Page 52 of Wicked Surrender

“You were right,” I repeated, anxious about how furious he seemed. “I’m not the kind of girl who parties. You were right when you pointed out that I don’t know how to have fun.” He slammed the door shut behind me, giving us privacy.

“I’m not having fun,” I stressed.

Shit. Wait.

He could take that as an insult, and with that volatile look in his eyes, like he wanted to roar and explode, I didn’t think it was smart to mock his party. I knew he took pride in being the legendary host on campus. If I ever made a comment about a dinner party not being fun, my mother would gasp. Stupidly, I was reminded of my grandma insisting that I take more of my mother’s Brussels sprouts even when I disliked them.

“I mean, not that this party isn’t fun. It should be. For other people. It looked like lots of people were having fun down there and?—”

“Shut up,” he warned, shaking his head again, then glaring at me.

I should’ve stopped, but I was on a roll. The adrenaline rush of being here tripped me into not knowing how to shut up.

“I’m not insulting you or putting down your party or?—”

“Shut up!”

I turned, letting my anxiety fuel me to the fight-or-flight instinct. As soon as I reached the doorknob to get out of here, he was there.

His big hand pressed flat on the wood until he slammed it shut again. In the same beat, he put his hand on my hip and spun me.

I let out a rough exhale. It was punched out of me as he shoved me back against the closed door.

Trapped there, with him breathing hard and staring at me so intensely, he kept me right where he wanted me. Gazing into the turbulent and stormy brown depths of his eyes, I swallowed hard and panted from this rush.

His hand stayed flat on the door and he lifted the other one to cage me in.

Oh, fuck.

I’d never been locked in place like this. Never forced to look at someone so dangerous and furious like him this close.

Now that he had me here like this, I warred with the dueling urges to stay here forever or flee.

“Jason, just…” I shook my head, willing my heart to slow down. It beat so fast he had to hear it. “Just forget about it. All of this. Okay? Please?” I licked my lip and furrowed my brow, wishing I could sound confident and smart like I had that one night when I called him pathetic.

As his gaze dropped to my lips, his nostrils flared and he stepped closer, further pinning me against the door. Heat flooded through me, and I refrained from a whimper.

“It was stupid for me to come here. It’s stupid of me to care about that beauty contest. And it’s not like they’re wrong.”

“Laura—”

“I know I’m not winning any contests. I’m not trying to win any contests, not for anything. Not for beauty or?—”

He growled, closing the slim distance between us to crash his scowling lips over mine.

The impact of his mouth colliding over mine burned through my veins. With a clarity that lasted just one second, I tried to accept that he was kissing me.

That this was happening.

This instant spike of desire and longing wasn’t part of another dream I didn’t want.

This was reality. He had his demanding lips crushing mine with so much hunger as he silenced me that I swore my brain short-circuited.

My nipples hardened. My pussy ached. Deep inside me, an immediate spell of lust took charge.

After the initial gasp of his shutting me up with a kiss, I arched up to accept his dominance. Parting my lips and kissing him back, I reveled in the heady sensation of his owning me like this.

A growl ripped from him as he tilted his head to kiss me deeper. I whimpered then, a sound of need, not fear, as I welcomed his velvety tongue into my mouth.

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