Tough Shit (Rejects Paradise 1)

My hands fall to his chest and slide up behind his neck, tangling in his hair as his drop to my ass. He lifts me and uses his body to keep me pinned against the door as my legs wrap around his waist.

What is this? Why does it always set my body on fire?

Colton grinds against me and a moan slips from between my lips. The sound is like a drug to him and his kisses become more hungry, needier, but I’m already there meeting him with that same desire.

My hands become a tangled mess in his hair and I want nothing more than for him to strip me bare and pound into me, giving us both what we’ve been craving since that very first touch, but I can’t. Despite the fact that I made a point that it will never happen, this is Colton Carrington, the biggest douchebag I’ve ever met. He could get any girl he wanted. In fact, I don’t doubt he has them lined up just waiting for him to give them a chance. So, what is he doing with me?

He’s playing me like a puppet and every single time, I fall into his trap. Hook, line, and sinker and it won’t be long until I give him exactly what he wants. Who’d be the fool then?

Fuck.

The thought is like having a bucket of ice water thrown over my head on the coldest day of the year.

My hand tightens in his hair and I tear him away from me. “No,” I tell him. “You can’t keep doing this to avoid talking.”

His eyes narrow on mine and he dips his face dangerously low and even though his lips were just on mine, something seems so much worse now, so much darker. “If you don’t want to fuck, Jade, then leave.”

“No.”

Colton moves back just an inch and it gives me space to move, but it also means I’m no longer pinned to the door and I fall back against it, hastily unwrapping my legs to catch my fall. I keep myself pressed to the door. “Nowhere to run, Colton,” I taunt, knowing that whenever he kisses me, he flies straight out the door. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” he questions, moving to his bed and flopping down as though he’s not raging on the inside that I currently have him trapped.

“Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, Carrington,” I snap, knowing that one would sting.

“Yeah?” he questions. “Well playing the victim doesn’t suit you.”

“When have I ever played the victim?”

He raises a brow. “When haven’t you? Running to Dad when you couldn’t handle people at school, running your mouth to your boyfriend every time Jude even looks your way. There’s a whole fucking list of things. Though, speaking of your boyfriend, I wonder how he’s going to feel to learn that you can’t keep your fucking hands off me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I laugh. “First off, you’ve kissed me every single time, and second, he’s not my boyfriend. I’m free to do whatever the fuck I want to do.” He scoffs and I get him back on track. “Just tell me what the fuck that bullshit downstairs was with your dad and I’ll happily leave you the hell alone.”

Colton groans and sits up but I see no signs of him giving in. “He used to hit you didn’t he?” I ask, watching him closely. His elbows rest against his knees and he drops his chin against his hands, slicing his eyes across to me, silently warning me that this topic is not up for discussion, but his silence is confirmation enough.

“Did he put his hands on your mom?”

“How is that any of your business?”

“It’s why she left, isn’t it? And she took your sisters because he was hurting them too.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But I do. I saw it in the way you flinched when he stepped toward you. It’s like you were a defenseless kid again before you remembered that you tower over him now.”

Colton’s gaze falls back to the carpet of his room and I take his silence as another confirmation. Growing a pair of balls, I walk across the room and take his chin between my fingers and lift until his eyes are on mine. “Why did she leave you behind?”

Something changes behind his eyes that catches me off guard. It’s like a waterfall of emotions. Sad, happy, hurt, pain, and sorrow. It’s as though they soften while hardening all at the same time. “She didn’t,” he tells me, briefly making me wonder why the hell he’s allowing me to do this, even more so why he’s answering. “He hunted us down and took me back. He doesn’t care about them. They’re all there for show and every time he proved it, it gutted my sisters. Dad married solely for the reason of having a son to continue the family business the traditional way. Mom was never supposed to fall pregnant with the twins.”