The Anti-Hero (The Goode Brothers, #1)(21)

As I pull my mouth away, I smile. “Peaches. Because you taste so fucking sweet.”

She’s humming and moaning, husky and needy, as she hangs her ass in the air. “Please fuck me, Adam.”

“I’m not done yet,” I mutter. Then I take another bite, and she screams again.

She’s still shaking as I stand up behind her and pull my cock from my boxer briefs.

A nice guy would probably find a condom or at least ask her first. But I think we’ve already established that that’s not who I am or what she wants right now.

So I slide the head of my cock through the warm, wet lips of her cunt, teasing the entrance before thrusting in without mercy.

When she lets out a yelp, I thrust in rough again. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? Then, fucking take it.”

I slam in again, and her yelp, this time, is loud and slightly alarming. But then she murmurs a breathy, “Yes. Fuck me.”

Suddenly, I hear myself, and I can hardly believe what just came out of my mouth. I’m not like this. I’m fucking her like I want to hurt her, but she likes it, so I don’t stop. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Slamming my hips against her ass, I pull out and push back in, fucking her with brutal thrusts. And with each one, she pleads for more.

All thoughts disappear from my mind until all I know is sensation and the feel of her. Her body. Her sounds. Her touch.

Or is it mine? At the moment, I don’t exactly know the difference. Only that it feels so fucking good. Being inside her.

Letting go. Feeling freer than I’ve ever felt in my life. Almost as if fucking her is releasing the anger and rage I felt today.

Which I guess is why she needed it, and apparently, I did too.

Before long, my spine tenses and my dick tightens and I pull out just in time to watch my cum shoot out in warm jets all over her back. The noise that comes out of me as I let go sounds more animal than human. It sounds like a monster, but it feels like freedom.

For a long time, I stand here, waiting for every drop to release, watching her spine move with her breathing again.

Minutes go by while I wait for the shame to creep in.

“Get me a towel,” she says in a breathless command.

It feels like waking up as I go to the bathroom, not daring to look at my reflection in the mirror before I grab a towel off the rack, returning to wipe the mess from her back.

Then everything becomes quiet and awkward. I can’t quite tell if this is shame or disappointment with myself, but I stare at her as she pulls her clothes back on.

Was I too rough? Did she come? Did I do the right thing?

As I stare at her, pulling her pink hair into a ponytail and wiping the running makeup from her eyes, I realize that Sage and I truly are from two different worlds. We couldn’t be less compatible, and I’d be an even bigger asshole if I tried to pretend that it didn’t have anything to do with status and wealth. It has created two completely different people who will never see eye to eye.

“You can still stay,” she mumbles awkwardly as she moves toward her bedroom.

I clear my throat and zip up my pants. “Thanks, but I’m going to go.”

“Fine,” she mutters with her back to me.

“You’re…okay, right?” I ask, wanting to reach for her.

With a huff, she turns toward me with a sad smile. “Don’t try to be the nice guy now.”

I let my hands fall to my sides as I shrug. “I can’t help it.”

“Night, Adam,” she says, pinching her lips together and backing away, moving toward the door that leads to her bedroom.

“Night, Sage. Thanks again.” I awkwardly point to my nose.

Holding her arms crossed in front of her body, she lets her gaze linger on my face a moment, and I can tell there’s something heavy weighing on her mind. I wait for a moment before she finally mutters quietly.

“I wish there was a way we could make them both pay.”

A short huff escapes my lips.

“I’m not the revenge type,” I reply.

“It wouldn’t be revenge,” she says. Before disappearing through the door, she softly adds, “It would be atonement.”





Nine

Sage

M y dreams are filled with that word— atonement. Ringing through my sleeping mind. I just imagine myself full of rage and power, like a mastermind enacting some act of retribution for what’s been done, not only to me but also to Adam. The details are fuzzy, but I can tell that it feels good.

Roscoe wakes me up sometime around eight the next morning, actually in my bed too, which is strange. For a while, I just lie in bed and try to think about nothing, especially ignoring the fact that I cheated on Brett last night.

I should probably feel bad about that. I should…but I don’t. Not after the way he brushed me aside at the club, putting his VIPs before me. Leaving me to tend to a battered Adam in the parking lot. What the hell did he expect?

I guess that was my way of revenge, although it didn’t really affect Brett at all.

Before any guilt has the chance to creep in, I climb out of bed and shuffle into the kitchen.

As I’m making my coffee and feeding Roscoe, I keep replaying the events of last night in my mind. Everything from the argument with Brett in the office to the cartilage of Adam’s nose snapping back into place under my fingers.