Page 11 of Obsessed with my Temptation

It wanted the calloused fingers currently tapping impatiently on the table to push me down and hold me there. It wanted to be used by him, have him hold on to my hair, whisper filthy threats as my eyes watered.

Could I put myself in this position? Meet up with him several times a week, endure his intense gazes up close?

Was I going to risk him talking to me the same way he’d done two nights ago?

I met his blue eyes across the table. His jaw was set, but he didn’t look entirely hostile. More like uncomfortable.

We shared a secret, here, right in front of his sister, and it made the air between us thick with tension.

This was a bad idea.

“It’s a good cause,” I said, because I’d already said I would do it, and for once in my life, I didn’t want to be a coward.

I was going to face this head-on.

And maybe, just maybe, it would go away. It had to. There would be no more mystery between us, the mystique of the unknown would go up in smoke.

“Perfect!” Layla took out a piece of paper and pushed it to me alongside a pen. “Write your name and sign here, and you’re all set for tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

Jesus.

“You can say no,” Travis said, voice rough.

I met his gaze head-on, jaw tightening. “I already said I would do it.”

“But are you sure?” he insisted.

“Travis…” his sister started, watching him closely. “It seems like you’re trying to get him to say no.”

“Yeah, Travis. Is there a problem here?” I said, feeling suddenly bold and reckless.

I wasn’t the only one with a problem here.

Travis looked like he was biting his tongue.

Good, you dick. Suffer like me.

“Not at all.” He stood up swiftly, picking up a duffle bag from the floor and throwing it over his shoulder. “Are we done?”

Layla was looking between us now. Something in my chest tightened.

This was our secret.

“All set, be there tomorrow at seven-thirty.”

Travis muttered a quick goodbye before walking away, leaving behind a trail of masculine deodorant that would be imprinted in my brain forever.

“Well, this will be fun, won’t it?”

Yeah, I didn’t think so.

Chapter 4

Travis

If I hit the punching bag any harder, it was going to topple to the floor and I’d have to give Coach explanations. Or, more likely, it would fall on my foot and make me see stars, which was probably what I needed in order to stop thinking about Scott Matthews.

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