Page 43 of Snitches and Serpents

But then her gaze lands on me, and she stops short.

Her eyes take in my bare chest for a second. The muscles. The tattoos. And I swear I can almost see her eyes darken. Not in rage. But in forbidden desire.

Then that one brief second passes. With a quick shake of her head, she recovers and throws the door shut behind her as she continues to storm into the room.

“You son of a bitch!” she screams at me.

I draw back in surprise.

I don’t think I have ever heard her swear before. Even back in high school, she never said things like fuck or shit or bitch or even something as harmless as damn. It sounds strange coming out of her mouth. Strange, but not wrong.

Lifting her hands, she plants her palms square against my chest and tries to shove me backwards. “You set me up!”

A jolt shoots through me when her hands touch my chest.

Yanking my own hands up, I quickly grab her wrists and use my superior strength to force her hands away from my body.

Fucking hell, I have just finished taking an hour-long ice-cold shower in order to try to recover after our damn kiss. I can’t have her touching my naked skin like this. It messes with my head.

“You slipped a knife into my pocket!” she continues, still screaming at me. “And then you tipped off campus police.”

My gaze flicks over her body. She’s no longer wearing that hoodie. Instead, she’s wearing a thin white shirt and a pair of jeans shorts that leave her curves on full display. It’s very distracting. And an odd choice of attire. Especially since it’s a windy and overcast evening.

Suspicion swirls inside me as I try and fail to locate her phone in the pockets of her shorts. She’s not carrying a purse either.

So instead of replying to her accusation, I act on my instincts.

Using my grip on her wrists, I spin her around and bend her over. She lets out a huff as her chest connects with the flat surface of my desk. After twisting her arms up behind her back, I shift my grip so that I’m holding both of her wrists in one hand. Then I use my free hand to reach for the phone I can now see tucked into the back pocket of her shorts.

She sucks in a sharp breath as I slide the phone out. “No. Don’t?—”

I cut her off with a harsh laugh.

One glance at the screen informs me that I was right. She was trying to record our conversation. It was a dead giveaway when she spelled it out like that while also wearing something distracting and not having her phone visible in her front pocket. Damn, she really would make a terrible criminal. And a terrible snitch too, for that matter.

While still keeping her bent over my desk, I click the button to end the recording. Then I delete it too before showing her the screen.

“Nice try,” I mock.

She struggles futilely against my hold on her. “Let me go.”

Ignoring her, I lean forward and place her phone on the high shelf above my desk where she won’t be able to reach it. Unless she climbs up on the desk, that is. But if she tried, I’d be able to pull her back down before she could get it.

She wiggles on the desk again.

And because I’m leaning forward like that, her ass grinds right against my cock.

Lightning crackles up my spine.

I snap my mouth shut and grit my teeth hard as fire floods my veins. My cock hardens immediately. But thankfully, Elle doesn’t seem to realize what just happened because she simply continues struggling against my grip.

After drawing in a deep breath through my nose, I force myself to get my fucking shit together and suppress the dark desire that courses through me whenever Elle touches me.

With the phone safely out of reach, I move my free hand back down and instead wrap it around the back of her neck. I know that I should move back a little so that my thighs and crotch isn’t pressing against her ass and the back of her legs, but I can’t bring myself to do it. So instead, I convince myself that I’m remaining that close purely for intimidation.

Elle lets out a frustrated noise as I use my grip on the back of her neck to pin her cheek against the smooth wooden desk while my other hand keeps her wrists trapped behind her back.

“Did you really think that would work?” I demand.

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