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)
Everything comes into clear focus: his dark rows of eyelashes surrounding those big eyes, the gentle curve of his Adam’s apple, and the clear strength of his pecs.
“I could kill you quickly,” I say gently, responding to his challenge.
He lifts one eyebrow, just a little. “Yet you’re not doing it.”
Infuriating.
I close the space between us and I kiss him.
My lips feel like they burn against his as I kiss him again, and again, white-hot anger rising inside me each time my lips touch his.
Suddenly the room feels cloyingly hot and I want to toss off my shirt like I do in the best kinds of fights.
But this isn’t a fight.
Yet he is still filling me with uncontainable rage.
His hands push against my chest like he wants to shove me away but then he reaches lower, gripping around the small of my back, and his palms are warm on my skin as he reaches up under the hem of my shirt.
If I could kill him, why do I want to take him, instead?
Take all of him as my possession, like I’m trying to prove something?
He pulls away for a breath. My lips are swollen from our kisses and I can’t stand the lack of touch.
I lean in and put my teeth to his lower lip, biting it and giving it a pull. The alternative would be knocking him out, and this is easier, right now.
“Tell me you’re afraid of me,” I say under my breath, pausing to press a slow kiss to his lips, then giving his lower lip a suck. “Tell me the truth.”
“Not afraid.”
I let out a sound that’s something between a groan and a desperate growl, and my hand slides to the back of his neck, squeezing him there.
Self-control isn’t my strong suit.
But if I stay here, I know I’m going to do something terrible.
Shove him into the shower stall, rip his clothes off until he’s naked, and work my cock inside his ass until I learn exactly what he sounds like when he begs.
I squeeze my eyes shut and my world flashes red and black.
This isn’t a fight you want, something inside me says, but it’s a distant suggestion.
You need to be alone.
It’s like an icy slap to my soul.
I pull away from Rayne, stumbling as I walk backward. I feel like an animal that’s just heard his master’s whistle, and I know I need to retreat.
“Don’t touch me again,” I murmur at him.
There’s still a heat in his eyes that threatens to draw me back in.
He doesn’t believe what I just said, and I can tell because his eyes glance down to the outline of my obvious erection through my pants.
He pulls his lower lip into his mouth, and it takes every ounce of restraint in me not to go take it between my teeth again.
Rayne nods. “Whatever you say, Hunter.”
He turns away from me. Wordlessly, he faces the shower and strips off the rest of his clothes. I watch his bare ass walk off, muscled and firm, as he steps into the steaming spray of the shower.
He yanks the curtain shut.
And my hand twitches as a storm of urges runs through my body.
Go in.
Shove his skull against that tile wall.
Fight him for real, this time.
Put him in his fucking place, because no one treats me like this. Challenges me like this.
But the red-hot feeling simmers in my veins as I leave the locker room.
I breathe deep as I lean against the wall just around the corner from the locker room door.
My cock is so fucking hard it’s becoming a problem.
I stay there for another ten minutes until he’s done showering.
I watch him leave the building.
And I ensure he doesn’t see me tailing him as I follow him home, making sure he gets back safe. A job he should be thanking me for.
But by the time he leaves for the dining hall with his buddies an hour later, I’m all tapped out on restraint.
I need to come.
And for some reason, my cock needs Rayne to make that happen right now.
I’m bored of stalking.
This time, when I follow him inside, I’m ready to play a new game.
You are going to beg, Rayne Colson.
And tonight I want to use you to get off, too.
7
Rayne
I squeeze through the crowd in the Kettle, trying not to bump anyone with my hard plastic tray full of food.
“This place is fucking poppin’,” Oliver says, managing to make it through the crowd after me, heading toward the tables.
I can barely hear him over the sound of students’ conversations and laughter. The whole dining hall smells delicious, like roasting chicken and apple-cinnamon from the pies they have for dessert.
“It’s always busy because it’s the smaller dining hall, but tonight is another level,” Weston says from behind him.
I scan the area for any free table.
Finally, I spot a 4-seater booth where another group is getting up to leave.