Page 8 of Malicious Intentions

He chuckles. “Where are you?”

“I’m between Stevenson and Hemlock. Why?”

“Glad you’re almost here. I can’t wait to see you. We’re going to have so much fun.”

I snort. “The feeling isn’t mutual. I’d rather have my fingernails ripped off than live with you for a semester.”

The fucker howls with laughter. “I love your sense of humor. You’re gonna make life interesting.”

“I’m gonna use your nuts as a punching bag and laugh like hell when they hurt so bad you can barely walk. You’ll be reminded of my hatred for you whenever you look at your black and blue balls.”

“You wanna suck my balls until they turn black and blue. That can be arranged.”

I snort, shaking my head. “I’m not responding to that nonsense.”

“On a serious note, any problems getting through the gate?”

I grit my teeth, my knuckles turning white from clenching the steering wheel so hard. “No. I breezed right through.”

“The power of the Whitmore name.” I hear the pride in his voice, and it pisses me off even more. “That last name will make your life easier.”

“It’snotmy last name,” I snap. “I don’t want?—”

“Oh, bellissima. It doesn’t matter what you want.”

“You know what? Fuck you, Evan.” I press the end button, cutting off whatever bullshit he’s about to say. I’m fuming over his asshole remarks. I hope he’s standing in the parking lot when I arrive. I’ll run his ass over, then back up and do it again.

I turn into the parking lot, disappointed Evan isn’t standing outside. The thought of his body flying over the hood of my car cheered me up. It’s the least he could do to welcome me to campus.

Spotting his red Lamborghini, I pull into the space beside it and cut the engine. I take a moment to enjoy the silence, my gaze raking over the gothic-looking yet fancy-as-hell Stone Ridge Apartment complex.

The trepidation of seeing my stepbrother again causes dread to drape over me like a curtain.

Movement pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn my head. The front door of Evan’s apartment opens, and he saunters out, a smirk curling his lips. The brown tips of his hair turn a fiery red beneath the sunlight. My gaze drops, and I swallow hard as I drink in his shirtless chest.

Although I try to stop myself, my gaze drops lower.Oh, God. He’s wearing gray sweatpants.Look away. Now!

Of course, I don’t. My gaze moves right to the outline of his massive dick, glued to it like a magnet.

Fuck. Is he wearing underwear?It sure as hell doesn’t look like it.

Tearing my eyes away, my gaze drops to his sneaker-clad feet before leisurely roaming up his body. I know I’m salivating over his sculpted physique, but I can’t help myself.

It’s just too damn bad his mouth ruins how perfect his body is.

A blush heats the apples of my cheeks when I glance up, noticing his amused, cocky-as-sin smile.

Oh, shit. The arrogant motherfucker noticed me staring.Now he’ll give me shit about it for days.

I want to beat my head off the steering wheel for being caught gaping at him, but the bastard will notice. He noticeseverythingabout me, which is the problem. It’s harder than hell to pretend he doesn’t exist when his unflinching gaze follows me everywhere.

I swallow hard, the erotic dream I had about him last night floating through my mind.The way he used his tongue to make me come before sliding inside?—

Squeezing the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white, I push the thought away.

Taking a deep breath before slowly exhaling, I grab the door handle and exit the vehicle.

The moment of truth has arrived.

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