Page 17 of Wicked Surrender

So it was with great dread that I counted down the time to meet her in the library. I didn’t know her personally, and I didn’t want to, either.

The only way I wanted any member of the Chen family to be on my radar was as a target of misery, and while I worked out then relaxed before our first tutoring session, I knew that was how I’d have to play this.

“You can’t blow this off,” Dennis said at the house as we drank after dinner.

“I won’t,” I groused.

“Like, we’re depending on you.”

“I fucking know that,” I shot back. I didn’t need him to remind me that I had to show up to these tutoring things and “try” to pass my classes I’d lost interest in. The only thing I was interested in was paying back Dean Chen for what he did to William.

And now, I supposed I had another way to do that.

My brothers weren’t being farfetched when they suggested I fuck my tutor and have her do my work for me. But since this was Laura Chen, I had to make sure I could wring every bit of misery out of her, too.

That was how I came to the library later that evening.

Late.

Buzzed.

Empty-handed, without so much as a piece of paper or an assignment.

And ready to make her life hell.

I found her in the back corner where the study tables were situated for group sessions or tutoring services.

Even if I wasn’t too familiar with what she looked like compared to her student ID image online, I spotted her immediately.

No one else was back here in this corner area.

She was the only one waiting.

And as I stalked closer, I enjoyed how she noticed my approach.

Like a scared deer caught in the headlights, she tensed her shoulders and lifted her head. Instead of reading whatever she had on the table, she faced me.

Her eyes opened wide, clearly with nervousness and fear. Her long, straight black hair fell back from her pale face, showing her frown, but it was that green-eyed stare that I couldn’t look away from.

Good.

You should be scared.

Fear me, bitch.

Because you’re going to pay for what your father did.

She didn’t part her pink lips as I reached the table. No greeting fell from her lips. Almost rigid with anxiety, she watched me and gave me another second of pleasure knowing I was getting to her.

She had every right to feel like pathetic prey.

I grabbed the chair and scooted it back roughly, excited when she flinched at the abrupt movement and noise.

“Second-Best Chen,” I greeted sarcastically as I dropped into the chair.

She swallowed, and I allowed myself a little guilty pleasure at watching her slender throat flex. Even from across the table, I could see how smooth and soft her skin had to be. Staring at her neck, I fought back the instant fantasy that flashed in my mind’s eye.

Holding my hand there, not choking her but securing her in place as I fucked her hard.

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