Page 46 of Swerve (Boosted Hearts 1)

I dropped my bag and shoved at his chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I yelled. “Is this fun for you, fucking with my head day in and day out? Is this how you get your fucking kicks?”

“Ruby,” he growled.

“Don’t ‘Ruby’ me.” I shoved him again. “You’ve got a goddamn screw loose! How many personalities do you actually have? No really, I want to know . . .”

“Calm your shit down. You’re still recovering.”

“Cut the crap, would you?” His hands were gripping my biceps and I tried to pull free, but he wouldn’t let me. “You’re a control freak and you’re trying to control me as well. I’m not your goddamn puppy. I won’t heal or sit or stay . . .” I shoved harder and he finally let me go. “I sure as fuck won’t obey. I don’t know what’s going on in your head. Why you do the shit you do. But listen up, what happened to me had nothing to do with you. This is my mess. This time, it doesn’t need to be you, okay? You don’t need to be the one on the white charger coming to my rescue. I don’t need to be rescued.” I took another step back. “I’m asking you to back off and let me . . .” Get over you. “Take care of this myself. Van said he’d put me up. I’m going to his place. I can’t . . .” Shit, my eyes started to sting again. “I’m not doing this with you anymore.”

“You finished?”

I stared at him, fury firing though me. If I was closer, I would have kicked him square in the nuts. Here I was pouring my damn heart out and he . . .

“Just shut up for five fucking seconds.”

I blinked up at him. “My God. You really are an utter, utter asshole . . .”

“Shut up,” he gritted out again and closed in, backing me up until I collided with the wall.

My hands lifted to his shoulders, and I tried to push him back. “Where the hell do you get—”

His mouth slammed down on mine, and I froze. I tried to shove at him again, but he pressed into me more firmly, didn’t let up, his lips sliding hungrily over mine, sucking, nipping . . . until I couldn’t think straight, until I forgot why I was resisting in the first place. All the anger I had burning inside me had shifted, transforming into pure, undiluted lust. His hands went to my ass and I wrapped my arms around his neck instantly, climbing his long, strong, beautiful body before he even had a chance to haul me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he growled into my mouth, earning a moan from me in reply. His full lips opened over mine, tongue delving deep, the scrape of his five o’clock shadow against my chin. God, the taste of him. I was lost, gone, and I knew there would be no recovering from this.

My nipples grazed his hard chest and I whimpered, one of my hands curling around the back of his neck, holding him to me, the other dropping to his ass. I tilted my hips forward, desperate for more. The hard, unyielding length of his cock ground into me with enough strength to hurt. A startled cry was forced from my lungs and I almost came.

His mouth moved along my jaw to my neck, sucking and nipping my sensitive skin.

“Jesus, Neco,” I croaked. “Please . . .”

A rumbling sound vibrated through his chest and he slammed into me harder. The deep bruises on my side protested and a cry escaped my lips before I could stop it.

He stilled suddenly, tearing his mouth from mine, barking out a curse. His head dropped to my shoulder, his panted breaths burning against my skin.

“Neco . . .”

“Fuck.” He lowered me suddenly, stepping back. His eyes were wild, angry. “Fuck,” he said again, louder, sharper than before, backing up. Rage rolled off him, so much so that I froze like a startled rabbit. That just seemed to make him angrier. “Goddammit. I need to . . .” he cursed again and yanked the door open beside me then stormed out of the room, slamming it shut behind him.

I stood there stunned, still staring at the door long after he’d stormed through it. My butt met the carpet a few seconds later. I drew up my knees and wrapped my arms around my legs, staring out the window on the other side of the room. Neco was a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel, not to me, never to me. But right then, I was having a hard time working out a motive for his behavior toward me. He was basically furious with me all the time. He’d kissed me, three times now. Something I’d wanted since I was old enough to know what a kiss was, a real kiss. But it was starting to feel like he was using it against me, to punish me when I got out of line. Like he was using my feelings for him, that obviously weren’t so secret, to control me.

After everything we’d been through, even after everything I’d done to get his attention, the mistakes I’d made, I never thought he’d treat me that way. A memory started playing like a movie in my head, before I had the strength to shove it away.

I ran across the road, wincing as stones dug into my bare feet, a kitchen knife gripped in my hand for protection. Climbing out the window was easier without shoes, and no way in hell was I using the front door, not again. I didn’t want Valery seeing the bruise that had come up almost instantly on my face after that guy had hit me. Right then, getting to Neco, talking to him, was more important than anything. It was 3 a.m. and still dark. I’d waited until the thumping beat of music from Tomas’s place stopped echoing down the street, until I knew the party was over. God, the way he’d gone after those guys. He’d beaten them half to death.

I couldn’t wait until morning to talk to him. The sick, queasy feeling in my belly wouldn’t go away, and I knew it wasn’t going to, not until he looked at me like he always did, like I was special, like I meant something to him. Not until I was sure he wasn’t mad at me for following him to that party.

I slowed down when I hit the driveway, being as quiet as I could so I didn’t wake his mom, and rounded Neco’s house. The lights were out, all except a dim light coming from his bedroom window. His lamp was going. He was still awake.

Suddenly, I was nervous. This was Neco, for God’s sake; I had no reason to be nervous. But I needed to tell him what I’d planned to when I went to that party, before everything had gone to hell. Yes, telling someone you loved them for the first time was a momentous thing, but once I said it, once he knew, he wouldn’t have to pretend anymore, that we were just friends, that he didn’t feel the same way.

Impulsively, I plucked a cherry blossom from the tree outside his bedroom and tucked it behind my ear then walked to his window, like I had a hundred times before, and lifted my fist to tap on the glass . . .

It froze midair then flew to cover my mouth.

I was going to be sick.

A girl was naked on Neco’s bed, her hands sliding up his arms to his shoulders. Her legs were spread, and Neco was pumping his hips between hers over and over again. I couldn’t move, watching as she curled her hands around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Neco pulled away and started thrusting into her faster.

I just stood there, unable to move as pain flowed through me, knocking the wind from my lungs. Neco’s face contorted, his muscular body straining as he slammed into her twice more. Then he groaned, and though I’d never done it, I’d seen people having sex, and I knew he was coming. Pleasure, pain transformed his face into an expression I’d never seen before. And I hated it, so much, that some girl, some nobody who could never mean to him what I did, got that, got something that I never would.