Filthy Little Games

Ch. 14: The Replacement

EMERY

I snuck back to my room while Quin was still sleeping. I wanted to stay. I really did. I wanted to wake up in the comfort and warmth of his embrace. But I couldn't. If he woke up alone, perhaps he'd think last night was a dream. That I didn't cry in his arms. That I didn't show him just how truly broken I am.

It's not his job to fix me, to put the pieces back together, but I can't help it. Quinton brings out that side of me. A side that I prefer stays hidden. It's difficult though. One look into his dreamy blue eyes, and I melt. I lose control of my shields, my anchors, everything that keeps me together.

Falling apart should be terrifying, but with Quin, it almost feels safe.

As I head out the bedroom door to join everyone for breakfast, I sigh, flicking my gaze heavenward.

Safety never lasts long, does it?

"Well, good morning, Miss Jones," Damon coos, his arm wrapped tightly around Maya's waist as she offers me a sweet smile. "You look a little tired." He pouts, a knowing glow in his eyes. "Didn't sleep well?"

I subtly shake my head, scowling as my gaze darts to the various hickeys poking out from the turtleneck wrapped around Maya's neck. Her expression tightens and she adjusts the wooly fabric, averting her eyes to the hardwood floor.

"Can we talk?" My tone is clipped. "Alone?"

"Sure," Damon grins, giving Maya a lingering kiss on the cheek before sending her down the stairs. He crosses his arms. "Well? Talk."

I narrow my eyes at him. Cocky little fuck. "Not here." Glancing around at the various suites and doors on the floor, I stop at a sign that reads: Supply Closet. I don't need this conversation reaching the wrong set of ears. "Come here."

Pinching the sleeve of his pullover, I drag him to the unlocked closet and shove him inside, the automatic lights flickering on.

"Oh, I like this," Damon hums, brow perked up with lewd intentions. "Should I take my pants off now? Or...?" Gritting my teeth, I give a fairly powerful jab in the kidney. He winces. "Easy now, mami. Let me pick a safe word at least."

I cross my arms. "This isn't funny, Damon."

"I beg to differ," he coos. "I find this all quite entertaining."

"You need to stop," I say with unwavering conviction. "I know what you're trying to do, and you need to stop. It's gross, Damon. And it's unfair to Maya."

Damon can't rein in his smirk. It's so fucking big, I fear his face might spit in half. "Unfair to Maya?" He feigns ignorance. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I glower at him. "I understand that you're mad, Damon. That I've hurt you and you're trying to hurt me back. But using Maya as some sort of a revenge sex doll is not okay."

The last thing we need is another broken heart.

"Using her?" Damon scoffs, masking his true emotions. "Trust me, mami, Maya isn't complaining. If anything—" His dark gaze flits across my chest, and he licks his lips. "I'm not using her enough." His eyes flick up to mine, cold and dangerous. "I don't think this little intervention of yours has anything to do with Maya's feelings. I think that you—" He has the audacity to drag the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. And just like that, my body lights up. Bastard. "I think you're jealous—" His jaw ticks. "No. I know you're jealous. Because despite your best efforts to replace me..." This hand travels down my sweater, and so agonizingly slow, he caresses my stiff nipples. Fucking hell. "You know Quinton could never make you feel the way I do."