Page 30 of Hateful Games

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Since you wouldn’t know the difference being a virgin and all, fucking isn’t sleeping,” I whisper low against her mouth before taunting, “Tell me… Is your book porn still getting you off?”

Her nostrils flare, making my dick twitch. She pretends to ignore it but the redness on her cheeks gives her away. While my mind hates the truth that I’m even remotely attracted to her.

She’s the spawn of my mortal enemy.

“Malcolm is so dead,” she grumbles under her breath.

I narrow my gaze. “Did he bring you here?”

“Who else would? I don’t know anyone here.”

“Stop being a smart-ass.”

“I am smart,” she retorts. “And you can let go of my ass.”

I cup it harder, eliciting a tiny moan from her lips. Fuck! With every small and innocent reaction, she’s practically screaming her tempting body is untouched. Starved for pleasure. Craving to be taken to heights that being overcome with lust brings.

Filling my head with fantasies and visions I have no business imagining.

I’m getting her the hell out of here fast.

Besides, no way I’m watching another fucker circle around her like a shark, sniffing around what belongs to me. To steal her virtue that is rightfully mine. It doesn’t matter that I don’t want her any more than she wants me but that doesn’t alter the honest truth.

That Rosalie Kapoor is mine.

My possession.

My nemesis.

My kryptonite.

Kept caged her whole life, I’ll bet on anything that she’ll try to spread her wings. I haven’t overlooked her ill-fated attempts at dating over the years. I’ll be damned if I let it happen here under my watch.

I’ve went to extreme lengths—not that she knows—to ensure my claim on her.

“Hey! What’s that smirk for?” she snaps, watching me closely. I didn’t even realize I was. Just the thought of tampering with her life thrills me like a deviant.

“You’re smart,” I taunt. “Figure it out.”

Her lips press into a thin line, nose tilting haughtily as she glances away. But when she sees the hundreds of eyes on her, she goes back to staring at my chest.

“I’m waiting, smart-ass,” I probe.

“God! You’re still so fuc—

I walk faster, entering the tunnel and the moment we plunge into the darkness, she goes silent.

Too quiet.

I’m certain she doesn’t even breathe because she’s so still, until the light from the locker room filters in. Her eyes are unfocused when I observe her, making me frown. Her reaction isn’t of someone who is simply afraid of the dark.

Curiosity has me itching to ask but firstly, she would never answer, and secondly, I don’t care. At least, now I know of a way to make her shut up. Instead, I tighten my grip in her hair, making her break out of the haze.

She blinks, the light in her eyes returning as she aims it my way. “Where are you taking me?”

“Home.” I kick open the door to the locker room before closing it shut. “After you tell me why the fuck you decided to come early.”

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