Page 19 of Puck Right Off

CHAPTER 10

Tristan

I’ve barely cracked open my English Literature textbook when Jordyn stomps over, a very pissed off expression on her face. I do my best to keep my expression neutral and pretend I don’t know she’s flying toward me like a bat out of hell.

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to laugh as she gets closer. Every one of my nerve endings sizzle, waiting for the confrontation.

I wait until she’s right beside me before looking up. “Oh, hey, Jordyn?—”

“Don’t you ‘hey, Jordyn’ me,” she snaps, her chest heaving from frustration and anger. “Do you have any idea what you did back there?”

I feign innocence, raising my brows with a bewildered expression. “Said hi to you and met Felicity.” I shrug. “What’s the big deal?—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she hisses. “You let Felicity believe you were my boyfriend.” Her eyes dart around nervously, although we are alone.

“Oh, that.” I wave a hand dismissively. “No big deal?—”

“No big deal,” she screeches, her eyes so wide I can see the whites the whole way around them. “It’s a very big deal. What if she tells Josh?”

I level her with a look. “Does she hang around Josh? Because he sure as hell doesn’t set foot in the library unless he has to, let alone come to the Learning Center.”

Jordyn huffs, her anger dimming slightly. “That’s not the point.”

Pushing my chair back, I stand, towering over her. She trembles before she takes a step back, then another. Heat flares in her wide eyes, her breath hitching when her ass hits the edge of the table behind her.

With two steps, I’m pressed against her. I place one palm on either side of the table behind her, the wood cool against my sweaty hands. My body overheats being this close to her. “I like it when you get worked up, kitten.”

“I-I’m not worked up. And my name isn’t kitten.”

I lift a hand to her face, inhaling her fear mixed with the sexual tension that hangs in the air between us. “Yes, you are. And it’s a cute-as-hell nickname for you.” Our lips are inches from one another.

When her gaze drops to mine, her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

“Tristan. We shouldn’t.” Her voice is breathless as her hands flatten against my chest. I wait for her to push me away, but she fists my shirt instead.

“Are you sure about that, kitten?” I glance down at her hands on my chest before my gaze lifts to hers.

She trembles against me, heat blazing in her aqua irises, unsure what to do. I wait her out, looking for a sign to proceed, hoping she hurries the hell up before I die. I’m exercising so much restraint right now that sweat trickles down my back from my efforts.

“Fuck it,” she says before her lips slamagainst mine.

Holy hell. She’s kissing me.

Jordyn Reese is fucking kissing me.

I’m stunned, my brain a few seconds behind, trying to process what is happening. What I’ve been dreaming about all weekend is happening, only instead of me kissing her, she’s taking the lead.

My body comes to life beneath her mouth. My blood rushes through my veins like a raging river as my heart rate rapidly increases, the tempo beating in my ear like the pounding of drums at a concert. My arms wrap around her, one around her lower back while the other fists in her silky blonde hair.

She moans against my lips, and my cock twitches in response. I’m so hard inside my jeans it’s painful, but I’ll endure it to feel her lips against mine. Hell, I would walk barefoot over hot coals to feel her in my arms like this.

Jordyn’s hands slide up my chest and to the back of my neck. She lifts onto her tiptoes, pressing herself flush against me as she continues kissing me with a desperate hunger that suggests I wasn’t the only one craving this.

My hand slides to her ass, squeezing it with a growl. Her skirt is too short and?—

I forget what I was thinking when she grinds against me. “Tristan,” she murmurs against my mouth.

Keeping my lips against hers, I whisper, “Yeah, kitten?”

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