Defending Donovan (Face-Off Legacy/Campus Kings 6)

“Okay,” I whisper, allowing his hands to linger on my hips.

When I don’t stop him, he slides his massive hand up my stomach, covering most of my bare skin. I should tell him to go back to Stephanie, we’re in public after all, but I’m too sick and buzzed to care.

I like the feeling of his hands pressed against my skin. His usual clean linen and aftershave scent fills my nostrils. Somehow, he affects my hormones every time I smell him. How can you be attracted to someone’s scent? It’s such a weird thing, and yet here I am leaning my head to the side to literally take a whiff of him.

“Are you mad?” he growls against the shell of my ear.

“Why would I be mad? You were just about to fuck those two whores.”

“C’mon, Taylor. You know that’s not true.”

I stir in his arms, but he pins me against his chest with one hand. “I thought we had an agreement.”

“I thought we did, too,” I counter.

“It’s just for appearances,” he challenges. “I didn’t touch either of them. I don’t want anyone but you. The night we spent together…” he sighs, “… it was the best night of my life. I want another one. But I don’t think one more night with you will be enough.”

My breath catches in my throat. How do I respond? I guess I overreacted. We had a deal that he was following through on. The way he acted with those girls was just for show. I knew that. But still, it didn’t hurt any less.

“I don’t want to pretend,” I confess. “ I wish we didn’t have to.”

“Who says we do?”

Rubbing my backside down the length of his thigh, I peek up at him. I want him so bad every bone in my body aches for him. My core is throbbing from the dark look he gives me in response to my dancing. His cock is so big and long I can feel it resting on his thigh. The more I dance for him, I feel him lengthen. Eventually, he’s so hard his cock pokes my ass cheek. Even through his jeans I can feel all of him.

“Jesus, Taylor,” he says, smacking a kiss on my head. He holds me tight using my body to cover his erection. “I can’t walk around like this, you know. Keep grinding on me like that, and I won’t have any choice but to throw you over my shoulder and take you up to my bedroom.”

“That was the point,” I quip.

And with that, his eyes flicker with acknowledgment. Before I know what’s happening, Drake is clutching my wrist and leading me upstairs. I notice Stephanie in the crowd with her cell phone raised in the air.

Fuck. What’s this bitch up to?

This looks bad.

Like really, really bad for me.

We ascended two flights of stairs, passing people on our way to his bedroom. This looks even worse than what Stephanie probably shot on her camera phone. Luckily, everyone’s too busy making out against walls or standing in line for the bathroom to notice me trailing behind Drake. Or, at least, I hope they don’t.

Drake unlocks his bedroom door with a key and then moves me inside, locking the door behind him. A giant flat-screen television is hanging on the opposite wall from his oversized bed. It must be a California king, maybe even bigger.

He stalks to his bed, and before I can join him, a pang of nausea sweeps over me with violent force. No, this is not happening right now. I cover my mouth, and Drake shoots me a confused look. Without a word, I run out of his bedroom in search of the bathroom.

Chapter Ten

Drake

I think Taylor hates me, or at the very least she’s changed her mind about our arrangement. The second I get her into my bedroom, she runs out of it like it’s on fire. Confused, I chase after her, locking the door behind me.

There are way too many people in my house to leave it open for puck bunnies and curious people to browse through it. I made that mistake years ago and had the Queen of the Puck Bunnies waiting for me in my bed when I came back. Needless to say, I didn’t act on her advances. Nope, I threw her sorry ass out.

Moving people out of my way, I rush down the hall to the bathroom. It’s locked, so I knock and call out to Taylor.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“Yeah, Drake. I’m fine. Just don’t feel good.”

“Let me in,” I demand.

“No,” she snaps.

“C’mon. I’ll hold your hair for you.”

I don’t even care that people can hear me. All I care about is Taylor and if she’s okay.

With some hesitation, Taylor unlocks the door and cracks it open for me to step inside. She’s sitting on top of the toilet seat with her head between her hands, her dark hair so long it touches the tiled floor.