Page 50 of Not A Whisper

Every muscle in my body locks up in surprise. “Trip?”

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, trying to call things off, but I’m here to remind you that you’reourdoll and that toys don’t get to call the shots.”

Each word spoken vibrates with fury, making his voice come out as a growl. The fingers around my neck tighten further as he continues to drag me out of sight. When we get to the end of the aisle, he shoves my chest up against the wall.

“Get off me!” I try to peel his hand off my throat. The struggle earns me a sharp smack across my ass.

I bite back a yelp of surprise. “You can’t touch me like this anymore, Trip! You shouldn’t have been doing iteverbut?—”

Another smack, this time even harder. Even through my clothes he manages to make it sting a little.

“Toysdon’t make the rules.”

“Your rules are arbitrary and change all the time. It doesn’t matter anyway since I’m not doing this anymore. I’m through!” I hiss, keeping my voice low.

Though there’s a lull in the number of students, there is still a decent amount not all that far away. Having them punish or play with me on the third floor is one thing. But to do this here on the second floor where all the activity takes place?

This is dangerous. Too dangerous.

“Get off me! You’re going to get me fired, Trip.”

“You should’ve thought of that before pissing me the fuck off.” His chest presses hard against my back. The motion shoves me forward so that I’m pressed tighter up against the wall. “You don’t get to end this, and you certainly don’t get to cut off communication, dollface. It was a stupid move. Embarrassingly so.”

I clench my teeth but manage to spit out, “You’re an asshole.”

“And you love every fucking second of it. What’s the problem here?” Trip’s laughter is almost terrifying in how cold it is.

To my horror, tears decide to spring up at that very moment. The pieces of my heart that I hadn’t let break duringmy shift, start to crack into smaller pieces. No! I don’t want to cry. Not in front of him. Not where he can see all my pain and make fun of me for it. Were they playing the long game? Maybe this was part of the plan all along—to see how much they can hurt me. Well, if that is the case, they won.

And what’s worse?

Even as my heart crumbles, my body warms at Trip’s proximity. Clearly, there is some miscommunication between my head, heart, and the rest of my body.

Trip’s other hand comes around to rest on my stomach. His nose skims down my neck before he follows that same trail up with his tongue. There’s no stopping the shiver that rushes through me. I squeeze my eyes shut, hating him more in this moment than I ever have before.

“Let go of me, Trip. I’ll make a scene.”

“No you won’t.” His hand slides down my stomach slowly. As it dives under the waistband of my pants he adds, “You love it here too much to risk being caught in such a compromising situation.”

His fingers slide under the simple string of my thong and slide between my legs. I squeeze my eyes shut in horror at his dark chuckle.

“Judging by how wet you are, I’m almost willing to believe you sent that text just to get this reaction out of me,” he growls in my ear. His fingers slide through my folds lazily. I choke on a moan.

I shake my head, trying to breathe through the desire.

“I hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

Trip’s fingers tighten once more around my neck. My pussy clenches around nothing as his fingers tease me. When his wet digits circle my clit, I choke loudly on my unwanted groan.

“And how did I inspire this hatred?” he asks me, his tonechanging to one that’s nearly conversational. “Tell me, what brought all this on?”

“Iknowwhat you’ve been keeping from me,” I hiss. “Garry told me.”

Trip’s whole body stiffens, his fingers coming to a halt. His stillness gives me the strength to fight him off. I brace my hands against the wall and push myself away. As I use the momentum to escape being sandwiched, I kick backward, my heel landing against Trip’s shin. He grunts as he stumbles back, his hands retreating from my body.

Whirling around, I get ready to give him a piece of my mind only to find Jason standing a few feet behind us with his arms crossed over his chest. His normal smile has been replaced by the tight press of his mouth and a furrowed brow.

Shit, it’s now two against one. How is this fair?

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