Page 22 of Wicked Surrender

If he wanted to challenge every single thing just for the sake of starting an argument, whatever.

I didn’t take it personally when he tried to insinuate that I didn’t know how to teach something.

And I let it in one ear and out the other when he looked at me like I was filth.

My dad expected me to deal with this jerk, and I would. I wouldn’t let Jason Reeves’ lack of manners be the reason my dad would force me to drop out of the classes I enjoyed and looked forward to.

You’ll give up.

You’ll quit.

I wanted to scream those sentiments at Jason when he pushed me.

I didn’t, because I knew that he wouldn’t break me. He wouldn’t win at this inane antagonism he was so bound and determined to establish between us.

“Are you done yet?” he said after I spent fifteen minutes explaining a problem’s solution to him.

“With you?” I shot back.

He chuckled, the sound so low and raspy that it was almost seductive.

“With me?” He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’d never be good enough to bewithme, Second-Best.”

I pulled my lower lip into my mouth and traced my tongue along it, fighting the urge to scream.

“I’m not trying to be with you.”

“Why? Too good and pure to even think about fucking a man?”

I blinked once and shook my head. “How did we go from discussing the law of cosines?—”

“We weren’t discussing shit. You were lecturing me like a boring know-it-all.”

“—to talking about…” I furrowed my brow and shut up.

He grinned like the devil he was. “Sex.Sex, Second-Best. You’re such a fucking prude that you can’t even say the word.”

This wasn’t worth arguing about, but I didn’t like how instantly I wanted to correct him. I wasn’t a prude. I just wanted to concentrate on my future before wasting so much energy on romance.

“Say it.” He leaned in more, tempting me to want to meet him in the middle over the table so I could get a deeper inhale of that spicy cologne he wore. That and the underlying scent of soap. It wasn’t fair that he could lookandsmell good. “I dare you. Say it.”

I sighed, not in the mood for his games. “So, again,” I said, pointing my pencil tip to what I last wrote in my notebook, “if you are trying to solve for the variable of?—”

“I want to solve the mystery of whether you’re as pathetic as you look.” He took hold of my pencil and snapped it in half with one hand. “Say it.”

I grabbed another pencil, determined not to show him how much he was bothering me. “For the variable of?—”

He grabbed that pencil and snapped it as well. Then he shoved the notebook clear across the table until it slipped over the edge and dropped to the floor.

“Say it, Laura,” he growled, smiling mischievously.

That was the first time he’d called me by my name, not that damn nickname that would never die on campus.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I enjoy seeing you squirm. It’s too much fucking fun seeing you blush and get so scared.”

You’re a sadist.

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