My hands tighten around her wrists as I blink, a little shocked. The guys and I have been going after her for most of the school year, and she hasn’t fought back like this in a while. I don’t know why, but I’m glad to see it.
I thought maybe we broke her.
But clearly, she’s made of stronger stuff than I gave her credit for.
She’s still cursing and screaming at me, even as she tries to find a way to keep attacking me physically, and the sight of it sparks something inside my chest. Relief, mixed with a dark, predatory instinct.
I’ve kept tormenting her because Trent doesn’t think she’s had enough yet, and I stick by my brothers no matter what. But there’s been no satisfaction in it lately. No feeling of justice as I see her exhausted, anguished face in the halls.
But this? This fire? It sparks an answering flame inside of me.
My hold on her wrists becomes even tighter, and I tug her toward me, drawing a small gasp from her lips. I use the leverage I have to bring us so close our bodies almost touch as I glare down at her, feral energy surging through my entire body.
“You’re one to talk about cruel. You started this, Holloway. We’re just trying to make things even.”
Her pupils dilated when I dragged her into the bubble of my space, and now her nostrils flare as a pretty flush rises in her cheeks. “Make things even? Do you honestly think this is making things even? I never meant to hurt anyone. You’re doing it on purpose!”
She tries again to break free of my grasp, and instead of keeping her hands locked out to the side, I bring them in, trapping them between us and using my bodyweight to control her movements.
“You never meant to hurt anyone?” I grunt, any earlier pity I felt toward her erased in a blaze of hot flame as I stare down into her wide brown eyes. “What did you think would happen? You knew what you were doing, so don’t pretend like you didn’t. You had a choice, and you picked the wrong one.”
That stops her short. She freezes, abandoning her struggles as she stares back at me. “It’s all because I made the wrong choice? If I’d chosen differently, you really think things would be any better?”
I scoff. “I fucking know they would.”
She winces, as if it physically pains her to hear those words. Then she mutters to herself, “Why didn’t I?”
Whatever the fuck that means.
I’m about to tell her to speak the fuck up and stop talking in riddles when she makes a small noise in the back of her throat. Then she leans up onto her tiptoes, using my body for balance, and slams her lips against mine.
I jerk and stiffen, instinctively wrapping my arms around her as she kisses me hard. Her lips are like conduits for the fury inside her, and she kisses me like she’s trying to fucking kill me. Our teeth clash as our mouths open, tongues warring with each other. I can feel her chest heaving as she gasps for breath, feel her nipples peaking, pressing against me through the fabric of her light blue tank top.
Her kiss is like a damn drug. I’m already wasted on it, and I want to get high ove
r and over.
But just as suddenly as she moved to kiss me, she pulls back, practically hurling herself away from me. With three feet of space between us, she stares at me with huge, shocked eyes.
Then she reaches up and wipes the back of her hand over her mouth.
It’s that movement that snaps my resolve.
Surging forward, I grab her chin in my hand, tilting her head up to make her look at me. “Uh uh, Holloway. You don’t get to kiss me like that and then act disgusted by it. Nobody kisses like that unless they goddamn well mean it.”
“Fuck you!”
She wrenches her chin out of my grasp and shoves at my chest with both hands, fury spiking behind her eyes again—along with something else. And when our lips collide this time, I don’t even know which one of us moved first.
It’s just as violent and angry as the first time, and we paw at each other’s bodies as we stagger across the room. I plow into a desk, and only my grip around her waist keeps her from going down. Another desk scrapes across the floor as I shove it aside, and then I’m yanking open the supply closet door in the back corner of the classroom.
I kick away the doorstop that was holding it propped open a crack, and it slams behind us with a heavy thud as I pick Emma up with ease and deposit her on a little table set against one wall. Classroom supplies scatter to the floor as she groans into my mouth, and I run my hands up her bare thighs, sliding them just under the hem of her skirt.
But it’s not enough. I need more.
Reaching up, I yank down the straps of her tank top and bra, and then I shove the bra and the top down roughly, exposing her perfect fucking breasts. They’re small and perky, just enough to be a proper handful, and what I felt earlier wasn’t an illusion. Her nipples are hard, tight buds in a rosy shade of pink.
I’m vaguely aware of Emma gasping as cool air hits her exposed skin, but I can barely think about anything anymore. Dropping my head, I pull one of her breasts into my mouth, palming the other one as I swirl my tongue over her nipple.