Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
When two ruthless enemies collide.
My name is Preston Armstrong, and I’m the most depraved bastard you’ll ever meet.
I take what I want, ruin what I don’t, and live exactly how I please.
That is, until I crash into the force of nature that is Marcus Osborn.
Captain of our rival hockey team, and the perpetual thorn in my side.
A migraine in human form and the one person who refuses to play by my rules.
He’s my brand of heartless and just as deranged.
I set out to crush him, his career, and his infuriatingly gorgeous face.
But Marcus hits back with equal force, turning our rivalry into a violent, addictive dance neither of us can walk away from.
We were supposed to annihilate each other.
Instead, we spark a fire that threatens to devour everything in its path.
In this battle of two unhinged souls, our bodies become collateral damage.
But I never expected our stone-cold hearts to get involved.
Tempting Venom is a male x male college romance. While this book can be read on its own, for a better understanding of the world, it's recommended to read Beautiful Venom & Sweet Venom first
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PLAYLIST
Snap Back – Twenty One Pilots
One More Night – Maroon 5
Obsessed – Kami Kehoe
Popular Monster – Falling in Reverse
So Far So Fake – DarkLux & Xizt
Fuck Me Like You Hate Me – Jutes
Red Line – 5 Seconds of Summer
Girl With One Eye – Florence + The Machine
Over Me – Camylio
I Can Fix You – Jutes
It Takes Two – Jutes
Specter – Bad Omens
Better – Villain of the Story
Ache in My Heart – Palaye Royale
Start Over – 5 Seconds of Summer
Secrets – Christian Gates
Letdown – Letdown
A Lonely Night – The Weekend
Give – Sleep Token
You can find the complete playlist on Spotify, Apple Music, and YouTube.
PROLOGUE — MARCUS
AGE SEVEN
Ihate my birthdays.
They always begin with the same bleak reminder that the one thing I want the most is the one thing I can’t have.
Maybe I should change the wish. Try to see if I can make a better one.
One that doesn’t revolve around wanting something I can never have.
Too late now.
Mom’s slightly trembling fingers tighten around my clammy hand—or maybe it’s hers that’s all sweaty. Her usually affectionate touch is jaded, smothered by the consequences of my stupid wish.
I peek up at her, sinking my teeth into my lower lip.
Mom is still in her pale-pink nurse’s uniform, her white sneakers smudged from the walk in the rain and a worn leather bag slung over her shoulder. Her jet-black hair is pulled into a ponytail, a few strands slipping loose around her face.
I love Mom’s face. It’s round and welcoming, accented by huge dark eyes that I see myself in and warm skin kissed by the sun.
She carries that faint trace of disinfectant, the scent I’ve loved for as long as I can remember because it means she’s home. My classmates say the smell of the hospital stinks, but for me, it means Mom’s hugs as soon as she walks in.
Doesn’t matter how worn out she is, Mom always smiles the widest when she sees me, falling to her knees to hug me and shower me with kisses.
“How was your day?” I’ll ask because that’s what she always asks me.
“Much better now.” She’ll sigh in my hair, hugging me again.
Mom works in the emergency room at the local hospital in our town, Stantonville. And because she works night shifts and overtime, she usually has panda eyes.
Like now.
Normally, she leaves me with Mrs. Rodriguez next door, but yesterday, Mom asked Dad to spend time with me.
Because it was my stupid birthday wish.
I waited by the window, peeking through the curtains all night long, holding the puck he gifted me last year, but I fell asleep, and Dad never came.
This morning, Mom found me sleeping slumped on the windowsill, grabbed my hand, and drove us here.
To Dad’s mansion.
I’ve never been here before.
The house looks as big as Dad. Too big. Like a castle. And…just far away, though it’s right in front of me.
It rises from the ground like it swallowed the whole street, with so many floors stacked on top of each other and countless windows and doors. Even the garden is wider and neater than the park back home. It looks as magical as the gardens in fairy-tale stories Mom loves reading to me.
I wonder if there are roses I can get for Mom.
“The least you could’ve done is tell me you weren’t coming, so I could’ve come up with alternate plans for Marcus.” Mom’s voice is bitingly low—the tone she always uses when she’s fighting with Dad. “A child his age shouldn’t be left alone.”
“He’s eight and grown enough,” Dad says in that dismissive way of his, the sound cutting through the air, although his voice stays controlled.
“Seven. Marcus is seven, Andrew.”
“Seven. Eight. What’s the difference? You’re being dramatic.”
I peek at Dad, not really daring to look at him fully. I don’t think he likes it—or me—that much.
Dad is tall and broad—so tall, both Mom and I have to look up at him.
We share the same cloud-colored eyes, except his are narrower, meaner, and barely shift. His light-brown hair catches the light from the thin sunbeam leaking through the clouds, nearly turning blond.
He hardly smiles or hugs me like Mom. He just looks.
Like now.
His gaze strays toward me, and I stare down at my blue-and-white sneakers Mom got me for my birthday last year.
Mom always tells me Dad is busy and doesn’t have time and that I should understand, but I think he just doesn’t like me.
“Dramatic?” Mom’s hand squeezes mine even tighter. “I’m dramatic for asking you to be a decent human being and treat your child right?”
“I give you money for whatever he needs, June. What else do you want from me?”
Mom releases my hand, reaches into her bag, and pulls out a few dollar bills, then throws them at his chest. “Fuck your money! Your son needs his father, not money.”
“Well, that’s all I have to offer him. I told you it would’ve been better to abort him; it’s not my fault you chose to keep the kid.”