Page 44 of Bleed for Me

Her nostrils flared in response, but she seemed to know better than to pick a fight with him. She shot me one last scathing glare, before turning on her heels and marching out of the cafeteria, leaving her food, and friends behind.

I sank back in my seat, confusion tumbling through my body as I sifted through all the different possibilities. Jordan wouldn’t tell me shit, that much was clear. At least, not until he was ready to on his own terms.

Maybe I could get her to talk, though. Unless part of their agreement was non-disclosure.

Returning to my food, the cheese suddenly tasted bland. I knew that had everything to do with what had just happened and nothing to do with the food itself.

After lunch, I made my way into the girl’s bathroom, knowing that’s exactly where she’d be unless she took a five-minute shower. As expected, the sound of the water filled the room, pushing out steam that wafted through the vicinity and fogged the mirrors adjacent. There were curtains, but they did little to hide the bodies of the people behind them. My gaze snapped to her silhouette, the curve of her hips capturing my attention. I couldn’t see everything, but the shadow of her figure was enough. She tilted her head back, her long hair falling against her lower back. With the new position, her back arched as she worked her hands through her hair and her chest became more prominent. I could see the curve of her breasts, even the shadow of her nipples.

Fuck.

My dick twitched beneath the constraints of my jeans, begging me for a better glimpse of the woman within the shower. I’d initially followed her in here to speak with her, but my eyes were glued to what I could see of her body. Even from where I stood, propping my hip against the wall out of sight, she was visible to me.

My gaze drifted to her clothes that were strewn out on the bench and my lips curled as an idea struck me. Striding forward, I gathered her clothes and her towel in my arms, taking them to the opposite side of the bathroom. I placed them on the counter near where the toilet stalls sat and hurried back to resume my place against the wall. I watched as her hand slipped between her thighs, cleansing herself. She had no idea she was being watched, and that just made this hotter.

After a few moments, she turned the water off and stepped out, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion when she realized her towel wasn’t where she’d put it.

My breath rushed out of me at the sight of her. Her breasts were a decent size, a low D-cup if I had to guess. Her ass was bigger than I’d imagined, the skirts she wore doing it no justice. I grabbed my cock, adjusting it as it stretched painfully against my boxers.

Rosalie’s eyes fell to the vacant bench and her back straightened. I didn’t bother hiding when she started glancing around the room, her blue irises widening when they landed on me. A smirk tugged at my lips, a flush running up her body and she hurriedly snaked her arms over her chest, hiding them from view.

“W-where are my clothes?” she stammered.

I pushed off the wall and slowly made my way toward her. Even from here, I could hear the shake of her voice as she stumbled back, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.

My voice was rawer than expected when I replied, the unmistakable desire lacing through my tone. “Don’t run from me, Rosalie.” She froze, recognizing the need in my words. Her face was flushed pink from the shower and nervousness; it traveled over the top of her breasts, drawing my gaze to them.

When I reached her, I gripped her arms in my hands, tugging them away from her body and placing them at her sides. Her breath hitched audibly, her wide eyes searching mine.

“Has your boyfriend ever seen you naked?” I asked. It was doubtful that he had, because if he saw what I did, there would be no way for him to turn this down, not unless he simply wasn’t attracted to women.

“No,” she whispered.

Stepping into the heat of her body, I brushed her damp hair away from her shoulders. “Fuck.” I breathed heavily. “His loss.” I meant that with every fiber of my being. Because what her boyfriend didn’t know—whatshedidn’t know—was that she was no longer his. From the moment I laid eyes on her, she’d become mine. I’d do whatever was necessary to prove that to her, and to make sure he got the message as well. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Rosalie. I don’t think you realize how much.”

Her voice shook as she spoke, her eyes darting behind me like she expected someone to come in at any moment, but no one would. Even if they did, I wouldn’t move. “What are you doing in here?” My eyes darted to her chest, and I ran my hand along the outside of her arm, moving it upwards until I reached the side of her breast. Her breathing grew heavier when I took that same hand and brushed my thumb over her nipple. She went rigid, but her nipple hardened regardless, giving away her desire. “Don’t,” she begged in a breathy plea. “Y-you can’t.”

“Because of him?” I asked, referring to her boyfriend that wasn’t even man enough to stand up for her yesterday. I mean,hetried, but he ended up walking out, leaving her to me and Seven. Worthless bastard.

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to. I knew that was exactly the reason. If he wasn’t in the picture, she’d probably let me touch her. That thought scared her more than anything and she wasn’t willing to admit it.

Instead of accepting her request for me to stop, I cupped her breast instead, enjoying the way it overflowed in the palm of my hand. Her hands snapped out, gripping my biceps, but she didn’t push. She just squeezed.

“Archer, please,” she begged.

Fuck. I needed her so badly it hurt, and I could see the warring emotions written in her expression. She needed me, too, even if she wouldn’t admit it. I came in here for answers, but I got swept away in the sight of her. I was a fucking goner now.

“Tell me to go away,” I muttered, wincing as the words fled my lips.

Her breath hitched as I tightened my grip around her breast, my thumb grazing her nipple as it had done before. “What?” she asked in confusion, swept up in the mere feeling of my hands on her body.

“Tell me to go away. Actually fuckingmeanit. I’ll stop everything right this instant. I’ll leave you alone. Tell me that you don’t want this at all.” I wouldn’t force this on her if she genuinely didn’t want it. That wasn’t who I was. I wanted her to want me back, and if she didn’t, then so be it.

Her lips parted, and for a moment, I thought she might actually do it. The conflict was written all over her face. She was torn between what she felt and what was right. We weren’t right. I knew that and didn’t care. She had a boyfriend, she was innocent, she waskind. She was everything that I wasn’t—that I’d never be.

“Y-you can’t touch me like this,” she said at last.

“Wrong fucking answer.”

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