Page 133 of Quiet Obsession
I smooth the seams over my waist, surprised how well the dress fits. The cinched middle pulls everything in, the skirt flaring enough to show off my legs without feeling obscene. I turn left, then right, checking every angle.
A slow smile curves my mouth. I look pretty... and immediately wonder what Creed would think.
I picture his eyes dragging over me, the way they darken when he likes something, the way his jaw tightens before he says anything. I imagine his hands at my waist, dragging me closer...
But Evan’s back.
You don’t really pull off girly.
“Yeah? Well, you don’t really pull off manly in those tight white jeans,” I rant. “Small dickandsmall dick energy with how you always boast about Daddy’s money and that fuckingTeslahe bought you!”
The bathroom door flies open, making me jump back. Creed takes the whole damn height of the frame, his gaze cutting left and right, fists clenched harder than his teeth.
“Who were you—” He cuts himself off, taking me in inch by inch, his eyes darkening with desire.
At the same time, the line of his mouth goes razor sharp and heat flares my cheeks, gaze dropping to the floor.Maybe I don’t look as good as I thought.
“Bad girl, Millie,” he grits out, stepping forward. “You trying to get me killed?” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Fuck, baby... I don’t know whether to tell you how beautiful you look or search for whoever you were yelling at.”
“No one’s here. I was arguing with a ghost.”
“Whose ghost?”
“Evan’s. He told me I don’t have the body for fitted dresses. That I can’t pull off girly.”
Creed drags his eyes down my frame once more, even slower. “He’s anidiot, Millie. A stupid, insecure, lucky fuckingboy.”
“Lucky?”
“Very.” He steps closer, his hands finding my waist. “He has no idea how lucky he is that your brother wouldn’t let me kill him.”
My mouth goes dry. I never asked how much my brother told his friends, but my pulse climbs higher and I wonder if Creed’s seen me half-naked on Evan’s bed, eyes wide and teary.
“Did you watch the videos?” I ask, staring at a speck of dirt on the floor.
“No. Hyde made me, Noah, and Dash swear we wouldn’t.” He comes closer, his hands finding my waist. “You’re perfect, baby. I can barely keep my hands to myself as it is and now...” His fingers trail down, mapping the curve of my hip, and then he spins me so I can see myself in the mirror. “I hope your first aid kit is stocked upbecause you’ll need it later.”
I take a step back, pressing myself harder against his muscular chest. “Why?”
“Lookat you. Sweet, gorgeous,badgirl, Millie.” He dips his head, kissing along the curve of my neck. “You think I can focus on beating the shit out of Felix if you’re out there, looking like this?” He moves higher, teeth grazing my earlobe. “All I’ll be thinking about is who else is watching you, who else I need to knock out for thinking the wrong thing.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” I argue, a little breathless while desire beats through my veins. “You want me to change? You know... so you can focus?”
“No.” He juts his hips forward, printing his hard cock against my lower back. “But make sure no one touches you or you’ll see exactly what kind of a violent...” He kisses my neck, “...ruthless...” Another kiss, “...unhinged man you let crawl between your legs.”
40
Creed
Bass thrums through the North Wing common room, the lights are dimmed, and alcohol flows every which way.
People pat me on the back, congratulating me on another knockout. Due to my recent exceptionally good mood, I granted Felix’s wish tonight. The guy’s been asking for a rematch since I knocked him out inside half a minute two years ago. He walked into the cage tonight, high on speed or some shit, eyes bloodshot, and walked out with a broken nose but his head held high.
The punches he landed did wonders for his ego. He even told Hyde he’d almost had me.
The fucking audacity.
He didn’t have shit. Yeah, he roughed me up, but his skills are not the real reason my lip’s busted and my jaw’s bruised.
