Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
He laughed lowly, and the sound sent chills rolling over my spine.
“You’re a habitual line stepper. You really wanna take me on that way?”
“Take you on?” I didn’t want to do anything but get him to leave me alone.
“What do you want?” I practically yelled, catching the attention of everyone around us. He remained unruffled, amusement rising in his eyes.
Great. Now I looked like a raving psycho. I was surprised some bimbo didn’t step up to defend him. I could feel daggers aimed at me from a few already.
“Right this moment? I want you to lower your voice and pretend we’re at an elite prep school. Later?” He gave me a slow perusal. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rhiannon
Caution.
It’s not something I’ve ever had to use around anyone. No one’s ever given me reason to. Judas, on the other hand…he had my defenses heightened.
Fear. Anger. Desire.
Following him around campus may not have been the best idea, but I didn’t know what else to do other than run to the front office and cry wolf. No pun intended.
We’d left the first building behind about six minutes ago. Outside, the sun was warm, shining down on the green grass, making it sparkle a bit.
“That building over there has gym A, the pool, the guidance counselor, and a small tech workshop.” He pointed off to the right.
I nodded, adding that to my mental map.
“Hey, what did you mean when you said, ‘pretend we’re at a prep school.’ Because, aren’t we actually at a prep school?”
He thumbed his chin, nudging me so I would take a path going left instead of right. “You don’t belong here.”
I didn’t object. That was true. When I remained silent, he kept going.
“This school is full of spoiled rich kids with fake ass friends, chicks with major daddy issues, and guys who think too much with their dicks.”
“Excluding Audrey,” I cut in quickly.
“Audrey has a shitload of daddy issues.”
She did, but he wouldn’t be getting that confirmed from me.
“So, we’re pretending?” I fished.
“Something like that, but you’re much more committed to the act.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Cuz I haven’t told you yet.”
I side-eyed him. “Told me what?”
“Anything. The truth.”
I didn’t pry any further after that, didn’t even ask him about Dax. I let him show me around, and surprisingly, he didn’t talk too much shit in the process or bring up a certain night again.
My classes consisted of British Literature, AP Chemistry—still couldn’t understand how that had happened—Theology, Lunch—the most important one—and Pre-Calculus. Thank god I’d knocked out World Language at my old school.
We were approaching the main building again, where my locker supposedly was. He’d been quiet for the past couple minutes, his eyes trained on some distant thought. Quiet Judas was nice. And with the sun hitting all his angles, I had peeked at him more times than what was socially acceptable.
I wished he wasn’t wearing a jacket. I wanted to study his tats.
If I were being honest, I wished he wasn’t wearing anything at all. Up until his lips twitched as if he were fighting back a smile.
“Can’t help it, huh?”
I wasn’t even about to pretend I wasn’t looking at him. “You know you look good, Jude. You’re probably the best-looking guy around until you open that mouth of yours.”
“I can remember a specific time when you couldn’t get enough of the things coming from my mouth, or what I was doing with it.”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks. I was not a prude, but to hear him speak about it so casually…I hadn’t thought of my V card as a holy grail, but he was still my first. In more ways than one.
“Are you going to keep reliving that one experience?”
“No, I’m going to surpass it.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, debating whether that assured statement needed a response.
It didn’t.
He could say whatever he wanted. A soft whir interrupted the elongated silence that had reformed between us, and I watched yet another guard zoom by on a golf-cart like buggy.
“I get that this place is huge, but why did you say it wasn’t safe? There are security guards circling around on those cart things every fifteen minutes. Or was that just to get me outside?”
He stopped walking and turned so that his body was facing mine. “You think they could protect you from me?”
“Not this again,” I muttered. “Your empty threats don’t work on me.”
In the blink of an eye he had his hand on my neck, thumb stroking the base of my throat.
He didn’t squeeze, but the threat was there. “These aren’t threats, principessa. They’re promises. I intend to make good on every single one of them.”
I stared up at him, feeling a very different emotion to fear. My pulse was going haywire, my internal temperature rising.
“Making me bleed? That’s a promise?”
“You act like that isn’t something you’d want.” With that, he stepped away and continued our path, not bothering to look back. Discomfort wrapped around my confidence. He knew more than I ever wanted someone to, and I wasn’t sure what to do about that.