Page 43 of The Masks We Wear

He flops into his chair, not daring to look at me, and takes a small controller from his pocket. He sighs and clicks a button on it. The room instantly glows a dark crimson red. It’s a dangerous color, and my pulse responds immediately, nearly doubling its resting pace.

My eyes lock on his hands as he sets a timer on his phone, still unwilling to gaze at me. Annoyance flickers through me, and I suck on my teeth. He winces but keeps his stupid stance.

The three-minute wait is unbelievably long, and the number of emotions wracking through my mind leaves me almost panting for breath. I’m exasperated. Irritated, my heart still flutters when I see him, and he can’t even be bothered to look at me.

Yet, I’m confident. Powerful in this moment that everything he’s feeling is caused by me. Every insult, down to the small donations left at his locker. All of them, remind him of me, and sick satisfaction leads to my next conundrum.

I’m horny… as hell. My knees clench together to keep the heaviness from taking over. It’s hard to ignore the slickness between my thighs.

Finally, his damn alarm goes off, and he doesn’t wait. “Hey.”

His voice is rough and deep, like he just woke up. It shoots straight to my core, making my own voice sultry. “Hey.”

His eyebrows pinch together for a second before his face returns calm, bored, and focuses on a stray spot on the desk between us. “How was your day?”

“Boring. How was your day?” I think I’m holding my breath as I wait for his response.

“Just grand. How are you feeling?”

“Vexed. How are you feeling?”

He shifts in his seat, nearly parallel with the table, and puts one arm on it. He scraps at the corner, peeling a splinter of wood. “I’m fine. If you could do anything right now, what would you do?”

It’s clear he wants to be done with this, but unfortunately for him, I don’t. “I’d put a leash on my bitch and take him for a walk. Maybe get him a treat if he’s good. What about you, Spencer? If you could do anything right now, what would you do?”

At last his eyes snap to me, blazing with the fury I’ve longed for. “Fuck you, Lily. I can—”

“I’m sorry, Spencer.” I lean forward, both elbows on the table, a glorious grin spreading across my face. “I don’t partake in bestiality. But you know, I have heard Remy might.”

“Don’t say her fucking name, Lily. Whatever sick obsession you have with me doesn’t involve her.” His body is shaking—so much anger vibrating through him it’s almost tangible.

I ignore the pang in my chest at the way he defends her and huff. “I’ll say whatever the hell I feel like. And until I get what I want, no one is safe.”

Before I can blink, I’m against the wall with Spencer’s hand wrapped around my throat. His body is flush against mine, the heat of his breath searing a path down my neck and spreading across my collarbone. The brown is nearly gone from his eyes, leaving black orbs with bits of gold. They glimmer under the light which now surrounds his head in a red glow. The God of War has nothing on Spencer Hanes at this moment.

“Is this what youwant, Lily? A fucking reaction?” he snarls, his lips grazing the shell of my ear.

Heat swirls in the small space between us, leaving my head swimming and speech unfeasible. Instead, I nod and feel him smile against my neck. My skin burns everywhere his body is touching mine and yearning for it in the places he isn’t.

“Why?” He runs his nose along the edge of my jaw, and I gasp. He grips tighter, tilting my head away. I can breathe, but swallowing is near impossible.

“Fucking answer me.” His voice booms in my ear, jolting me upright. His arousal presses into my thigh, and my core clenches. This isn’t the sweet Spencer from my treehouse. This one is dark... mean.

“Because,” I rasp. My mind is spinning, and for some reason, I can’t lie. “I want to know I affect you.”

“That much is obvious, but I want to knowwhy.” His nose continues its assault, trailing down the length of my neck, and I arch—archinto him, molding my body against the surprising hardness of his. Everything is on fire. It’s a furious mix of anger and desire, and I... want this.

I wanthim.

Get control.

“Now,” he hisses before nipping my eardrum, his grip tightening.

“Because I…” The words die in my throat. I can’t say it. I won’t. No matter how much my body wants him, he doesn’t get to have my thoughts. I won’t make that mistake again. “Get your dirty ass paws off me, or I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Get more of your sheep to leave me gifts? Bark at me till they’re black and blue? Do you think I fucking care,Lily? Do I looklike I care?” The way he draws out my name feels like a slur. When I clench my teeth in response, he laughs. It’s low, deep in the back of his throat, and his grin is wide—like the cat that caught the canary.

No, he doesn’t get to win this time.

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