Page 27 of Study Games

“That’s a whole different level of kink.” I tilted my head to one side, and leaned down to lick the corner of her mouth until she wriggled in my hold. “Why are you fighting me?”

“Bad habit?” She shrugged. “Self preservation? If I let you inside, will you keep your hands to yourself?”

I didn’t bother pretending. “Fuck, no.”

Her eyes burned bright and dark at once. “Your mouth?”

I shook my head, letting the hint of a smile play at my lips. Gods, teasing her felt good. Right. “No, Waverly. I’m gonna talk, listen, and kiss you all damn night long.”

She swallowed. “Just my lips.”

I shrugged. “Whatever set is on display.”

She made a choking sound that wrapped around my cock and strangled me until I panicked I’d come in my pants right then on the damn street.

“Fine, Jax. Since I have zero control over everything else, why not this too? Do whatever you fucking well like.” She threw her hands up and broke away from me. Metal glinted in the poor lighting as she pulled a key from her pocket.

I sauntered after her, trailing my fingertips along the curve above her ass. “Keep that potty mouth going, and we can work on that list of kinks you mentioned.”

She laughed at me over her shoulder, sharp and clear. “You wanna know my kinks? Trust. Control. Security.”

I caught her waist, pressing my lips to her cheek when her breath stalled. “And if I promise you these things?” I released her before she could forge an answer.

Waverly stumbled forward, wrapping her arms around herself. I followed her at a safe distance, pausing when she shot me a confused look over her shoulder.

“Are you coming?” Her words crashed into my laugh as I wound my arms around her waist to kiss her neck while she fiddled with the lock at her door.

“Do you think it’s safe that I know where you live, Waverly?” I licked a line along her throat, tilting her head back until she gasped.

Her short nails clawed at my wrist as her door creaked open, but we weren’t inside yet.

“Jax,” she gasped, pressing her body tight to mine.

“Yes, Waverly,” I coaxed, trailing my fingertips between her breasts to close my palm around the gentle curve of her belly. My hand fit perfectly around her body and I groaned softly into her neck.

“Inside,” she whimpered. “Please.”

“Oh, I will be,” I promised her darkly. “But you’ll beg a whole lot longer than that.” I kissed the corners of her mouth until her small noises grew louder.

Then I pushed her across the threshold, enjoying watching her trip over her toes on the threadbare carpet, and gently closed the door behind me, locking us in.

“Sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Waverly risked sassing me as I grabbed for her again, unable to keep my hands to myself for more than a second.

She knew what she did to me–dammit, she had to. From the way her hands softened over my wrists, her fingertips curving to caress my scars in a way that hurt like fuck though not in any physical sense, I underestimated the languages this girl spoke.

“Yeah.” My voice rasped with need. I shoved my desire deep. Rushing her would achieve nothing except screwing up what little foundation we’d built in the last few minutes. Plus, I needed to take my time with her. Sure, I could fuck her against the nearest surface–wall, door, the fucking floor–but just filling her with my seed hit only one kink button and tonight I’d tick them all off.

Nor did fucking he fast earn her trust or the words that freed her from the intimate touch of a pair of predators I needed to rip apart–after I figured out what they had on her that damaged her so damn deep.

Finally, I let her up for air,my chest heaving like I chased her across campus and up the stairs. Waverly watched me through dazed, hooded eyes, her thick lashes sweeping across her cheeks in a lazy fashion. After a moment the haze of arousal diminished, and I reached for her again, but she shook her head, trotting back a step with her hands up in warning.

“Alright. Well, welcome to my extremely humble, cheap and shitty abode.”

“You swear a lot when you’re angry. Kinda cute.” I caught her hand as she turned circles in the small space as a tour guide. “Why aren’t you living on campus?”

“You think they give scholarship students real Rippton U digs?” she muttered, managing to keep her voice free of bitterness.

I wondered at the tenacity of this girl, her strength. Her fingers flexed stiffly in mine, then curled tentatively. I wondered how long it had been since she’d had some sort of human contact with someone who cared for her.

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