The Perfect Fit
: Chapter 40

I stare at my monitor, a pencil gripped between my fingers so I can take notes, but the pages of numbers swim before my eyes. I can’t focus on anything other than how quickly everything has fallen apart. Lily isn’t who we believed she was. When I first heard Bree’s story, I was convinced that her jealousy drove her to cause trouble for us, but it turns out I’m not as good a judge of character as I thought.

It tracks that I was wrong about Lily this whole time. She’s been sleeping in our beds, letting us fuck her every single night, making us fall in love with her. All for a fucking story. She did say that nothing would ever stand in her way of becoming a writer, so I guess she didn’t lie about everything. The worst part about the whole mess is her involvement with the Constantines. I can hardly believe she’d crawl into bed with a pit of vicious snakes, but I saw the fucking proof with my own two eyes. My pencil snaps in my hand, snapping me from memories of Carmine Constantine—memories that are better off left in the past where they belong.

Lily startles, then smiles brightly when she comes out of the bathroom to replace me sitting on her bed. She is one hell of an actress. “I didn’t think you’d all be home until later.”

I narrow my eyes, searching her face for any hint at all that she knows we’re onto her. But what the fuck do I think I’m gonna replace? She played us all for months now. I’d admire her if I wasn’t so preoccupied with fighting the urge to wrap my hands around her throat and forcing her to tell me the truth. “Zeke and Xander aren’t back yet.”

Stepping closer, she bites her lip. “So we’re alone?”

My traitorous cock throbs. I need to get out of this room before I end up with a part of me inside her. “I have to work.”

I get up to walk out and she turns to the vanity. “You work too hard, West.”

The way she says it snaps something in me. Before I even know what I’m doing, I’m standing right behind her. “Yes, I do work hard, Lily. I have busted my ass for every single fucking thing I have.”

I sense that she’s about to ask what the hell’s gotten into me, but I don’t give her the chance. “Come here.” Wrapping my hand around her slender throat, I pull her back against my chest. Why shouldn’t I take what I want from the lying little bitch? She should suffer the way she’s made us suffer.

I yank her towel off with my free hand, and her breath hitches, causing her tits to jiggle. She eyes me in the mirror, her cheeks and chest flushed pink with arousal. Like anything about this is going to be about her. My hands fumble on my belt and zipper as the need to hate-fuck her surges through my veins.

She shivers, and I don’t know if it’s from fear or excitement. And I don’t fucking care. Finally freeing my aching cock, I kick her legs apart, spreading her open for me. With a tight grip on her throat, I drive inside her. A gasp tumbles from her juicy pink lips, and her eyes shutter closed. She places her hands on the vanity for support as I rail into her. Blinded by my rage, I drive into her with punishing thrusts and try to rid myself of all the anguish coursing through me. I want to hurt her. Make her suffer. Make her weep. Fucking make her bleed.

Except that I don’t. I can’t.

I slow my pace, and she sags against me, a soft groan tumbling from her lips. I run my nose over her neck and inhale her sweet scent. My cock pulses, and the desire to make her moan my name while I fill her with my cum consumes me. She has some kind of fucking hold on me that I can’t seem to break. I slide my free hand between her thighs and swirl my fingertips over her swollen clit.

“West,” she rasps. “I love you.”

My heart cracks open. Fucking liar. I rock my hips, driving deeper into her tight, hot cunt. “Why did you have to be so fucking perfect for us?” My instincts take over, and I get lost in the feel of her in my arms.

She’s too busy soaking me with her release and squeezing me like she’ll never let me go to answer. Fucking liar. As soon as the last drop of cum drips out of me, I pull out and zip up my pants, but her hand on my arm stops me before I can walk out. “Are you sleeping in here tonight?” She looks at me with eyes full of the emotion she just spoke of, and the pieces of my heart tremble, desperate to be pieced back together. If only the one person who held those pieces hadn’t turned out to be an illusion.

“I can’t. Too much to do before tomorrow.”

The look of disappointment that settles over her face appears so real that I almost buy it. “Well, I’m really looking forward to the launch.” She expertly trades her dejected expression for one of pride. “It’s so huge for you guys. It’s huge for the magazine.”

“Yeah. Huge. Get some sleep.”