Wrath (Sinful Secrets, #4)

by Ella James

“Show me," he says. "Lie on your back.” “I would fucking never, dipshit.” “Because you’re hard enough to have a sword fight with that thing in your pants. I bet you lie in bed and think about me out here, right outside your window. Bet you sit inside and watch.”

"I would never think about you. You would never be my type."

“You know where all my scars are.

I can’t help seeing you. Since you

live in my house. You’ve got a scar on your neck that everyone can see.”

“Only if they...

“I hear you in there, working out every day. Almost as much as I am. Who’s it for, Millsy? Are you seeing your boy Arnie?” “Jealous?” “Of course not. I'm curious. I’d like to know how hard you get for me. I’d like to see sweet Mil...

“I don’t blush, but you do, dickhead. I saw your ears turn...

“Did it make you want to suc...

“Fuck ...

“That’s what yo...

Then he reaches down below my balls and cups them throug...

can't even fucking breathe, as he rolls them, then drags his hand up my erection, pressing with his palm then gripping, his hand wrapped around m...

I clock the stupid fuck so hard he almost falls off the roof.

The tip would taste like him and smell like him. Miller's cock would hurt my throat. I'd be choking as my lips sucked at his base, or tried to. Saliva would drip down my chin as I gagged on him, but it wouldn't matter. He'd be making noises, gripping my hair or my shoulders. He would be in my mouth, spilling his precum. I look down at my dick, pushing gently at my pants. It's just the slightest bulge—a sign of life. I want to die so that I never see it again. I think of sucking Miller off, pushing a finger into his hole. How he would jerk and clench, but then I'd push in deeper, and he'd moan so loud. I'd hear him groaning as I finger-fucked his sweet hole, guzzling his cum the whole time.

pull my knees up to my chest and rest my face against my quads. I rub a hand into my hair, trying to feel normal. I don’t. I’m not. I feel heavy. Even my heartbeat—heavy. Like it would rather stop than keep on going like this.

"C'mon, angel face. Let's get it movin'.

"Probably frenemies. Or stepfuckers."

"Not that kind of fuckers," I choke.

"Fuck off, Masters." "I thought I was angel." "I said angel face. And angry angel."

"I'm not angry."

"Are you hangry?"

"No."

He's breathing hard, and I can see the muscles of his abs flex. I jerk my eyes away.

"You should drink some water."

"Are you hot?" I ask. "What do you think, DG?"

"You need to get looked at. Seriously, dude." "What will they do for me?"

"I don't think you're supposed to sleep. Also—" "I'm not going."

"What am I supposed to tell your dad and my mom? Nothing? What if something happens to you?"

“What if something does?” He smiles weakly at me in the rear-view. "Nobody dies from a concussion, DG." "It's like...u...

“Hey, angel face.” I press my mouth into the crack between the door and door jam. “You okay in there?” I think I can hear him breathing. Then the sink is running. A minute or so later, he turns on the shower. “Tell me you’re okay, and I’ll fuck off.”

knock one more time, and then I open the door. I find him standing on the bathmat wearing nothing but a tan line. For a long second, I can’t even get my eyes to blink. He’s long and lean and built and…long. Jesus, he’s hung like a bull. I realize he’s scowling like one, too. “Take a picture, DG.”

“Or maybe you’d rather draw one.”

“I came in to check on you, you chickenshit.”

“I know that’s not true. As soon as you heard the shower, you were picking the lock to get an eyeful for your sketch collection.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” “I’d...

“What do you think, though? You’ve seen a lot o...

“Fuck you, Ezra.” “You been wanting to?”

“You look like you feel like shit.” “I don’t.” “You’re being stupid,” I say.

“You sound like a guy who wants to be outed.” “You sound like you’re scared of going. Do you have a phobia or something?” “Only of you sliding into my bed at night.”

“I’m not afraid of all the homos. Just the ones that come into the bathroom when I’m naked.”

“Yeah, I came in here to see you naked.”

“Did I pass your boner test?” “You’re...

Everything started in a bus, didn’t it? Buses ruined my life and then this bus drove me up here where I’m supposed to fix it.

He’s got on boxer briefs. I keep looking at the way they fit him, looking at him in the bed.

His briefs seem almost too tight in the moonlight streaming through his bedroom window. But I can’t tell for sure unless I move a little closer.

He sleeps without his shirt, so I can see he doesn’t have pudge. I can’t see his ribs one by one, the way I can still see mine, but he looks good and healthy. He’s got at least a four-pack happening, and his biceps are sturdy and strong. I wonder what it would feel like to touch him. If his skin would be soft. I look at his face and think of how he wanted that guy Arnie to touch it.

His lips are full, his cheekbones wide and high. His nose turns up a little at the tip. And he’s got freckles. One day, will he have a husband? What would that be like? He makes me hate him.

because I set an alarm for 2:30 a.m. so I could check on him, and I slept through it.

Awwww

grab a baseball bat I keep beside my dresser before bolting toward Ezra’s bedroom. By the time I get in there, he’s sobbing. Oh, fuck!