Page 85 of The Sweetest Revenge

"Yeah," Mila said. "Let's all meet at the library."

Mila led the way out with Journey following her.

My gaze shifted to Zaiden, still standing in my room, and my smile faded. I knew he had something to do with that email from the Dean, but that didn't change the fact that it all happened because of him.

"So, does that mean you're staying?" Zaiden asked, his eyes dropping to my empty luggage and then back to me.

I pushed off the bed and took a step toward him. "This was all your fault." I shoved my finger into his chest. "If it wasn't for you," I shoved it harder, "I wouldn't have been kicked off the team to begin with?—"

"But." His lips curved into a grin as he caught my wrist, squeezing tightly.

"But—" The words caught in my throat as he pressed his body against mine, trapping me between him and the wall. "Thank you. For whatever you did to fix it."

His hands found my hips, his touch deceptively gentle at first before his fingers dug in, just enough to make me wince.

"So you forgive me?" The question floated between us, soft as a caress but sharp with danger underneath.

I met his gaze. "No." I twisted away, shoving his hands off with force. "You're still the reason all this happened."

One step toward the door. Two.

The air shifted behind me, the only warning before his hand shot out, catching my throat and spinning me around. My back slammed against the wall, the impact forcing the air from my lungs in a quiet gasp.

I blinked, suddenly aware of how close he was, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, and the smell of the mint on his breath.

"That's okay." His thumb traced an agonizingly slow path along my jawline, the unexpected gentleness making my skin tingle in contrast to the unyielding grip at my throat. "I like it better when you hate me."

The pressure at my neck increased by fractions, just enough to make my pulse leap beneath his fingertips.

I refused to look away, to surrender even the smallest victory in this twisted game between us. "You make it so easy," I gritted out.

Something darkened in his eyes then, a shadow passing over deep water. His lips curved into that smile I hated, the one that said he knew exactly what effect he had.

"You don't really hate me," he breathed, so close now that the heat of his breath brushed against my lips. "You want to hate me—" His free hand skimmed up my side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "But you don't."

My lip curled into a defiant snarl, but the betrayal came from within—heat flooding my body, pooling low in my belly and between my thighs.

His gaze shifted momentarily toward my bed before returning to me, now lit with cruel intentions. "You want me." Each word fell like stones dropping into still water. "You want me to fuck you."

The worst part wasn't that he was wrong.

The worst part was that he was right.

His fingers squeezed, and I felt the contact everywhere. "You want me to make you come."

I was about to argue, to tell him to fuck off, but I was spun around so fast I hadn't fully processed what was happening when he pressed his hips into my ass, pinning me against the wall. His hand tunneled into my hair, ripping my head back and to the side, giving him better access to my neck.

A deep groan rumbled through his chest, vibrating against my skin as his teeth scraped the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. My body betrayed me instantly—back arching, pressing harder into the rigid length of him. The rational part of my brain screamed to push him away, to hold onto my anger, but it was drowning in a flood of want.

"I hate you," I whispered, the words lacking any real conviction.

His only response was a dark laugh against my throat, his hands tightening on my hips.

The world tilted as he spun me away from the wall. One moment, I was standing; the next, I was bent forward, the mattress edge catching me at the waist. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, blood rushing hot beneath my skin as his fingers hooked into the waistband of my leggings. The soft fabric slid down my thighs, taking my underwear with it in one smooth motion.

Cool air kissed my exposed skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. I heard the soft thud of cloth hitting the floor, followed by the sound of him stepping between my feet.

"Spread your legs." His voice had dropped an octave, rough with desire but deadly calm.

---