me with red eyes that hide nothing. Calix is a locked box with a missing key, impossible to open or understand.
Raz is impossible to miss.
My hands curl around his biceps as I look up into his face, wondering when I decided that being vulnerable in front of my worst enemy was a good idea. At least he won't remember this tomorrow, I think, a mixed sense of relief and despair flooding me.
Tomorrow, I'll wake up and it'll be today again.
Raz will forget everything that’s happened, and I'll be alone in my memories.
Again.
His thumb flicks across the swollen nub of my clit, making my knees feel week. I lean back against the cutout in the surround, my ass pressed into the glass. Raz leans in, refusing to allow me any space at all as he puts his lips to my neck, tasting the hot water on my skin as he licks me, his lips hovering over my frantic pulse.
My eyes slide closed of their own accord as he plays with my body and tangles the strings of my heart. On the outside, I'm calm, if a little shaky, but on the inside, my emotions are like shattered bits of glass, cutting me even as I try my best to piece them together again.
“I hate you, Raz Loveren,” I moan as I let my head fall back against the wall, Raz's teeth grazing my skin before he bites down, sucking on that tender spot between my neck and shoulder, leaving his mark. He isn't shy about it, or overly cautious. He kisses and bites me in equal measures, and sometimes the latter hurts, but only for a brief second. Once the pain settles in, it's twice as intense as the pleasure of his kisses.
Almost like the dichotomy between love and hate.
“I hate you, too, Karma Sartain,” he growls, removing his fingers from my core and slapping my hand away when I go to reach for his cock. Raz grabs me by the upper arms and turns me toward the wall opposite the shower head, pushing me over so that my palms rest on the built-in bench seat. “Now, bend the hell over and let me fuck the loathing out of you.”
He grabs my hip hard with one hand, using the other to line himself up with my cunt. I bite my lower lip as I anticipate the forceful push of his cock between my folds. Instead, Raz teases my swollen body with his shaft, using the head of his dick to push against my clit. My knees quiver, and I end up putting one on the bench seat, lifting a hand up to press into the wall.
“Oh, that's even better,” Raz hisses, reaching around to cup one of my breasts and kneading the small pert mound with assertive, ambitious fingers. His touch is just this side of cruel as he tweaks my nipple, and I cry out. “You know, when you asked to be a part of the Knight Crew, I just about lost my shit. I was going to show you everything that you've been missing.”
I'm not entirely sure what Raz means with that statement, but it doesn't matter. My body is greedy, aching, and all I can think is: what's the timeline on this? At what point does my day stop—regardless of sleep or unconscious spells or deaths—and I wake up at the gas station again?
I'm not ready for this day to be over just yet.
“Why do you hate me so much?” I whisper as Raz moves his cock to my opening, hesitating briefly there and making me curse myself for asking a question like that in a time like this.
Instead of answering me, Raz thrusts in, balls-deep, a long, low groan of relief escaping him in a rush.
“Why are you so wet for me, Karma?” he asks, and I notice that he doesn't call me Trailer Park while he's fucking me. I'm glad. I'm not sure that I'd let him touch me if he kept calling me that. “If you hate me so much?”
It's my turn to ignore the questions, pushing my hips back against Raz's hot pelvis. He grabs onto me with one hand, holding me tight, fingers a punishing pressure against my overheated flesh. With the other, he grabs the long, purple strands of my hair, rubbing them between his fingertips before giving my hair a hard yank.
My cry is a mingled sound of pleasure and pain as he moves inside of me, working up fervid friction