Destroy You (Destroy #3) Read online

  Destroy You

  Destroy Series, Book Three

  By K.D. Carrillo

  Destroy You

  Copyright © 2015 by K.D. Carrillo.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: November 2015

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-358-8

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-358-1

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To Lisa Greenwood, Kelly McCurdy and the rest of my Ravenous Readers. You guys keep me going and make me laugh when I need it. Thanks for holding my feet on the ground so I can focus on keeping my head in the clouds.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Toni

  Five Years Ago

  I tried not to recoil from Miguel when he placed his hand on my lower back to guide me into the hotel room he got for us on prom night. My mind raced with all the possible excuses I could come up with to have him take me home without pissing him off, but I couldn’t come up with one he’d accept.

  Our parents were old friends, and he and I had grown up together. There was a time when I looked forward to seeing Miguel. He never complained about me playing basketball with the boys or made fun of my perpetually skinned knees. He was the first one to call me Toni, and the first one who helped me fit in with the other boys from the neighborhood.

  But when my skinny, girlish frame began to fill out, our friendship became strained. Miguel no longer wanted to let me hang out with the other guys. I thought, at the time, that he didn’t want to be my friend, but occasionally I’d catch him giving me lingering glances that he usually reserved for the other girls in our high school. Our parents also noticed, and they began encouraging us to spend more time together.

  We both dated other people for most of high school—at least I tried, but my parents always impeded my relationships with the boys that took me out. Miguel often interfered as well and managed to run off all the guys my parents hadn’t. When our senior year began, my parents stopped allowing me to go out at all unless Miguel was present. It was a blatant effort to push us together.

  Perhaps if they hadn’t been so heavy-handed about their wishes, Miguel and I might have stood a chance.

  “Quit squirming. I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said, pulling me out of my thoughts. A second later he dropped his hand from my back and slid the electronic key through the lock.

  Taking a deep breath, and deciding to give him a chance, I followed him into the room. It looked like he had tried to include every clichéd idea of romance. There were rose petals on the bed, champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, and lit votive candles spread around the room. On the table was a box of assorted chocolates.

  Well, for once he’d put some effort into it, I thought. I was being unfair, and I knew it, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. Sometimes when Miguel looked at me, I saw the boy that was my friend in elementary school. Other times, I’d see the cocky teenager he’d become. Considering how much he’d changed since we started dating, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be around to see the man he’d become.

  If his parents and mine would have stayed out of our relationship, I doubted Miguel and I would have ever dated. We were good as friends, but trying for more had eroded those old feelings. It wasn’t that I didn’t find him attractive, but we’d known each other too long. Sometimes I thought I caught Miguel looking at me with interest, but I’d also see him checking out most of the girls in school. Of course he was a teenage boy and constantly horny, but I needed to be special to the man I was with. He didn’t make me feel special, just convenient. Miguel moved in behind me while I took in the room. I felt his hot breath on my neck as he started trailing sloppy kisses down it and across my mostly bare shoulder. I suppressed a shudder and tried to move away from him as casually as possible. Instead, he dug his fingers into my waist and held me against him tighter. His arousal ground against my back, and I swallowed hard, trying to control my emotions.

  Miguel moved his hand from my waist to my shoulder and started to slide my thin spaghetti strap off it. “You look hot in that dress.”

  So much for seduction. I suppose he felt the romantic setup of the room was enough.

  “Miguel,” I said and stopped his hand before he could completely remove my strap.

  He grunted in frustration. “I know it hurt the first time, but I’ve waited weeks. You aren’t holding up your end of our relationship.”

  Well, someone give him an award for patience, I thought sarcastically. Our first time was awful, and I’d had zero interest in trying again. I was biding my time until graduation when I would leave for college. Sure, I was only going to Central, about forty minutes away, but I planned to make the most of our separation. I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to reflect on how miserable losing my virginity was.

  ***

  A few weeks ago, Miguel had taken me to a house party thrown by one of his friends. The house was packed, but his friend had saved one of the guest rooms for us. Since Miguel wasn’t in a rush to secure one of the rooms, we stayed down at the party and danced.

  Under normal circumstances, Miguel was a shit dancer. His signature move, only move really, was a jerking bob side-to-side. It was always off the beat. When he tried to dance with me, he usually managed to step on my foot at least a few times during the song. And these were not normal circumstances, since he started drinking heavily almost as soon as we walked into the party. The alcohol seemed to drive his wandering hands to search my body, and he began grinding against me.

