The Pain Of The Pleasure

FOUR - TOBIAS

SHE HAD NO IDEA. None at all. I watched her eat with her downcast gaze, staring at that ugly fucking birthmark on her cheek, until Nick kicked me under the table. I shot the bastard a glare as he gave a small shake of his head. She was just a kid, right?

I glanced at those perky little tits. No, not a kid. My cock grew hard as my anger grew.

Hate I understood. But seeing her like this, so damn small and meek, taking tiny bites of her pizza like she was a goddamn mouse, incited something dangerous inside me. Squeak, squeak, little thing. "Tobias." The sound of my name on her lips made me jerk.

I lifted my gaze to the woman who sat next to dad. "Yeah?" "I was just asking if you're enjoying Clarence. Business major, right?" she asked like it was every day conversation. "I'm not, actually," I answered. "Dropped out about two months ago." "What?"

Dad's head shot up, a smear of cheese grease on his lips as he scowled. "Since when did you make that decision?" "When I decided the last days I had with my mother were more important." Conversation halted. Caleb and Nick froze, then slowly looked from me to dad as the bastard had the gall to blanch, then swallowed hard.

"You know..." I continued, holding his gaze. "Before she died." "Tobe..." Nick started. "Suddenly, I'm not feeling fucking hungry." I shoved up from the table and turned away, catching the little bitch's gaze as I left.

But it wasn't a sick smear of sympathy I saw in her eyes. No, it was something more like sadness...like she almost understood my pain. Which was a damn lie. She didn't know a goddamn thing about me.

I strode from the dining room, leaving a void behind me. I'd sucked the joy from dad's moment and the blossoming friendship that fucking woman wanted to have with us, then took the stairs two at a time, leaving them behind. "I'm sorry about that..." dad murmured, his words barely reaching me.

"There's no need," Elle Castlemaine answered. "None at all." I slammed my boots against the stairs until I reached my floor, glancing at her room. Her fucking room.

I glanced over my shoulder and headed toward it, throwing open the door. Christ, it even smelled different. Gone was the biting scent of hospital antiseptic and the faint smell of death I couldn't fucking shake, no matter how deeply I exhaled. It smelled like...vanilla. Fucking vanilla. I glanced at the small bottle of perfume on the dresser. Pure, the gold label stated. I swallowed hard as heat raced to my cock.

Pure? Fuck, I wanted to smell it...wanted to search her bed for those panties and spray the shit on them, too. I stepped closer, pawing through the mess of her clothes, ones she'd torn the tags from, and found her underwear hidden beneath ripped black jeans.

I crossed the room, grabbed the perfume bottle, and lifted it to my nose. Anger drove me to pump the mist across her underwear before placing the bottle back. I balled the panties in my hand, then shoved them into my pocket before striding from the room.

The door closed quietly behind me, leaving the heady scent of that perfume behind. I didn't know why I'd done it, why I hated her. Her white cotton fucking panties and the bottle of Pure burning into my mind.

But I took them...I took them like she'd taken from me. "Get the fuck out of my house," I muttered as I stepped inside my room and closed the door. Darkness swallowed me. The blackout blinds were drawn, the walls were painted dark steel gray. I didn't want light in my world. I pulled the panties free.

I didn't want women, or vanilla...and I sure as hell didn't want her. I closed my eyes and lifted them, inhaling deep. The scent invaded me. In my head, I saw her naked, those tight little peaks of her breasts puckered tight.