Chapter 52

The One With A Hint Of Revenge

A R I E L L E

I head into the bathroom, quickly washing my hands. The second I move to leave, something catches my eye in the mirror. It’s some sort of reflection of light coming from the tiny crack that’s exposed between the blinds and the window where moonlight is able to stream through.

I saunter to the window, confused. I try to nonchalantly peek through the spaces between the blinds without moving them and I swear that I can detect a slight bit of movement on the top of the hill at the back of Nate ‘s house.

“What are you doing?” Nate ‘s voice startles the absolute fuck out of me and I quite literally jump from it.

I clutch my chest as I spin to him and take a moment to breathe before I answer, “I think someone’s watching the house.”

“What?” He asks with a chuckle, thinking it’s a joke.

“I’m serious.” I try to peek again, but I can’t see anything. “Humour me, okay?”

He nods his head, “Sure.”

“I’m gonna’ go to the kitchen. When I tell you, turn on the bathroom light for like, half a minute and then turn it off.”

He doesn’t seem to understand what I’m getting at but agrees to do it.

When I’m in the kitchen, I position myself so that I can easily stare through the open curtains. I make sure that I’m hidden amongst darkness and at an angle where nobody can see me and then I yell at Nate to do what I asked.

Sure enough, the second he does so, there’s movement on the hilltop and then I spot the familiar glare of light that could only mean one thing—someone is lying up there with binoculars watching us.

Fucking Hayes.

I can’t explain how or why, but I just fucking know it’s him.

I know that Ezra and his people are fucked up, but I don’t think he’d spy on us to this degree. Yes, Langley was camped out on the street for weeks on end, but he never hid himself like this. This is sneaky, this is seriously invading our privacy.

It’s obsessive and there’s one man that used to be in my life that fits that bill to a T.

I carefully stay in the shadows as I walk to the island and in Hayes’ view. I fill a glass with water and drink from it as Nate approaches me from down the hallway. “Care to explain why I just wasted electricity?”

Wasted ele—it was a fucking switch on and off of a light.

Nate delicately touches my skin, pushing hair off my shoulder to press his lips to the back of my neck. Despite the rage coursing through my body, I keep calm, knowing that he’s watching us and not wanting to alert Hayes to the fact that I’m onto him.

“I noticed a glare in the mirror in the bathroom. Do not look Nate, but Hayes is up on the hill at the back of the house. He’s watching us with binoculars.” I smile, to keep up the ruse.

Nate tenses behind me, but I think he hides it well from what I can feel in the air around us. His grip tightens momentarily on my hips as he growls in my ear, “Are you fuckin’ serious? I ought to fuckin’ choke him.”

He continues to play along, dragging his hands up my sides and I giggle at the contact.

“I’d love to do the same,” I agree with him. “Know what’d hurt him even more?”

“What’s that, my love?”

“We could really give him a show,” I offer, pushing my hips back into his.

He smirks, I’m sure of it. “My girl is always bringin’ a gun to a knife fight, huh?”

I spin in his grasp, playfully shoving him. He stumbles a step back or two and I see that he is, in fact, smirking. Then again, he’s always down to torment the shit out of Hayes.

I sway my hips for him, sauntering to the pool table where I sit myself atop of it. I palm the felt, admiring the softness of it before I push the cue ball to the other side of the table, smirking as it rolls into the far pocket.

I feel like a predator playing with its prey. This is weirdly satisfying and I momentarily wonder if I have an exhibitionist kink, but I shake off the thought, knowing I’m only getting off on this because it’s hurting him.

So maybe I’m a sadist then.

“Are you sure?” Nate inquires and I glance down at his cock—semi-hard already from some late night morning wood—and then up to his eyes. He’s still got sleepy hair and eyes and it’s fucking adorable.

“Mhm,” I muse, “Fuck him.”

“Listen, I love fucking you—this circumstance is extra special ‘cause I fuckin’ hate him—but are you sure you possibly want a sex tape out?”

Would he be filming it? I don’t think so honestly. He’s such a mushy guy when it comes to sex that I doubt he’d want to watch me being fucked on loop.

Besides, I’m not really sure if I’d care too much about a sex tape. Sure, it’d be sort of released without my consent—I say sort of because I am doing this with the awareness that someone is watching and possibly filming—but I’m already so open about my sex life, confident in my body, and have a healthy relationship with the subject and everything involved with it that I honestly can’t see myself losing sleep over it.

“I have no shame, Nate.”

He leans towards me, palms flat against the top of the pool table on either side of my hips. “He’s already seen me naked,” I remind him and he rolls his eyes. “The question is: are you sure you’re okay with him seeing your dick?”

I bite down on my lip as my brain hilariously pictures the dicks of Nate and Hayes. I shouldn’t make comparisons because it’s “mean” but I mean, c’mon, I can’t stop my brain from doing what it’s going to do.

Plus, Hayes is just a fucking douche. I think after everything he’s done to me and is still doing to me, I’m allowed to be a bit mean.

“He might as well see what it’s like to actually give a woman pleasure, yeah?”

I smile, laughing, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull his mouth to mine. I kiss him a few times before pulling away and mouthing very obviously I love you as we separate.

“I love you and your savagery,” Nate informs me with a smile before his fingers grab the hem of his shirt and he slips the material from my body. He tosses the shirt carelessly across the room as he kisses me deeply, tongue sliding between my lips. His hand cups my jaw and I release a moan, mind racing with thoughts of the last time we interacted with this pool table.

The first time he fucked me, he bent me over this very table and the very thought of that is enough to get me fucking soaked.

I think he’s thinking the same thing because he mumbles a curse word and he brushes his now rock-hard cock against my leg as he adjusts to drag his mouth down my neck like he knows I love. He licks a strip upwards that follows my carotid artery and I wet my lips, fingers threading between his thick hair.

When he takes one of my nipple piercings into his mouth, I cry out and my back arches closer towards him. “Fuck me,” I whimper when his fingers follow the lines in my sternum tattoo and he focuses his skillful mouth on my other piercing.