Page 19 of College-Virgin & Dark Bully Next-Door

Maybe my teasing scarred her. Unintentional bullying; maybe that’s what I did. Her reaction is a result of that trauma, it seems. I don’t know. I’m not a shrink.

But I know I can’t take it back.

And I know Sky is pure temptation. I shouldn’t be alone with her. Not when I know she’s eighteen, legal and hotter than she has any right to be. There are too many ways to talk to her, and I can’t find the right one to get me what I want.

“I’m just an annoying tag-along, remember? The girl who doesn’t know she’s a girl.” I hate her quoting me.

“I’m … wanting to make up for that.”

“By having me spend time with you even though I hate you and not paying me for work?”

“If I could pay you, I would!” It bursts out of me before I can control it. Calming myself, I go on. “I’m in a tight spot, Sky. If I could afford it, I’d pay you in a heartbeat.”

She watches me carefully, and I can practically see her processing what I’m telling her. I’m not sure she believes me. Which means I have to prove myself. I take a slow breath, trying to calm the frustration, the borderline rage. “Look, I will leave right now, leave you alone all summer and keep my brother out of your life if there’s no way I can get you to say yes.”

Sky still doesn’t give me an answer.

“I still don’t see anything in it for me.” She’s pragmatic, more so than I remember. She used to do things because they excited her because it was an experience. I miss that girl.

“There has to be something I can help you with, right? Some way you can punish me that you’d enjoy.”

I know there’s plenty of ways I’d like to punish her sexy … whoa.Down boy. I’m in swim trunks and don’t need to let Sky know that she turns me on. Not here or now. That would undo everything, and I need this. I need her to do this because there has to be a way she’ll do it for free. I needsomeoneto support me when my family won’t, and my friends just want to drink and party.

“Beg,” she says.

I stare at her. Just stare. There’s no way that word just came out of her mouth. A wicked smile curves up her lips, and she nods. “On your knees. Beg me. And mean it.”

“Sky.”

“Are you serious about this or just talking out your ass again?”

“This is borderline blackmail,” I growl.

But when she folds her hands over her knees and keeps watching, I get down on the concrete. Fuck my pride apparently. “Please, Sky. I’m begging you to help me. I know you’re smart and have an artistic eye and so much experience with a camera. Please do me this huge favor?”

She stands. “I’ll think about it.”

“What?”

She walks all the way to the door, dripping wet. Then takes off her shirt, and I can’t breathe. She’s in that damn swimsuit again, and my world comes to a halt. This view is so much better than the one from my room. The bottom curves of her ass are on display, her delicious thighs, delicate hips, and I catch her cleavage when she turns to lay her shirt over the back of the lounge chair.

Is every inch of her really this sinful?

She has to be dating someone. Has to be. No wonder my brother is still tugging on her pigtails in a more dickish way.

“Your begging needs work. Plus, if you think begging is enough to get you off the hookandget me to do something for you, you’ve killed too many brain cells while drinking. I’ll let you know.”

I want to say something, but my mouth is cotton. She walks inside, leaving me there trying to think about puppies, World War 2, my brother, and that one professor who spit when he talked so I don’t show exactly how much she turns me on.

This was supposed to be easy.

And Sky won’t let anything be easy. Not a damn thing.

I wait a full day. Then another, then another. I take out every bit of frustration in training. The sexual frustration, how pissed I am that Sky is the new object of my lust, and the absolute fury that she’s essentially telling me no.

When I get home and through a shower, I’m ready to bang on her door and demand that she lets me in or gives me an answer. But she’s right there, watching me with that same ‘I have your ass’ grin.

She walks to me in jeans that hug her curves and a T-shirt. That backpack slung on her shoulder. “I’ll do it.”

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