  After about three songs, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the stairs. We didn’t say a word to each other. He used a key from his pocket to let us into our room. Once the door was closed and locked behind us, Miguel started groping and squeezing my breasts.

  He probably thought his touch was turning me on, but it was having the opposite effect. But rather than standing up for myself and telling him to stop, I was frozen in the moment. I kept thinking about our future. How our parents expected us to marry someday. Could I marry him? I wasn’t sure, but this seemed like a test. If
I couldn’t even bring myself to sleep with him, it didn’t seem likely.

  My clothes were yanked off while I was locked inside my head, and I heard his pants unzip behind me. Next I heard the tear of a foil wrapper. I guessed he was ready. Too bad I didn’t feel even a tiny spark of arousal.

  Miguel pushed me onto the bed and dropped down on top of me. Without even checking to see if I was ready, he plunged inside of me. I sucked in a breath and gritted my teeth against the burn spreading through my groin. He didn’t seem to notice and started pounding into me. He grunted a few times and then stalled.

  It was over. At least he was quick.

  ***

  I shook off the memory and tried to get into the moment. Maybe if I put some effort into it, I could enjoy sex this time. I turned and let him kiss me, but he thrust his tongue into my mouth in a rhythm I couldn’t follow, and instead I had to focus on not gagging from his oral exploration.

  After breaking the kiss, he said, “It’ll be good this time.” He continued breathing heavily into my ear while he yanked the zipper of my dress down and let it fall to pool around my feet.

  Like our first time, Miguel led me over to the bed and was sheathed and ready before I could even talk myself into any amount of interest. At least it didn’t burn this time when he entered me, but it still felt like an unwelcome invasion. I was dry, and each hard thrust felt like sandpaper against my most sensitive tissues.

  I stared up at the ceiling and didn’t even bother faking enjoyment. In seconds, the urge for it to be over built to a level I couldn’t ignore. I started to shove him away. “Stop!”

  He grunted in frustration when I forced him to roll off me, and when he looked over at me, he sneered. “So just because you’re done we have to stop? How fucking selfish are you?”

  Me? I was selfish? He was using my body like it was a ride at an amusement park, and I was done. This was definitely not the same boy I used to chase around the park. This cold-hearted, selfish asshole was nothing like my childhood friend. Without answering him, I climbed out of bed and began to get dressed. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get home, but I’d figure it out. The only thing I could focus on was getting the hell out of that hotel room.

  ***

  A few weeks after prom, I heard rumors whispered in the locker room that Miguel had been cheating on me. I’d suspected it and thought I’d be hurt if my suspicions were correct, but I felt relieved. It was the excuse I thought I needed to break up with him.

  Our first breakup only lasted a couple of weeks before I caved to the pressure from my parents to give him another chance. From that moment forward, a cycle was created of us breaking up and making up every few weeks. Each time I told myself we were done for good, but I continued to give in to the pressure.

  I hated myself for not being strong enough to stop succumbing to my parents’ demands to be with Miguel, but part of me believed I needed him in a way. My parents seemed to believe he was my future, and it wasn’t like I supported myself. They paid for everything, and I had never even had a job. What if they were right?

  I hoped they were wrong, but if I were more confident, if I believed in myself, I’d never go back to him. I wouldn’t be the only student at my university hoping to find myself. Someday, I hoped to be strong enough to stand on my own two feet, and I prayed I’d learn how to do just that during my years at Central. Once I had those skills, I’d walk away from Miguel Santos forever.

  Chapter 1

  Toni

  One Year Ago

  Jeremy leaned casually against the door of my room, where I was getting ready for my date. “Hey, sexy. Is all this hotness for me?” he teased.

  I laughed. Not for a moment did he mean a word of that. I’d known Jeremy for the better part of a year, and while he was one of the sexiest men alive, he was also one of my best friends. Even if I were interested, which oddly I wasn’t, at least not anymore, it would be a pointless endeavor because he’s gay.

  “I’ve got a date with Miguel,” I finally answered.

  I didn’t miss the furrow between Jeremy’s brows. Damn but that man could even make frustrated sexy. Still, I hated it when his beautiful blue eyes went from glittering to flat and cold because he was upset with me.

  I took a step back. “Say it,” I demanded.

  Jeremy ran a hand through his thick, black hair. “What’s the point, Toni? Are you going to listen? Please tell me he’s at least picking you up. It’s your birthday.”

