How Sinners Fight (Sinners of Hawthorne University 2)

“Then do it. Protect me.” I say the words quietly, forcing them past numb lips. “Let me go right now.”

Gray’s expression shifts. The intensity in his green eyes dims a little, and he looks stunned. Almost devastated.

But isn’t this what he wanted?

For a moment, he stays right where he is, his body caging mine against the wall and his jaw clenched tight.

Then he takes two steps back from the wall, giving me space to slip out. Space to leave.

There are less than three feet between us, but it feels like a fucking ocean. It feels like a vast continent that we’ll never be able to bridge. Some part of my heart that I like to pretend doesn’t exist breaks at that thought. Because whether or not what he said about Brody and Melissa is true, he’s still willing to let me go. Just like he did on Christmas Day.

He’s willing to let me walk out of his life.

Because he cares about me?

That doesn’t match any definition of love I’ve ever known.

I try to hide my disappointment, the bite of pain that cuts through my chest. But I must not be entirely successful, because recognition flashes in Gray’s eyes.

His jaw tightens. He stays stock still, allowing me to step away.

It’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done in my life. I want to stay, want to believe him. Want to go back to that perfect moment in his kitchen before the world crumbled around me.

Gray is right. I’m a fighter. It’s not in my nature to back down from anything.

But if he’s not going to fight for us, why should I?

Dragging my gaze away from his tortured face, I move toward the door at the bottom of the stairwell.

One step.

Two steps.

Three—

“Fuck.”

A hand clamps around my wrist, and before my foot touches the floor again, Gray yanks me roughly back.

He grabs my shoulders and pivots our bodies, pressing me against the wall again. Before I have a chance to do or say anything, his lips crash down on mine, stealing all the air from my lungs.

He kisses me like he’s been starving.

Like he’s been dying.

Like he won’t let go this time, not even if I ask. Not even if I demand it. Not even if it’s the sane thing to do.

He kisses like a sinner who tried to be a saint and couldn’t fucking do it.

I don’t know what would happen if I tried to make him stop, but it doesn’t matter. The combustible chemistry between us, always so close to the surface, explodes. My arms wrap around him, fingernails digging into his back as I kiss him with the same ferocity I’ve wanted to punch him with.

The connection between our lips is laced with fury and pain, with regret and madness. It’s stupid. It’s so fucking stupid. Maybe I should’ve run when I had the chance, but now that we’re here, our bodies colliding like two stars pulled together by gravity, all I want to do is bury my pain in ecstasy.

His mouth is ravenous on mine, taking faster than I can give, and I bite his bottom lip, taking everything I want from him too.

Gray’s hands move restlessly over my body, groping and squeezing every part of me he can reach. He fumbles for my pants, flicking the button open and yanking the fly down before sliding his hand up my stomach and squeezing my breast with rough fingers.

None of his movements are finessed or smooth.