Page 47 of Devious Obsession
Not particularly.
Am I attracted to him?
Too fucking much.
It’s an awkward position to be in, caught between wanting to knee him in the balls and suck on them.
But then his mouth is moving up my neck, pausing at my ear. “Two-minute head start,” he says, his voice just barely audible over the music. “You know the rules.”
The lack of rules.
I meet his eyes. He’s not joking. There’s one safe word, and that’s the only thing that will save me from him. But also… we need this fight.
The night after the summer party, I stood in the bathroom ofhischildhood home, feeling like an outsider. My cheekbone was bruised, my skin scraped all over. My forehead had the slightest lump where I had headbutted him.
But I didn’t hate it. In fact, the bruises made me feel proud, in a way. Relieved.
Someone saw me, and they didn’t hate it. They reveled in the way I wanted to be treated.
My heart picks up speed, and I hurry away from Steele. Anywhere in the house is foolish, and it’s not yet so cold that I’d freeze to death outside. I duck down and try to break his line of sight in the crowd, weaving toward the front door.
But also…
I like foolish.
So I head out the front door and jump off the porch, staying low as I head around the side of it. I keep out of sight of the windows, hunched, and make my way to the backyard. There are people out here, gathered around a fire, but I ignore them. I peek in the window and immediately find Steele.
He’s looking down at his watch.
After another few seconds, his head lifts. He glances around, then goes toward the front door. I slip back in and weave amongst the people, finding my way to another room that I hadn’t yet seen. There’s beer pong set up on the dining table, two couples playing, and a couch in the corner with a game station.
I rotate in a circle, debating.
Then I catch sight of Steele coming inside, and my heart ratetriples. I whirl around and bolt for the closed door, half hoping it will lead to a garage or something. Instead, it opens to stairs that descend into the dark.
I glance back.
Steele’s spotted me, his dark gaze locked on me as he pushes his way through the people.
Fuck it.
I rush down the stairs, stopping short at the setup. It seems like just another party room—a pool table, a game console, a couch and chairs. The only light is coming from the electronics.
“Nowhere to run, is there?” Steele comes down slowly. “Now what?”
Well, backing down isn’t an option.
When he lunges for me, I jump sideways. He misses and leaves the stairs open, so I do the sensible thing and bolt for them. But sudden pain sears through my scalp, and I’m yanked backward. He has my hair in his fist, and he drags me down the rest of the way. Until I hit the carpeted floor on my back.
He circles me and licks his lips. My eyes are adjusting to the light faster, the red tones from the gaming systems giving him an eerie, devilish look.
When he doesn’t pounce again, I shove myself back to my feet.
This time, I fly athim, a small screech leaving my lips. I scratch at him, claw at his arms and chest until he captures my wrists. He slams me face-first against the wall. The air is forced from my lungs. He lifts my wrists, keeping them trapped at my back, and my shoulders burn.
“Fuck you,” I spit, struggling to free myself.
He yanks my leggings down and reaches between my legs. I close my eyes when his fingers slide against my clit, then my slit. He thrusts two fingers into me and twists.
