Page 21 of Cruel Promise
Lie. Lie. Lie.
And like a glutton for the punishment he’s warned of, I give in to the impulse to lift my head as I push against the door.
Our gazes zero in on one another and his dark stare flickers, tracking my every move.
For a long second, I’m trapped under the weight of his gaze. An invisible hold taking over me.
His mouth curls into a cruel smile. It promises pleasure, sparking an involuntary shiver. But maybe … maybe it also promises a little pain.
SEVEN
KASEY
True to my word, I hit my books and play catch up on some of my classwork, but time moves agonizingly slow as I wait for Dominique to arrive. Pinpricks of nervous energy buzz beneath my skin. I can’t get thoughts of him out of my mind, which is both a good and a bad thing.
Good, because it means I’m not dwelling on the clusterfuck that is my life right now. But bad because Dominique Price should never take up this much of my head space.Ever.
Teeth clenching in irritation, I redirect my attention to the work spread before me, scribbling in my notebook as I reread a passage in my textbook for what feels like the hundredth time.
But no matter how hard I try to focus on my work, my thoughts continue straying back to Dominique. Urgh. Why? He’s not that interesting.
Dominique Price is arrogant. Domineering. He insists on telling me what to do. Who I can and can’t hangout with. He has the misguided notion that he has any say in how I live my life. And here I am, putting up with it.
“It’s just sex,” I say out loud.
Great, amazing, mind-blowing sex. But at the end of the day, it is still only sex.
“Don’t read into it.”
The fact that seeing me with Deacon pisses Dominique off says nothing to how he feels about me. He’s not jealous. Dominique doesn’t get jealous.
We’ve played this song and dance before. He’s possessive, but that has more to do with his animosity toward Deacon than it does with any interest in me.
This is no strings attached sex. Nothing less. Nothing more. Exactly how I want it to be.
Knock. Knock.
The pounding at my door startles me from my thoughts and I curse, realizing I haven’t changed since coming inside. What will he do when he sees I ignored his demand to be dressed in nothing but one of his shirts, waiting?
And why does the thought of pissing him off make my core clench in eager anticipation?
He warned he would punish me.
What does he have in mind? Will the punishment be worse for this slight?
Do I care?
Climbing from my bed where I have my school books scattered, I walk over to my bedroom door, eyeing it with wary expectation. I could ignore him. Pretend I’m not here.
Considering it, my eyes stray to the clock on my nightstand. That can’t be right. Brows furrowed, I realize it’s only a little after six.
Aaron wouldn’t be in bed this early. At least, I don’t think he would.
There’s a chance he called it an early night, what with traveling and jet lag, but seeing him earlier, I didn’t get the feeling he was running on fumes.
And if Aaron is still up, that means it’s not Dominique at my door. Who—
The doorknob twists to swing open on silent hinges.
