บททั้งหมดของ Crave Me; Big Brother: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Colt. Where the fuck is she? The dial tone is a rhythmic, mocking pulse in my ear. I press the end button and immediately hit redial, the motion so repetitive it’s become muscle memory. This is the twentieth time this morning. Rain is not answering. She vanished from the party last night like some childish bitch. No goodbye, no explanation, just left. I was thinking she wouldn’t dare after all she’s my loyal, predictable Rain. But she left me. And it sets my teeth on edge. Usually, she’s supposed to be lingering in my shadow, waiting for the crumb of attention no matter what Lila said. For her to walk away from my mansion without a word when I hadn’t given her fucking permission is a fucking grave offense. I know why she left. I’m not a fool. I know the way I ignored her for Lila sent a clear message, but I also know that Rain is a creature of habit. She should be here, apologizing for leaving, or at the very least, answering my fucking calls to explain her wher

Colt. I stare at the ceiling of this hospital room counting down the fucking hours until I finish my “surgery”. The air is thick with beeping sounds and the smell of bleach and fake lavender, that’s a sorry attempt at hiding the disgusting smell of sick people. I fucking hate hospitals and here I am all because of Rain. I shift slightly, and a sharp, satisfying twinge of pain radiates from my right shoulder. The injuries from my accident are real enough to keep my act real, but minor enough to be irrelevant. I can even move the fucking arm. But at the moment it’s wrapped in a heavy, professional-grade sling, and a thick wrap of bandage circles my forehead like a well deserved crown. To anyone walking through that door, I’m a man who has almost died. All in the name of “Love”. I should be laughing and patting myself on the back for pulling everything off so beautifully but I can’t shake the rage still twisting in my chest. The fucking nerve of Rain to blow me off f

Colt. The air in Rain’s apartment is different from the mansion. It’s smaller, warmer, and currently thick with a tension so sharp it could draw blood. Rhysand is standing by the door, his frame blocking the light, his jaw set in a line of pure, delicious fury. He’s been fuming since we left the hospital, a silent storm driving us home. At one point I thought he’d crash the car just to spite me but he took us home safely. A home where he has no fucking say. “I’m not comfortable with this, Rain,” Rhysand says, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He looks around the living room as if the very walls could catch fire. “Him sleeping here with you? He belongs in the hospital, or at the very least, his own estate where there are people actually qualified to handle... whatever this is.” I let out a soft, jagged wheeze from the sofa, shifting my weight just enough to make the springs squeak. I keep my eyes cast down, looking like a man too exhausted to defend himself. Rain like

Rain. Do I miss Rhysand? Long and short answer? Fuck. No. But I go two seconds and the thought wriggles its way back into my head. Do I miss Rhysand? I try to shove it out and focus. It’s stupid to think that. Sure I’ve been ignoring him for over a week. Sure at some point he’s stopped calling and texting me. His sudden silence a physical weight I can’t shake for the three days I’ve been at their family estate. Elena had bundled everyone back to her estate after that day, she refused to hear anything and insisted we’ll be better off where she can keep a proper eye on us and the maid Martha can help in taking care of Colt. I’ve followed along, happy to be included, happy that Colt is getting better and letting me drop kisses on his forehead. But the thought of Rhysand still find ways to spoil my happiness. But that doesn’t mean I miss him. That doesn’t mean I want to hear his voice, his deep laugh and see that annoying smirk on his face. I sigh, glancing at m

Rhysand. Our tongues meet in a heated dance, her soft moans vibrating against my mouth, sending a jolt straight to my cock. With my mouth still latched on hers, I lead her backward to the couch, guiding her with one hand on the small of her back while the other slides up her side, tracing the curve of her breast. I make sure we stay within the frame. I want the lighting to be perfect, every shadow, every gasp captured in high definition for our fucking audience. As I lower her onto the cushions, she blinks up at me with an expression that tells me she knows she shouldn’t be doing this. A flicker of caution crosses her face as I begin to loosen my belt. Her gaze strays down to my bulge, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but before long, I watch the need for pleasure override the caution. And I answer accordingly. Trailing my lips down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below her ear, drawing a sharp inhale from her. My hands slide under her shirt to car