Page 68 of Snitches and Serpents

“About what?” Brandi replies. She sounds, and looks, impatient and irritated.

“I know that you were worried about the reputation of your sorority, and I understand why you had to cut ties with me, but all of that has been solved now. As you know, nothing has happened these past two weeks. So you really don’t need to worry about Tristan anymore.”

My eyes widen.

Oh really? They don’t need to worry about me, huh?

A disbelieving chuckle escapes my chest.

“Yes, I am aware that you have not been the center of any scandals lately,” Brandi replies. “But that still doesn’t…”

She trails off as I straighten from the wall and start towards them. Since Elle has her back to me, she can’t see me coming.

“That still doesn’t what?” she asks Brandi. “I promise you that it?—”

“There you are, sweetheart,” I say, and drape an arm over her shoulders.

It startles her enough that she flinches. Whipping her head towards me, she stares up at me with stunned eyes. I grin down at her.

Brandi clears her throat dismissively. “Come on, girls. Let’s go dance instead.”

That dark-haired girl, Mei or whatever her name is, casts an apologetic look at Elle. But she and the rest of her friends still follow Brandi out onto the dance floor.

“No, wait,” Elle begins, reaching a hand towards them.

But they’re swallowed by the crowd within seconds.

The moment they’re gone, she whirls around, ducks out from underneath my arm, and shoves me in the chest. Hard.

“What are you doing?” she snaps at me.

As always, the moment her hands appear on my body, fire pulses underneath my skin. God fucking damn it. She really needs to stop touching me.

I advance on her, using my size to force her to back up even though her hands are still on my chest.

“What does it look like?” I demand as I continue backing her towards the wall and away from the crowd. “I was looking for you, sweetheart.”

“No, you—” she cuts herself off as her back suddenly connects with the wall.

She glances over her shoulder as if surprised. Then she returns her attention to me, and pulls a very impressive scowl down over her features.

“No, you weren’t,” she says, finishing her sentence. Her eyes sharpen as she glares up at me. “And don’t call me sweetheart.”

Cocking my head, I let a sly smile spread across my lips as I stare her down. “I’ve licked your cunt, but I can’t call you sweetheart?”

Her cheeks flush a deep shade of red. Snapping her gaze from side to side, she frantically checks if someone overheard us. But the groups closest to us aren’t paying us any mind. They laugh and talk and drink amongst themselves. The music drowns out the people farther away, which should mean that it’s doing the same for us.

And even if someone had overheard, I wouldn’t have cared. But apparently, Elle does.

“Don’t…” she begins, looking adorably flustered. “You can’t… Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” I smirk down at her. “It’s the truth.”

“It’s not… That wasn’t…”

“In fact, we’re in a pretty similar position right now, aren’t we? You up against a wall and your hands on my body.”

Her gaze darts down to where she still has her palms pressed against my chest. That touch has been practically burning through my clothes for the past minute, but I haven’t been able to remove her hands without making it obvious that it’s affecting me.

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