library, in the movie theater, in my truck… Watching her cash in on my ass was better than actual sex.

And then I crashed down on her mouth, kissing, nibbling, sucking, and tugging her sweet flesh and hearing a moan escape before she tried to push me away again. “I know you know how to take a beating,” I told her, whispering over her lips, “but this isn’t the kind you’re used to.”

and fell on top of her, ripping open her shirt before grabbing her bra between her tits and yanking with full force, hearing it tear apart, baring the golden skin of her beautiful breasts.

“Hit me,” I whispered over her lips before diving in to kiss her. “Hit me for all the tail I fucked after you. For all the nights I forgot about you, ridden to kingdom come by tits and ass ten times hotter than you.” “Ten?” she taunted me. “Really? Come on. You can afford hotter than that! Maybe twenty times hotter! Still got their numbers?”

I laughed bitterly, rising up and pulling down her pants, but she wasn’t wearing any panties, because I took those yesterday. I came back down, molding my mouth to hers and thrust against her. I glided my hands all over her body. God, she was so damn hot. “Damon was right.” She pushed at me. “You are smaller than him.”

yanking her ass down and diving into her pussy, covering it with my mouth. She cried out. “Will… Ah!”

I was not smaller. And I didn’t need reminding of how the hell she knew what he looked like naked.

Sucking and tugging, kissing and biting, I ate the bitch with no hesitation and no mercy. I licked up the sides, nibbling her skin and flicking her clit with my tongue as she squirmed under me, trying to crawl away. She gasped for breath, a sweet sweat glisten...

Then…moans filled the air, her body quivered, and her thighs fell wide as she lifted her head an...

Dipping back down, I slowed a bit, kissing her flesh and licking her before sticking my tongue inside, tasting her so warm and wet.

“Yeah,” she whimpered. I placed my hand on her stomach, feeling her shake and her breaths grow erratic. When she sucked in air, holding it, again and again, I knew she was right there. Aching and boiling with heat, I tore myself away and stood up, sweat cooling my brow. I wanted to bring her there. I didn’t want to ever stop. And the old me wouldn’t have. It took a moment to catch my breath as I stared down at her. She blinked a few times, opening her eyes when she realized I’d stopped. “Wha…” she breathed out. I leaned down, getting in her face. “When you’re ready for me to finish that,” I said. “You come to me.” She

“My bed is on the third floor.” I rose up, grabbing my jacket. “Come and ask me for it.”

That was the hardest fucking thing I’d ever had to do. Like harder than prison, detox, and the Doris Day double-feature at the drive-in my mother asked me to take her to when I was seventeen. Combined.

Will stood against the lockers, surrounded by his friends, his arms wrapped around Davinia Paley as he lifted her off the ground and stared into her eyes. She smiled at him. My heart sank, and my mouth went dry.