Page 121 of Falling in Reverse

“No.”

His teeth delicately sink into my skin as a weak warning that he doesn’t like my answer but isn’t totally surprised by it either.

He turns us both so that my back is now to the hallway we just came down and he chuckles so deep and fucking delicious in his throat. “Good. I wouldn’t want to miss any of the fun.”

My phone is shoved back into my small little satchel, and I stare up at hazels that look like galaxies of greens and browns.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

I feel a small blush creep up through my already heated skin, but I ignore it. He can call me out, I don’t care. “You don’t like me looking at you, Reevie?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he counters, propping his elbow on the wall next to us. “I’d just prefer for you to look at me like that when you’re not double-guessing yourself.”

“About?”

“Me.”

My eyes clench on their own and I’m allowed a few seconds of chaos in my head before I open them and still find Reeve standing there.

“Too bad you’re not totally on my side, because maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to convince you to go somewhere. So I can get on my knees and disappear between your pretty thighs and show you how interested I am in learning more about you.”

Fuck. Me. Damn.

I clench my legs together, my pussy beginning to throb at the thought of his shady blonde hair threaded through my fingers as his mouth explores.

“Might have to take a raincheck on that, though, baby,” he whispers, and before I can form a retort or question on why, a hard body presses possessively into my spine, followed by the familiar smell of cedar and melon.

“Because it’s finally my time to have some fun with the major pain in my ass from South Shore,” Torin whispers into my ear, dispatching a violent shiver to sprint up my spine.

And that’s when I know, I really fucked up by coming here.

THIRTY-TWO

bay

Torin wraps his palm around my mouth as if he’s about to kidnap my ass in his stepdad’s house, and I roll my eyes at the dramatics.

When we’re inside a dark library that looks like it came out of a medieval castle, with dark bookcases, leather furniture, and tall windows to let in the natural light from outside, Torin spins me around into a shelf of books and slams my spine mercilessly into it.

Then he’s in my face the next.

“Ever hear of the book The Documents in the Case,” Torin asks me, and I groan, noticing Reeve plop down in one of his leather chairs out of the corner of my eye.

“Don’t read anything but car manuals,” I reply, holding his stare and composure against being caged between him and the endless books on his shelf. “Or shit for school.”

“It’s based on a 1922 murder case about a man named Percy Thompson. He was allegedly murdered by his wife, Edith, and her lover, Freddy, to which the story went nationwide.”

“Not a big history buff, Pretty Boy. Say what you need to say and?—”

“It was when female sexuality was considered dangerous and practically evil by weak-minded men who couldn’t keep their filthy hands to themselves.” He leans forward, a few inches from my mouth, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’d kiss me. “And my filthy hands aren’t afraid to tear into a well-known prospect of South Shore if she doesn’t keep her fat ass out of my sight like I’ve been tellin’ her to do for what feels like a fucking century at this point.”

I glimpse over my shoulder to look at said body part when his hand seizes my throat and drives the back of my head into a bunch of dusty old hardbacks.

“What’s the master plan, Wildfire? You gonna to try to gain Emilio’s love so he starts handing you the keys to the kingdom?”

“That’s going to be a hell no for me.”

“And why is that so hard to believe?”

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