Page 39 of The Fall

“I know you want what you can’t have,” I said heatedly as he came to a halt in the lobby.

He moved in front of me, then pulled me to his chest, his face twisted in fury as my head began to spin. I sucked in a breath at the intensity of his stare. He was close, too close. His eyes burned into me, making my lips part on a silent gasp. He towered over me as I felt his body tremble in anger. I studied his strong dark brows, perfectly sculpted face, and full lips. I wanted him in that moment more than I wanted anything in a long time. “I’m going to make up my mind on exactly how much of this shit I intend to swallow, and I have a feeling it won’t be much more.”

I ripped myself away from his embrace. He refused my retreat, grabbing my arms and holding them behind my back with one hand, his lips inches from mine, his stare murderous. A slow burn started inside me and quickly spread as I watched him. His expression turned smug as he read my reaction to him. I twisted against him, my body betraying me. Angry with the sudden need to give in, I quickly started rambling. “Do yourself a favor, old buddy. Go fu—”

He pressed his fingers to my mouth, muting my words. “You loved me once, Dallas Whitaker. You loved me, and I loved you.” His eyes beckoned me for acknowledgment, and when I remained quiet, he cursed, dragged me outside, and practically threw me in Josh’s passenger seat.

“Have a great night, Dally. It was memorable,” Dean said, leaning over me to buckle my seat belt. Tears threatened as I inhaled his scent and studied his profile, every fiber of my being leaning in toward him. He addressed Josh next. “She’s all yours,” he bit out before glaring at me again, slamming my door before heading back inside. The next few hours were a blur of porcelain and cold showers, and then I finally drifted to the place I’d been praying to visit all day—darkness.

Dean

Then

“What?” She grinned.

“Nothing.” I grinned back.

She was sitting opposite me on our dilapidated, pea-green couch, perched cross-legged with a pen cap in her mouth. Luckily, we were alone. It was Saturday after all, and my militant girlfriend had insisted we spend it studying.

“Well, now that you have taken my attention away from my studies, Dr. Martin, you have to tell me.”

“No, I don’t,” I taunted, holding her socked foot in my lap, my thumb making slow, deliberate circles on the skin of her ankle. “I love it when you call me doctor.”

“Well, you might get the title first, but we both know I’ll wipe the floor with your ass in recognition and publication. Now stop,” she said, jerking her foot away from me. “I need to study.”

“What a completely unsupportive and bullshit statement. Don’t be jealous, Dallas. There’s room for both of us.”

“Hmph, have you chosen your specialty yet?” I ignored her as I resumed my slow, seductive torture. I would get her back for it my way, which would be her begging for mercy beneath me.

“I didn’t think so.” She looked back down at her book with a slight smile on her lips, trying to ignore the effect I had on her.

We’d spent the last month hitting the books and exhausting each other in bed. I couldn’t get enough of her, and I knew she felt the same. Most nights, she would finish class, then head over to the frat house to cook huge meals for the guys. She was a horrible cook, and none of us had the heart to tell her, instead choosing to scarf down her offering. They were more than helpful with her in the kitchen and even more appreciative after, but I was learning to ignore it. I’d made it very clear she belonged to me, and they gave us hell as they chanted some of the things they’d heard through the walls.

Classless.

I’d considered renting an apartment so we could spend the rest of my last year in peace, but Dallas insisted it didn’t matter, and she actually liked hanging with the guys. And she was right—she fit. We fit, and I couldn’t have imagined it any better. Even her bitchy roommate, Cammie, would make an appearance at the frat house once in a while. I only humored her because she seemed protective of Dallas, which made her my ally.

I raked my fingertips softly up her legs, underneath her sweats, and she batted my hand away.

“I’ll leave,” she warned as I crawled toward her.

“It’s Saturday, Dr. Whitaker,” I murmured, gripping the side of the couch as I hovered above her. She slunk down into the cushion, hiding her smile.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Dean. I have a test Monday!” Her words were exasperated, but her heaving chest told me all I needed to know. I leaned down and took her lips in a slow kiss. She pushed the book that was lying on her chest to the floor.

“You’re an animal,” she said between kisses, pulling my shirt over my head. I shut her up with my tongue, and she caught it, sucking hard. My already hard dick twitched in appreciation. I pulled back to gaze down at her.

“I’m your animal.”

“Finally.”

“Spaniard!” I heard Dallas call from across the quad. I laughed as I watched her running toward me. “Spaniard, I did it!”

She made a beeline for me, a single piece of paper in her hand. She didn’t slow as she approached, hurling herself at me, landing on me with enough force to knock me off my feet. I felt the thud in my back as she straddled my hips, kissing my face mercilessly.

“Yes, Dallas?” I said with a chuckle as her lips rained repeated kisses over my face.

“I did it, Spaniard. I aced it!”

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