I Slept With The Wrong Bastard…

Rain.

I’m standing in the dimly lit aisle of a sex store and I’m going crazy. I push a shopping cart overflowing with glittery bath bombs and scented candles–my stuff. While Emma pushes a small basket filled with items that hum and buzz.

“I just can’t, Em! I can’t function!” I yank a stress ball shaped like a cartoon brain off a shelf and squeeze it hard. “It’s been…what, fourteen days? And every morning I wake up and realize I slept with my ex-boyfriend’s elder brother. Not just that, I had angry, vengeful, phenomenal sex with him!”

“He must have made your toes curl if you describe it as that.” She turns on a vibrator shaped like a lipstick, making a comment about needing a new one. Then she turns to me. “You’ve never for once called sex with Colt phenomenal.”

I nearly hurl the brain ball at her. “Stop joking around with my predicament. It’s wrong! It’s a violation of like, five different morality codes!”

Emma, still completely unfazed, holds up two bottles of creamy liquid. “Which lube should I get? Strawberry or peppermint?”

“I don’t care about the lube,” I whine, throwing the brain ball back onto the shelf.

“Be a supportive friend for once in your life. Support my sexuality,” she whines right back, pouting.

“I’m trying, Em, but I hate it. I hate that I did that! I hate that I felt justified! I hate that I can’t stop thinking about that penthouse and Rhysand–” I lean closer to her, dropping my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “fucks too well to just forget about it. That’s the worst part. It just makes everything worse.”

“Look, Rain,” she finally says, putting the peppermint bottle in her basket. “You got revenge and pleasure as a double combo. Colt is still reeling from it, so stop with the guilt complex. Rhysand is hot, available and you were drunk. See it as a win-win situation.”

“But he’s his brother! That’s the line! It’s messy! It’s unforgivable. What if he thinks I’m desperate? What if he thinks I’m chasing Colt’s attention? I just…I just wish I could forget it ever happened.”

“And so what if you slept with a hot stranger who turned out to be his elder brother? You didn’t even know he existed until that night. He served purpose well. If Colt feels disgruntled about that mistake, he can suck on that ginormous purple cock.”

Bubbling over with frustration, I grab a display item without looking. My fingers close around something smooth and firm. “I wish I could erase the whole stupid night and the way that man…” I trail off, confused on why Emma stands frozen in time.

Following her gaze, I find the devil himself standing behind me with a smirk equally as devilish. “Indeed.” His eyes drop for one second to my hands before coming back up.

My blood freeze at the way he’s just casually leaning against the shelving unit at the end of the aisle, wearing a fitted black t-shirt and has a basket of his own.

Emma clears her throat awkwardly, eyes drifting to the item in my grip.

Slowly, I look down to the item I am currently cradling in my hand. It is long purple cock, battery-operated and vibrating. It’s one of those models that move when you turn it on. I must have accidentally hit the switch.

I snatch my hand back, dropping the jerking, purple dildo back onto the shelf as if it just burned me. My cheeks are on fire.

“Rhysand? What are you…what are you doing here?” I stammer, my mind scrambling to sound dignified while standing in a sex toy store.

I feel the need to defend myself, to shimmy out of the humiliating situation. “I–” I choke on my words, then try again. “I was just h-holding that for Emma. She’s…she was looking at the new motor.”

Rhysand’s silver eyes narrow with amusement dancing in their depths. He takes slow strides closer, picking up the peppermint blue Emma just put in her basket.

“Indeed,” he says with that cocky look that makes me want to slap him. “It looks like you were conducting very serious quality control here.”

Emma’s phone begins to ring out of blue. She bumps my shoulder. “Urgent call. I’ll just take this basket and pay for the items. Gotta run, girl! You guys talk.”

She dashes off like her ass is on fire. And now I’m left standing in the middle of the aisle with the one person I don’t want to talk to in the whole world–the ex’s brother who’s been inside me.

Worse, he just caught me with that stupid jerking dildo which currently is still jerking on the shelf and I have no idea where the switch is.

The ground should swallow me whole right now.

Gathering the remaining shreds of my pride, I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re getting lubricants?” I demand, motioning to his basket. “Are you just trying to prove you’re a creep?”

He ignores the jab, grabs the dildo and turns it off with a deft click. Then returns it back carefully. “I’m looking for a gift, unlike some people,” he lets his eyes roam over the abandoned buzzing toys which Emma abandoned.

“Whatever. What do you want this time?”

He doesn’t answer me straight away. “I prefer the real thing. I’m starting to think you’re ignoring my calls because these things are giving you pleasure that you could have gotten from me.” His stare bores into me now, that same heated look i’d seen in his eyes two weeks ago. “You know you only have to make one phone call.”

“I am not ignoring you,” I lie, pushing down the memory of his name flashing on my phone. “How the hell did you even get my number because I don’t remember you asking for it. Only a crazed stalker does things like that.”

He chuckles. “You should have thought about that before you used me to get revenge on your little boyfriend.”

And then it clicks in my head. “You bastard,” I seethe. “You knew I was your brother’s girlfriend and yet you led me on. The gall of you.”

The sides of his eyes crinkle, before he burst out laughing. “Put that blame back on Colt for hiding the fact that he has an elder brother and on you for not asking questions. Not like it was your fault anyway.”

“Asshole,” I mutter. “What do you want?”

“You. You don’t need the toys when you have the real deal standing before you in the flesh.”

“I don’t want the real thing. I regret the whole night, in case your eavesdropping didn’t catch that part.”

He leans in, his scent–a mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely his–hitting me. “You don’t regret it. You hate that you crave it. You hate that your careful moral lines are crossed because it felt good.”

My breath hitches. He’s right. I hate the sex, but I hate what I feel even more. It’s forbidden and crosses all the lines of my morality. I hate that I crave his touch when I absolutely shouldn’t.

He reaches out, his finger coming toward my cheek.

“Stop.” I slap his hand away hard. Letting him touch me again might unravel every hate I feel toward him. Not here with all these…items. Not ever again.

“I’m going home. You should do the same. And stop…thinking about me.”

“Hear me, Rain,” he grips my hand before I can turn. “You walked into my life. That was your choice. I’m afraid walking out is no longer an option.”

“What are you—”

“I don’t play games, is all I want to say, and I will never lose what I decide is mine. You will try to run and you will try to hate me…”

The truth in his words burn deeply into me as he tilts up my chin slightly, forcing me to meet the power of his eyes.

“And every time, I will find you and bring you back.” The rough pad of his thumb strokes the skin next to my ear as his stare grows intense. “I can’t let you go, Rain. Not now. Not when we are old and they put us both in the earth. You are mine until the grave closes over us both.”

It takes every will I have to break out of the power of his hypnotic words. Turning on my heel, I practically run out of the store, leaving him standing alone in the aisle.

***

I cross the threshold of my apartment a few minutes later, relieved to be home. The relief lasts less than a second when the atmosphere shifts.

There’s someone else.

My blood runs cold when I catch the whiff of a signature cologne that can only belong to one man: Colt.

My purse drops to the floor.

Colt is standing in my living room by the window, hands in his pockets as he looks out at the city. He didn’t break in; he must have still had the spare key.

I make a mental note just then to have the locks changed and all his belongings sent back or burned. Still having a hard time deciding which.

“Surprise,” he says, dropping the sheer curtain and turning to me with a cruel, smug look on his face.

You’re so fucked, Rain. Fucked.