Page 6 of Corrupt Me

My breath hitched, the muscles in my lower abdomen twitching. Any hangover that threatened to consume me was pushed aside by more pleasant sensations.

I’d dreamed of Tristan touching my body a million times before, but nothing prepared me for the electricity sparking over my skin. If a single brush of his fingers could steal my breath, I shivered to think what his lips could do.

His fingers stopped their slow exploration, and I realized I hadn’t knocked his hand away, but in my defense, my brain had stopped functioning. Those ridiculously long lashes fluttered open, ensnaring my gaze with such heat. I could do nothing but stare back. Desire I didn’t want flooded me.

This isn’t happening, is it?

Tristan won’t kiss me.

But even as the little voice inside me tried to rationalize my thoughts, the devil on my other shoulder said, hell yes, he would. Tristan had no morals. He had no shame. It was only one of many reasons he hadn’t come home these past six months. His parents and Tristan never agreed on anything.

Tristan’s head dipped, and I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, uncertain what I should do or say. A good girl would run from the room and pray no one saw me leaving Tristan’sbedroom half-naked. With Preston’s room across the hall and mine a few doors down, there was a good chance I’d go unnoticed. That was what a good, smart girl should do, one who was loyal to her boyfriend.

Or...I could stay in his bed and see what happened next.

Shit.

Why did he have to come home? Why was he at Lang’s last night? Why did I have to end up in his bed on the day he returned?

His eyes raked over my body. Only my calves and ankles were tangled in the crisp gray sheets. I suddenly felt so exposed in only a tee. His tee. A wicked smile played on his lips, my skin warming under his scrutiny. “If you keep looking at me like that, Ever, I will make you wish you had met me first.”

I swallowed the tight lump in my throat.

Me?

He was the one who was unraveling me with his eyes. I shouldn’t want him to kiss me, to be closer. My chest rose and fell, my nipples tingling. He wasn’t being serious. He couldn’t be. Until a minute ago, Tristan barely acknowledged I existed, other than being his brother’s girlfriend, regardless that I’d spent more time with his own family than he did.

My hand moved on its own as if someone else had taken over my body, someone with more ovaries and guts. I trailed my fingernails over the feathered wings inked on both pecs. Thorns and ivy were tattooed down his sides and across his lower abdomen. It was surreal to be touching Tristan...and shameless, but a groan pulled from his lips, and it was all the encouragement I needed.

He caught my wrist, yanking it off his chest. “You shouldn’t be here.” His voice was clipped and cold.

When I lifted my gaze to his face, frigidness radiated in his eyes, a look that would have made grown men cower. Hot andcold. It was impossible to keep up, especially when I wasn’t in top form. I needed to be sober to go toe-to-toe with Tristan Fucking Malone.

I shouldn’t be in his bed, but saying it didn’t change the fact I was. “It’s not like I had a choice,” I muttered, reminding him just how I got in this position.

“I didn’t want to haul your intoxicated ass all over the house. My room was the closest,” he explained.

Tangles of my hair hung around my face, and I jerked my hand from his grasp, sitting up in the bed. “Sorry to inconvenience you, but no one asked you to bring me home.” Let alone to his room.

This was how every conversation Tristan and I had ended, with us snapping at each other, and then it would be days or months before we saw each other again. We couldn’t seem to help ourselves.

“Do us both a favor...stay out of my way,” he warned.

My heart started to knock so hard in my chest it hurt, but I forced a defiant look even as I said, “Fine. But last night, you got inmyway. It is not my fault I ended up in your bed.”

His jewel-studded brow shot up. “Isn’t it? You shouldn’t have been at one of Lang’s parties. You don’t belong in that world.”

My chin tipped up. “Don’t tell me where I belong. You don’t know anything about me or what I’m going through.” I shoved out of the bed, searching the floor for my clothes. Unlike Preston’s bedroom, Tristan had shit tossed everywhere. For someone who had only just gotten home, he sure had plenty of time to mess it up. I kicked a pile of clothes nearest the bed, praying my skirt from last night was somewhere in there.

I heard the mattress groan behind me and assumed he had rolled out of bed. “If Preston gave a damn about you, he never would have let you go.”

“Preston doesn’tletme do anything,” I replied, whirling toward him, my temper rising along with the pounding in my head. It had returned with a vengeance. Tristan sauntered to the closet buck-ass naked. The muscles rippled down his frame, black ink covering the tan skin, making my mouth go dry.

God, why does he have to be so beautiful?

And holy shit. He’d been naked in bed with me.

“And that’s the problem,” he said, not bothering to hide the snideness in his voice.

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