  My brow furrowed. “You don’t understand.”

  He crossed his arms across his chest. “Explain it to me, then, because I’d really like to understand why the ballsiest woman I know would continue to go back to a guy that treats her like shit.”

  “Miguel and I have known each other since we were kids. Our parents are friends and business partners. I know my relationship with him isn’t perfect, but we have history together,” I argued.

  Jeremy pushed away from the door but stopped before leaving my room. “I don’t like him. And I can’t promise not to say ‘I told you so’ when he finally proves himself to be the asshat I know him to be, but I’m always here for you. Remember that.”

  Jeremy’s disapproval bothered me the entire way into Yakima. It took about forty-five minutes to get to Miguel’s parents’ house from Ellensburg, and the entire trip I couldn’t stop wondering why I was the one making the drive when it was my birthday. I couldn’t exactly curse Jer out for pointing out what I was already thinking.

  In the rare moments where I was actually being honest with myself, I could admit that my feelings for Miguel were forced. Butterflies didn’t swarm my stomach when I thought about him. I didn’t burn with lust when he looked at me, and I avoided his touch as often as I could.

  My parents and his expected us to get married. I accepted the idea when it was an abstract event set far in the future, but now that I was turning twenty-one and nearing graduation, my mother had been dropping more frequent hints about wedding planning. Seeing wedding magazines at the store made me break out in a cold sweat, and the thought of walking down the aisle toward Miguel made me cringe.

  Maybe we just needed to focus on us and spend some real time together. Maybe. Since we graduated from high school three years ago, we’d been living in different towns. Our lives had taken different directions, and there was a divide between us that wasn’t there when we were teenagers.

  We’d been on and off all throughout high school. The first time he broke up with me, I’d been heartbroken. When he attended one of the after-game parties with another girl, I was pissed, both because it was so easy for him to move on and because he got to break free of the expectations of our parents and I couldn’t. Privately, I had to admit I was killing time with Miguel until I could figure out how to escape my parents’ demands. I couldn’t help thinking back to one of the times I’d managed to ignore their wishes and do what I wanted to do.

  ***

  Miguel and his friends sat around a table playing a drinking game. I sneered at them and grabbed a red plastic cup off the counter. We were currently off-again, and he was rubbing it in by making a big show out of making out with a girl I’d hated since middle school. My friends forced me to come to this party because most of the football team was going to be there, so I braved seeing Miguel with his skank of the week.

  Since the beginning of my junior year of high school, I’d had a secret crush on the quarterback, Josh. He was tall, with wide shoulders and a trim waist. He had matured faster than most of the boys in school and looked more like a man than a boy. The best part about flirting with him was that Miguel hated him. I glanced in Josh’s direction and smiled invitingly.

  Josh walked up behind me, but I didn’t turn around. He dropped his arm around my shoulder, and I felt his warm breath against my ear.

  “Did you finally come to your senses? Are you ready to spend time with a real man?” His voice was low and vibrated against my neck. I lost the fight to control the goose bumps threatening to break
out along my skin.

  Oh boy was I ever ready. My pulse seemed to drop into my lady bits. I hummed in agreement and pressed my ass into his groin. Josh’s arm fell from my shoulders and his hands fell to my hips. He dug his fingers into my flesh, and my breath caught in my chest. Finally, I understood what all the girls were going on about when they talked about their boyfriends in the locker room. I’d never felt this instant desire with Miguel that I was feeling with Josh.

  The problem was Miguel and I were friends first. I know for some people friendship grows into more, but I never felt a pull between us. Frankly, I missed the days when he and I could sit together watching a movie. We used to laugh then. Not one time growing up did I long to feel his lips against mine, not even in junior high when I hit puberty and thought about boys all day long. Seeing him with another girl hurt, not because I felt betrayed by my boyfriend, but because it was clear he wasn’t my best friend anymore.

  So when Josh directed me through the crowd into the middle of the crush of bodies writhing to the music, I let go. Giving in to the fire racing through my blood, I let him guide my body to the beat.

  ***

  Josh hadn’t crossed my mind for a long time. I had fond memories of the weeks he and I dated, but he was a senior, and at the end of the year, he left for college. After that summer, I ended up getting back together with Miguel. A pattern was set after that; Miguel and I would break up and make up after we each dated other people for a few weeks. Except, he always found a way to reinsert himself into my life before anything got too serious between myself and whomever I was dating at the time. As a result, he was able to have his no-strings fun, and I was never able to completely move on.