I wanted to say he was already in.
The one who I’d had.
Who I’d wanted.
Who was currently sitting with a drug-using, passed out Coco.
I suppressed a snarl as I reached for my fork and grabbed more pasta. If Junior was trying to flaunt his female fans to make me homicidal—it was working.
Chapter Twelve
Junior
By the time I got back to the house, it was already past midnight. Thank God I didn’t have class the next day because I was exhausted having to drive someone a good forty minutes back to her apartment.
When we finally got there, Coco had trouble finding her keys, and then she plastered herself against me, kissed my nose because, and I quote, “It’s just so damn perfect.” Only to follow that up with asking me if I wore contacts and if I was packing.
I think she meant that sexually.
But I truly was packing—heat that was.
Those hours with Coco, I would never get back, but to see the anger on Serena’s face?
One hundred percent worth it.
It was the only plan of attack I had.
Hurt her the way she’d hurt me—no, the way she was still hurting me.
I quietly let myself in the house and tossed my keys on the counter; it felt like a second home to me since we had all been close. And all those nights I’d snuck into her room, well let’s just say I knew how to get into the fortress that was Nixon Abandonato’s house—blindfolded.
I went over to the fridge to grab a water, then nearly shit myself when a too-sugary voice said, “Get lucky?”
“Did Satan at least give you a deal when he took your soul, or did you just freely hand it over so you could lurk in dark corners and curse people?” I picked up the water and closed the fridge. “I’m genuinely curious.”
She made a face.
The lights were off except for the glow from the motion sensors outside that I’d activated.
And then, absolute darkness.
“I gave him my soul, and in return, he said when I die, I can haunt you, so I figured it was a pretty legit deal, you know?” she said sweetly.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, okay and to answer your question, no I didn’t get lucky because I’m not into screwing passed out girls—”
Serena took a step toward me and whispered, “Huh, that’s strange, considering what bloodline you come from.”
I shoved her so hard she stumbled backward.
And then she was on me, legs wrapped around my waist, hands grappling for a solid chokehold around my neck.
I threw her down onto her back while she tried to get an arm bar, too bad her fingers were still broken or she may have had me.
“Son of a bitch,” I groaned as my arm strained inside hers, I got out of position then knocked my head against hers.
She cursed and loosened enough for me to wiggle out and pin her arms to the ground.
Both our chests were heaving; I tried to ignore the fact that her white tank top was nearly see-through, and she was wearing tiny shorts that did nothing to hide her lean legs.
Her hair was pulled back from her face, and she had never looked so angry—or so damn beautiful.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I hissed. “That was low, even for you.”
Her eyes darted away. “I know.”
And then it was like our bodies realized what perfect position we were in, her legs still wrapped tight around my waist.
My hands holding her hostage against the floor.
Her breasts straining.
We were a tangle of erratic breathing, hatred, and millions of angry, broken pieces.
I could feel the heat from her legs as my dick strained against my jeans. An erotic swirl of tension so thick, so sweet, pulsed between us in a way that was catastrophic.
I lowered my head a fraction of an inch so that I could whisper in her ear, my tongue wetting the outside tip. “Admit it; you like fighting me.”
She struggled against my grip. “I can feel you… so maybe it’s you who likes fighting me?”
I thrust up against her, feeling the throb of her body against mine. “What was that, princess?”
She arched beneath me.
A light flicked on down the hall.
We scrambled to our feet and jumped apart. I did my best to hide my arousal while she crossed her arms and reached for the bottle of water I’d just taken.
The light turned off, blanketing us in darkness again.
I took a step away from her.
And then Serena grabbed me by the arm and shoved me against the fridge, her mouth was on mine before I could beg.
And then I was shoving my hand down her shorts, gripping her naked ass so tight that she would have bruises.
Our tongues tangled in a mess of want.
I would die for a kiss like this.
I would commit murder.
I would burn down the world.