Page 219 of Forbidden Lessons

Next is the small leather traveling bag from my nightstand. Measuring out two lines of coke from a small baggie, I snort them both, tipping my head back and closing my eyes as the rush hits me.

“Fuuuuck,” comes a voice behind me.

I twist on the bed to look behind me, frowning at Kai. He’s staring at me with owlish eyes, one hand on his pec, the other on his stomach.

“Dude, this fabric…” He drops his chin to his chest, rubbing his hands over the soft fabric of the white t-shirt I took out for him.

I huff through my nose and then look back at the faint traces of coke left on my nightstand. I wet the pad of my finger and run it through, gathering up every crumb.

“Come here, Kai.”

Chapter 64

Kai

This shit is messing with my head, big time. Seconds ago, I was in iPhone’s Escalade, telling them to follow Rooke’s car.

I made them drop me off, because I had no fucking idea what I was going to do, and I didn’t want them involved either way. Took some convincing, but they wanted to get back to the party, so they eventually caved.

Then Rooke was low-key accusing me of something, but I know Ezra’s okay, because I tried to strangle that fucker once and he just walked it off.

So why’d Rooke let me in? Why’s he letting me shower, instead of calling the cops?

Never mind any of that shit, why is Haven here? If she needed a safe space, he could have taken her back to GAZ.

What the fuck is this guy’s agenda?

Now he’s got me dressed in his—super freaking soft and fluffily delicious—clothes, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m even doing with my life right now.

“Come here, Kai.”

He’s not wearing a shirt. Doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush to put one on, either. Dude’s not buff, but he doesn’t have to be. He’s got that type of build that looks good with or withoutmuscle. Lean, strong. But he seriously needs some sun on him, because he’s way too pale.

Maybe chicks dig that these days. Who the fuck knows?

Not me.

I walk over to him, because it’s easier than coming up with an excuse not to. If he wanted to hurt me, all he had to do was raise that gun and pull the fucking trigger.

He moves fast once I’m in arm’s reach. Too fucking fast, like he’s expecting a fight. Guy doesn’t seem to realize how hard I’m rolling right now. How incapable of resisting I am.

Rooke grabs the back of my neck, his muscles cording as he holds tight.

Fuck. I can see his veins. Blue-green slashes running up his arm that pulse with power.

Then his finger is in my mouth, and it’s bitter as fuck, but he’s rubbing it over my gums, and I cup my hands to catch my teeth because sure as shit, they’re gonna fall out now that it’s all dead inside.

He releases me, gives me a little push on my chest. Tilts his head to the side. “That feel good?”

“The fuck, dude?” I run my tongue over my gums to check all my teeth are still there.

He smiles in a fucked up way, like he’s waiting to tell the punch line of a joke, and it’s gonna be a killer.

“Do you love her?” he murmurs.

I huff out a laugh. “What?”

“The girl out there that you came to rescue.” He points to the living room. “The one who bit you so hard it bled. The oneyoustrangled until it left marks on her skin.”

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