DECEIT (B723) by Hazel Grace (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📕

“I don’t care what you need.”

Yep, should’ve known better. 

Kace Bishop is not your normal red-blooded man who sees a pair of tits and wants to bend you over.

No, he’s a harder nut to crack. A closed-off and emotional disaster that opens up to cokeheads and old high school sweethearts.

“Then I don’t care about your questions,” I sass. “And you can get out of my fucking bedroom now. You’re little I’m bigger than you game isn’t going to work with me.” Then I make sure I’m looking him dead in the eyes when I finish with, “I’m not Camilla.”

“No, you’re not.” The grip around my wrist loosens as he looms closer. “You’re so much fucking worse.”

Those words should hurt, but they don’t. It means I meant something to him and my actions had the capacity of hurting. That maybe, after all this time, I finally know what feelings lie underneath him for me.

My lips curl into a mocking smile. “Aw, don’t you start lying to me now.” My mouth then sets in a fine line. “You know you still wanna fuck me.”

“Do I?” Bishop perks an interested brow. “Watch me walk away from you.”

He releases me, leaving me suddenly cold but able to breathe again. When he gets off the bed, the nagging guilt strikes again because he deserves the answer to his question.

He warrants them all and then some after what I put him through for over a solid month of believing I was dead.

Sitting up, I watch him look out my grimy window that leads out to the cracked cement road outside. His shoulders are tense from being so stressed from everything that’s transpired, and I’m only causing more to it.

“We’re still married,” I reveal, trying to mentally prepare myself for his next shitty comment. I pull my white comforter over my legs to keep me warm. “I never filed the divorce papers.”

“Why?” He doesn’t turn around. Maybe it’s easier for him not to look at me when I’m a living reminder of all the many things I did. Perhaps it’s because us still being married means something more than just a drunken night in Vegas.

“Because—“ I stretch my jaw against my fear of him rejecting me and clasp my hands tightly together. “—I couldn’t do it. I had them…and I just didn’t want to. I wasn’t ready for us to end.”

“With another man’s children.” He props his body by his forearm along the glass, peering down at the street. “You’re either some sort of fucked up, Emmy, or you have more secrets.”

“I think we both do.” He stays quiet, so I continue to do what I do best. I run my mouth. “I’ve loved you forever. I hoped that you’d one day feel the same for me, but you never gave me an inkling other than you liked to fuck me. You did small things, Bishop, but those three words set a whole other level to a woman. They make everything around her true. They shift her world and feel naively and stupidly safe in the relationship. I pushed and prodded, I practically begged you to open up to me, but I found your past…and I understood why. And I hated her for it. While, still then, I had hope. Then I got pregnant, we fought, I hoped and prayed the twins were yours, but why would I? If I had any luck, it’d kill me.” I snort at the irony. “So I killed myself.”

“Making a lot of bad choices,” he conveys. “Especially when you agreed to marry me.” He pushes off the window and pivots to my bedroom door. “Ledger is pissed. He wants a meeting with you at noon. Be at the office.”

Without even a glance, he leaves me the space, and an empty pang in my stomach begins to throb.

I said what I had to say and I don’t regret it—I can't. It’s time to turn a new chapter and be fearless.

I have to be.

I’m the mother of two babies who need me and I need them more than anything.

Raking my hands through my hair, I’m already cringing at how I’m going to meet with Ledger and how disappointed he’s going to look at me.

I can’t even fathom the things he’s going to say but I know I’m going to feel more regretful and damning than when I walked in.

I jump out of bed and stride to my kitchen, needing to keep my strength up for the next coming days because they’re gonna suck.

And I know Kyson is going to be there too to add on to the level of how much of a shithead I am.

A hand shoots out before I can even round the corner to the fridge and yanks me forward before slamming my spine into the refrigerator.

“You’re right, Emmy,” Bishop snarls above me, palming my ass then lifting me up in the air. “I do still wanna fuck you.”

His lips crash unforgivably into mine, knocking my skull into the freezer door on the way up his body, but I don’t give a shit.

This might be a coping mechanism for him to get past this trial of events, but if it’s this, I’ll endure it. Even if he truly wishes to be away from me and have nothing to do with our marriage.

Bishop bites punishingly down on my lower lip, causing me to gasp in surprise rather than pain. I can feel the marks from his teeth, and I break from the kiss, sucking in my injured flesh to soothe it away.

“Open up for me,” Bishop coos with venom spiked in his tone. His large palm cups my left cheek as he presses his forehead into mine. “You just did a moment ago.”

I release my lip and Bishop delves in for another kiss. His tongue swipes along the seam of my mouth, demanding access because, even though this is gentle, it’s the calm before the storm. It’s where he’s slowly working into unleashing every bit of fury