Page 64 of Corrupt Me

Something in the way he looked at me had my breath quickening. “I don’t need a lesson or a teacher for that matter,” I added.

Leaning closer, his gaze remained focused on me—only me like nothing else in the world mattered. “Good, because I’m the last person you should look up to. My motives are purely selfish.”

“Bullshit,” I whispered. “And so what if you’re not always the good guy? Sometimes you need to be bad to protect those you love.” I inched a bit closer to him, my eyes drawn to his lips.

His jaw tightened. “What are you doing?”

Chewing on my bottom lip, I realized how much I wanted to touch him. “No longer being afraid.” His presence banished the last remnants of the dream.

“Ever,” he warned, and I thought he might roll away from me, putting space I didn’t want between us.

“Yes, Tristan?” I whispered before lifting my gaze to his.

He read my expression and sensed where I was going, what I wasn’t saying but trying to convey. “This isn’t what I meant. I’m trouble. Haven’t you been hurt enough?”

His words were meant to jar me back to reality, to put that wall of anger, hate, and bitterness between us he was so good at making me erect. He did it on purpose, I realized, to keep me away.

Tristan knew my fears.

But what washeso afraid of?

Me?

Of what could be between us?

Of all nights, I shouldn’t be considering testing the waters with him when my emotions were so messy, but he was the only thing I was sure of.

His jerky attitude.

His standoffishness.

His streak of cruelty.

I never asked why Tristan hadn’t immediately backed out of my driveway that night and gone home, but the question lingered in my mind for nearly a year. Why had he stayed? I was grateful he had because I didn’t know how I would have gotten through that night without him.

Was it ironic he was here again when I needed him? It was always him. And I might hate myself in the morning. I might regret my decision. I might be riddled with guilt. Sam might be disappointed in me. Hell, I could be disappointed in myself.

Or I could be proud for acting on something I wanted. For being brave and daring.

I could say fuck it and deal with the consequences tomorrow.

It was what Tristan would do.

If I acted on pure emotion…if I let it drive my actions, would it change my relationship with Tristan? My relationship with Preston was already fucked.

What did I have to lose?

Tension stretched between us, the intense, impure kind. I lifted off the bed, bringing our faces close. My cheeks were warm. My heart hammered against my ribs. Fear and excitement hummed in my blood. “You could never hurt me,” I murmured and threw caution to the wind, covering his lips with mine.

twenty

Iheard his sharp inhale right before our lips touched. His body went rigid for a breath or two, and all I could think was had I made a mistake? Would he push me away? I’d only been selfishly thinking about me, what I wanted, what I needed.

What if Tristan didn’t want me?

But then his hand shoved into my hair, cupping the back of my head as he crushed his lips against mine. My heart lurched in my chest at the pressure of his mouth. “Ever,” he groaned into the kiss.

The gravelly texture of my name flooded my veins with a surge of warmth and something stronger. Much stronger. Lust like I’d never experienced. Not from a kiss. Not from anything.

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