Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I whip my head around.
In a flash, he’s on me.
“Fucking following me?” he says in a low voice.
Suddenly his palms are pressed flat against my chest as he shoves me hard into the row of lockers behind me.
My back slams into the metal front of a locker, clattering through the room.
It’s empty in here now other than us.
He’d already taken off his shirt, probably getting ready to shower before he caught sight of me. I glance down at the fresh black lines of the tattoos on the front of his collarbone.
“Only because I like how you smell,” I tell him. “You wear that for the SPF or because it makes you smell like the beach?”
“Why are you following me? Looking for another opportunity to put a fucking spike in my neck?”
“You know I didn’t do it. I was in the same room with you, Rayne. The angle alone would be impossible to pull off.”
“I know I don’t trust you.”
“That’s not what you mumbled in your sleep that night.”
He looks at me like he really might be about to choke me. “If you’re a member of Onyx, you are required to be honest with me. What the fuck are you doing tailing my ass?”
I breathe deep, my chest compressed by his hands planted firmly on the front of my body. “God, you really do hate being alone with me, don’t you?”
“Because I have to listen to you talk.”
I bite down on my lower lip, then let it go. “I think it’s because you’re afraid.”
His eyes smolder. “You know I’m not scared of you, Hunter.”
“Oh, I don’t think you’re afraid I’ll hurt you. You’re afraid I’ll make you hard. Again.”
He slams me against the lockers again and even though it hurts, I’m honestly starting to like it.
“Why did you leave London, Knox?” he prods.
That’s not something you’ll ever get an answer for.
“Don’t worry. I won’t ruin your perfect little fantasy life you have with my brother. Are you still pissed off that he didn’t tell you sooner that I was coming here? Worried your best friend is keeping secrets from you, Rayne?”
Rayne puts an arm up against my neck now, forming a bar on my windpipe.
“Don’t talk about Weston or I really will hurt you.”
“Try putting a little more pressure on my throat, Rayne,” I tell him. “Find out what happens if you do.”
“You’re sick in the head.”
“You worried I’ll pull a knife on you? If you choke me I’ll probably like it.”
He pulls his arm away in an instant and releases me, and my body goes slack against the lockers.
“Just leave us alone.”
I can’t help but smile. “Damn. Did my brother train you to be his guard dog, or do you give him that privilege willingly?”
“It’s called friendship. Guess that’s a foreign concept to you.”
“Relax. Weston didn’t know I was transferring to Crimson College until five minutes before you did. He’s not keeping things from you, I just didn’t tell him.”
I see relief in his eyes, even though he’s trying to hide it from me.
“You’re trying to fuck with both of us,” he finally says.
I shake my head slowly, looking at his lips, then his eyes again.
“No. Just you.”
“Why?”
“Because you kissed me. How do you say I don’t fuck men, but I’ll fuck you as a punishment in Latin?”
He puffs out a breath, shaking his head at me.
His body looks so much stronger than it ever has before. Sculpted muscles, adorned with those tattoos.
Rayne Colson turned out good.
I can see why people on this campus consider him a prize.
He gets in close to my face again, and I can see amber flecks in his brown eyes.
“You’re not going to get to me. Butter me up all you want. Follow me, track me, try to manipulate me. It won’t work.”
“If someone’s trying to hurt you, then I have a perfect excuse to hurt them. Make sense?”
He takes a step closer to me.
There’s something smoldering in his gaze, now, in the same way I saw at the party.
Suddenly he closes the gap between us, reaching out. His warm palm hits the waistband of my pants and I pull in a sharp breath as his hand plunges lower.
He’s shoving his hand down the front of my pants.
And he’s gripping my hard cock in his fist, squeezing it tight.
His thumb trails over the head of my cock, slipping along the precum that’s been collecting there, and the sensation is so tantalizing that something snaps in my brain.
“I know how to play games, too,” he says.
He tugs his hand out of my pants and raises his thumb to my lower lip, slicking it with my own precum.
My pulse ticks up.
His thumb on my lip is affecting me far more than it should.
I feel vitally alive, my world snapped into full color all at once in the same way that happens when I’m in a physical fight.