Page 82 of Too Sweet
“You enjoyed it? I thought you were just helping me fall asleep.”
“It’s not a book I’d choose, but it wasn’t boring.” He gets up, throwing a pair of sweatpants on. “Come on. Get moving. Let’s get this day over and done with, so I can have you naked again.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Mia
I TRY NOT TO WINCE as I get up to leave the auditorium, but Nico sure didn’t help when he put me on all fours earlier. Sex this morning was an entirely different experience from last night, and if I’m being honest, I liked it better today.
He was more himself, no longer worried about hurting me. He dominated every second, barking orders and manhandling me into the positions he wanted. I hope he won’t stop controlling our sex life because I love his possessive, demanding tone. He knows what he wants, what I want, and how to make it happen.
“Not so fast, kitten.” Brandon blocks my way when I step into the corridor. He backs me into a corner, a scowl twisting his face. “We gotta talk.”
“I have nothing to tell you.”
“You sure about that? I hear you’re not liking the attention you’re getting. My boys say you’re avoiding them, shooting them down.”
I fold my arms, hoping it’ll be enough to stop him pressing into me. “Your boys are correct.”
“Who told you about the prize?” He glides his finger along the line of fabric on my chest and tilts my chin when I don’t answer. “It was Justin, wasn’t it? Cheeky fucker. I’ll deal with him later, and you...” He sweeps his thumb along my jaw. “You have one last chance to play ball. I want that first, Mia.”
“And yet you let your friends try and score with me. That’s an odd way of sayingI want you.”
“I don’t wantyou. I want your pussy. There’s a difference.”
I grit my teeth, pushing down nausea threatening to eject the contents of my stomach into his face. Maybe I should just roll with it. Projectile-vomiting all over the star quarterback would be the highlight of my college career.
“You’re too late,” I say, swallowing hard. “Both I and my pussy are taken.”
He cocks an eyebrow, looking me over, surprise fading from his snobbish face quickly. “Nice try, kitten. I’m not falling for that. My boys played nice until now, but you just had to ruin the fun, didn’t you? Imagine that instead of asking you out, they’ll get handsy.”
“That’s sexual assault. Even you’re not stupid enough to order that.”
He traces one hand down my side, making me shudder with disgust. “You think anyone will prosecute them for slapping your curvy ass? I doubt it. Let’s see how long it’ll take before you come crawling,beggingme to fuck you.” He pats my butt, and on reflex, I slam my knee into his groin.
“You won’t like what follows if you ever put your hands on me again.”
He holds his breath and his balls, doing a surprisingly decent job of not doubling over. “Twenty grand,” he grumbles, his face changing colors like a kaleidoscope. “And I’m opening the game toeveryguy on campus.”
That does it.
The thought of being harassed by the entire male population of this nightmarish ecosystem has my stomach twisting into tight knots. I’m flooded with images of obnoxious, hungry-for-cash guys cornering me in empty corridors, forcing me to use the self-defense moves the triplets taught me.
Brandon’s friends aren’t short for cash, but there’s plenty of students here whose parents don’t own yachts and ocean-view mansions.
“You wouldn’t dare...” I suck in harsh breaths, shepherding my raging nerves. “Brandon, this isn’t funny.”
He doesn’t reply, walking away with a triumphant smile while I try to sever the tendrils of an onrushing panic attack. It proves useless when, in the thinning crowd, I spot Blair surrounded by a tight circle of friends. She silently simmers, clenching and unclenching her fists, jealousy painting her face red.
She made my life miserable since kindergarten. I know what she’s capable of... she can bring more hurt than the twenty grand prize. The cruelty she threw my way over the years flashes before my eyes, turning my stomach further.
That’s it. Not even mint can help now.
I faintly register that the triplets entered the building, but I don’t wait for them to come closer. I run toward the bathroom, one hand clasped over my mouth as I burst into the first cubicle, and lean over the toilet, dropping to my knees.
The door opens again, probably Cody, Colt, or Conor hot on my tail while my breakfast and coffee pour into the toilet. I’ve no idea why the triplets are still in my corner, but they’ve had my back for a year now, and the thought of losing them has my heart breaking clean in two.
Wave after wave of powerful shudders shake my body dotted with goosebumps. My throat burns. My eyes water. There’s nothing left to throw up, but dry heaves aren’t easing.
