Page 17 of Tell Me Lies

“They aren’t up anywhere, Maddie.” My name slipped off his tongue in a sinful caress.

A shiver worked its way along my spine and around my stomach like the sun went behind a cloud. His fingers flickered on the pamphlets as he passed another out right in front of me.

“You utter asshole,” I grated, shoving him backward. My British accent thickened in my fury.

That push should have done nothing. He should have laughed down at me, as always.

Instead, karma came through again—damn, was I chalking up those runs—and he tripped over his high-gloss patent shoes to land ass first in the fountain, fancy footwear dangling over his head. A bemused expression settled on his face as fliers fluttered around him, my watermelon silk-covered butt absorbing the water around him like so much bullshit.

Who’s your bully now?

The courtyard held its collective breath. Not me. I smirked as he stared at me, lost in his own world. Water soaked into the material and by the time he hauled himself out of the bird-shit-filled trough, his clothes clung to his hard body in all the right places.

“Do you like to play games, Sutcliff?” he asked, his voice low enough to resonate through my bones.

Dangerous.

His lips curled in a dark smile that promised all the cruelest things, his fingers tangling in the blue streak that decorated my otherwise black hair. The strands wound around long, slim fingers, and he gave a gentle tug, drawing me forward like we were the only two on the green, and not surrounded by a hundred or more students gawking while we flirted.

Is that what this is?

When had the air become charged in sexual tension that bound us together?

His eyes wreathed in blue flame, his tongue flickered out to graze his bottom lip. I half expected it to be split like a demon’s as he wound me a little closer until the water from his damp shirt wicked onto my bare skin.

“You’re not worth playing games with,” I whispered, my voice breathy, weak. I hated the flare of dominance in those vicious eyes that devoured me on the spot.

I won’t be eaten by the likes of you.

“Oh, yes, you will. And you’ll enjoy screaming for me,” he murmured, dipping his head until his words brushed my lips in a phantom caress.

“Like hell,” I retorted, still sounding like a cheap phone sex operator.

I pushed at his chest, but didn’t manage to regain the space I needed. His fingers still wound in my hair, his other hand slipped beneath my white leather jacket, stroking cold tendrils across the exposed strip of skin at my waist beneath my crop top in an undeniably intimate gesture. The sort of homage a lover would pay before the main event.

Air sucked from my throat, my world shrinking to focus on those ocean-deep eyes.

“You will. What shall we play? What would you risk for me?”

“Nothing.” I swallowed, glaring at him. “Don’t—”

“Touch you? But I’ll own you soon, Maddie. So soon.”

“Maybe I’ll make you scream.” The words slipped from my lips to his without my permission.

“Is that what you think you can do?” His voice held an amused note as he considered me, his head tipped to one side. His fingertips remained marble cold on my skin, turning small circles there. “If you think you can do it … what do you want?”

“You’ll be my bitch for the week. Do all the menial tasks. Cleaning, laundry, homework assignments, and deliveries. Smoothie runs. One week.” I’d enjoy seeing him brought down a peg, though my anger in that moment was less aimed at him than the brother who couldn’t love me any more than I could love him.

I knew it was wrong, but this felt right.

“Accepted.”

Damn, I thought he’d put up more of a fight.

I should’ve asked for more.

“And what would you do to me?” Again, breathy anticipation filled my tone. I clenched my teeth.

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