More broken gasps betray precisely how I feel. While I didn’t want this to happen, I knew I could use it to my advantage—yet once again, I’m caught in a strange whirlwind of sheer terror and pleasure that I don’t understand.
He starts to slide his fingers out and I buck after his hand, eager to keep him buried inside me. The glint of interest in his eyes doubles as his fingers return, palm skimming my clit. My jaw drops as I arch toward him. I’m angry at my hips, but I’m so desperate to come, fingers curling desperately into his shirt.
But then he pulls out. He breaks eye contact, stepping back. “She’s good.”
Soren grunts with frustration and pushes Lev out of the way. “I’ll double-check.”
All cocky pride, indeed.
He slams his fingers into my pussy, pushing a squeak from me that makes it hard to breathe. The grin that crooks his lips makes me feel a mixture of shame and satisfaction.
“Fuck,” he whispers while fingering me. “You’re just always ready to go, aren’t you?”
My body shudders uncontrollably while I try to clamp down on my imminent eruption. If it wasn’t for Lev being slow and gentle, then maybe I wouldn’t have danced on the edge so quickly. Maybe I could have survived without coming.
Or maybe this is just who I am and I should accept that.
Lev stands behind Soren, and I can’t drag my gaze away from him. I lock onto his eyes, electric bolts zapping my core as I clutch Soren’s shoulders, ready to ride the wave I know is about to crash over me.
Lev could have made this happen. But he didn’t. He let Soren push him out of the way, tossing him aside like useless trash—like me. These could be his fingers causing me to croak, to clutch, to clench. I hold his gaze angrily. This could have been you.
Seconds after my orgasm rips through me, Soren instructs me to get dressed and says I’m clear to attend homecoming with Lev. Maybe Lev is the right choice for now, but there’s no way he’d ever care about me. Our marriage would be purely contractual—and it would be a far better arrangement than any of the other men.
At least that’s what I tell myself when I leave the classroom.
***
The last fencing match with Apple Valley High makes everyone in the room hold their breath. Parents and students alike lean on the edge of their seats as I end the fight with a strong jab, returning to Coach Neill with a humble smile as she squeezes my shoulder. Behind her sits the rank board—upon which it appears I’ve nearly outranked Parker.
“Damn, she’s good,” Tomas comments. “Almost better than you, Parker.”
“Well, look at that,” Soren points out while elbowing Parker. “Your bride-to-be almost kicked your ass.”
Parker growls, “Shut the fuck up.”
His threatening gaze slides to me. I return it easily, hardly deterred by the power seated in those green emeralds. He could use getting knocked down a peg or two, even if it does make him a little more aggressive. Can’t win all the time, asshole.
Once the matches are wrapped up and victory belongs to Macedon High, students and teachers spill from the gym, filing out toward the manicured lawns beyond the metal doors. The terrace quickly fills up, which I spot from my position on the bleachers near the rank board. A pang ripples through my gut.
I shake my head. It’s fine. My plan is working.
I sense a presence to my left and peek out of my peripheral vision to see Parker standing expectantly next to me. Is this going to become a habit? Guess I ought to get used to it.
“I challenge you to a tie-breaker,” he announces loud enough for the people nearby to hear. As if they weren’t already watching us intently. “Alone.”
“No.”
He pitches his voice low, so I’m the only one who can hear it. “I can demand more than sex, you know.”
It’s a controlled statement, a strange occurrence for a guy like Parker, who has a short fuse. I study him carefully, noticing the way his muscles visibly flex under my critical gaze. When I look into his eyes, I whisper, “All right. Five minutes.”
But God, I need more than five minutes to prepare if I’m facing Parker. After instructing me where to meet him—beyond the football field, in the clearing that separates the high school from a church—I disappear into the locker room to gather my bearings.
It doesn’t take me long to reach the clearing. Half the gymnasium is in attendance, with Demetra standing a healthy distance away from the four boys who are determined to ruin my life. Next to her, a small group is buzzing, with plenty of faces that include Jolie, Melissa, Gary, and Cody. Tabitha lingers close. My eyes rove back to Demetra, who gives me a confident thumbs-up.
If only I felt that confident.
“All right, kids,” Soren announces, while waltzing between Parker and me. “Two minutes to the death, unless one of you hits fifteen points first. No cheap shots. But feel free to—” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “—get a little dirty.”