Sweet Little Nothing

As predicted, she retreats, but the solid wood of the door halts her progress, leaving her trapped. “I hope it burns through you like a wildfire and razes every bit of happiness you have left.”

“Why are you like this?” Her plump lower lip wobbles, and some sick part of me delights in knowing she’s trying not to cry.

I wonder which tastes better? The salt of her tears or the sweetness of her lips?

“Why are you a liar?” I counter with a mirthless laugh.

“I’m not.” She shoves at my chest again, but I don’t budge. Not even an inch. Instead, I box her in closer, holding her captive in a cage made of my flesh and bone.

“You are.” I dip lower, bringing my gaze level with hers. “You are, and you know it.” This close, I can see the flecks of gold and honey that streak her irises. She’s captivating, utterly stunning. Too bad she’s also a duplicitous bitch.

Her breathing accelerates, though out of anger or my nearness, I can’t say.

“I’m. Not. A. Liar.” Her voice breaks on the end as a single tear falls, rolling down her cheek, over the corner of her mouth, and off her chin.

I unplant one hand from the wall behind her and drag my finger over the wet path before stroking my fingers over her silky dark hair.

Her breath shudders and my lips turn up in a devious grin. I affect her, just as she does me. I’m sure of it.

But there’s only one way to know for sure.

I gather her long strands in my fist and tug sharply, jerking her nearer. A small gasp escapes her, yet she makes no move to push me away.

Interesting. So very interesting.

With her trembling lips only a hairsbreadth away from mine, she asks, “What... what are you doing?”

I give her hair a hard yank, leveraging her mouth to mine. “Anything I want, little mouse.” I rasp the words against her pillowy lips, so soft and tempting, full and pink. They’d look phenomenal with my dick sliding in and out of them.

“Get away from me,” she says, even as she clutches at the front of my shirt, pulling me closer.

Her pupils are blown wide with want, and I can practically feel her heart thundering in her chest.

“Now, you don’t mean that.” I wedge my right thigh between hers to drive home my point.

“Don’t...” she protests weakly. Her fight is giving way to the white-hot need churning between us. I can tell she hates the way she reacts to me, but damn if this delicious development doesn’t open a million new doors, each one a straight shot to her demise.

I grin darkly, already laying the groundwork as I claim her mouth in a kiss that’s as hot as it is demanding. I expect her to at least keep up the ruse of fighting me, but instead, she opens greedily, sucking my tongue into her mouth like it’s her favorite flavor of lollipop.

Emmalyn Price kisses the same way she lies, with a practiced ease that borders on familiarity.

We use our lips, teeth, and tongues as we funnel our mutual hatred for one another into this mind-fuck of a kiss, licking, sucking, and biting at each other until all that’s left is a simmering desire threatening to boil over at any moment.

“Sterling,” she whimpers, rocking against my solid thigh.

I nip at her lower lip, dragging my hands down her body to her ass.

Understanding my silent command, she wraps her long, toned legs around my waist.

I thrust into the hot space between her thighs. A deep groan rips from my chest, and then—

The sound of a door slamming down the hall has us breaking apart like two horny teens caught in the act.

Chests heaving, we regard one another. Lust and anger duel for dominance in Emmalyn’s dark gaze, while I run the numbers on how to play this to my advantage.

Our chemistry is undeniable, and I’d be an idiot not to find a way to exploit this burning attraction we seem to share.

“What the...” Emmalyn whispers, seemingly caught somewhere between confusion and outrage as she tries to push away from me like she wasn’t just rubbing herself all over my leg. “What just happened?”

Still processing this new turn of events, I don’t answer her immediately.

“Sterling?”

My name’s a question, one filled with equal parts loathing and longing.

“Shh.” I press my index finger to her kiss-swollen lips. “Go back to your dorm, Emmalyn.”

“But—”

I lean down and stamp her lips with one last chaste kiss before stepping away from her. “Go.”

She stares at me for a moment, but doesn’t make me tell her to go a third time.

I chuckle darkly as she squeaks out a barely audible reply before turning and bolting out the door.

Chapter Eighteen

Emmy

The sound of Sterling’s laughter, dark and deadly, chases behind me as I shoot down the hall toward the exit.