Page 14 of The Catalyst

“Nigel?” What is he doing here? “How the hell did you find out where I live?” I ask, exasperated.

He grins and pulls himself up into the second-story window, somehow landing on his feet like it took him no effort at all.

“Ro let it slip that you live next door to Judy,” he mutters as I stand up from my bed.

Please don’t tell me this asshole is seriously stalking me now?

“So, you just thought you’d climb through my window? What is stopping me from pushing you back out? You’d fall to your death.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him, but he just closes the window with that debonair smile, his pearly whites gleaming.

“Probably the broken glass and maybe this.” Wrapping his hand around the back of my neck, Nigel drags me to him and slams his lips down on mine. I jump at the pressure on my injured flesh. My hand shoots up to my cheek before I can stop the knee-jerk reaction and his eyes follow the path of my hand.

“I have a bad tooth,” I lie, but he grabs my hand and pulls it down from my face, staring at the reddened skin. The skin will be clear by morning, but it’s still too soon after the attack. He can see the handprint and he’s glimpsing behind the veil everyone sees.

“Who did this to you?” he growls, protectiveness glowing in those icy blue depths as his fingers move to my neck, holding me in his aura.

“Like I said, it’s a toothache,” I reiterate the same lie, but his stern gaze tells me he isn’t buying it.

“A toothache doesn’t leave a bruise, butterfly. A fist does. You have a handprint on your cheek.”

My jaw clenches, knowing I can’t bullshit my way out of this. Why did he have to come through my window tonight? Any other night and he wouldn’t see this. I never wanted anyone to see how shitty my home life really is. “Who did this?” he pushes again.

“Why? It’s not like you could do anything. Your fists are a deadly weapon, remember?” The sass flows from me without my permission, but it's just a defense mechanism.

“Don’t mess with me. I have other ways of hurting someone that doesn’t require my fists. So tell me. Is it your dad or maybe your brother that I’ll be hurting?” he asks, holding my gaze with no uncertainty present. Of course he thinks it would be a man who hit me. No one ever jumps to the conclusion that a woman could be abusive.

“It’d be kind of hard to do either since my dad is dead and my brother died in my mother’s womb.” That’s the closest thing he’s getting to an answer. He’s not getting any closer than that.

“Your mom did this to you?”

I glare at him. How dare he be so damn clever. “I didn’t say that. Like I said before, it’s a toothache. Swelling can look like a bruise. You’re making something out of nothing.”

“Am I? You said the same thing earlier, but I bet if I took off your panties, they’d be drenched.”

My body instantaneously shudders in response, a fresh pool of arousal flooding my underwear, and I curse myself for reacting to his dirty words.

“No, not at all. You’re delusional.”

His hand wraps around my throat and holds me in his personal bubble, only tightening to accentuate his point.

“Take off your pants,” he demands.

My eyes widen in shock. “Excuse me?”

“I said, take off your pants. I’m going to prove my point. You’re full of shit, butterfly. Drop them and stop denying what both of us already know. You want me just as badly as I want you.” His icy blues darken to a sapphire color with desire as he strokes my ass roughly through my jogging pants.

Honestly, if I wanted to, I could probably kick him in the balls and run out of here, but my mom would hear, and I don’t want Nigel going to jail for breaking and entering.

The sad part is he’s right. I want him, but he’s wrong for thinking it’s more than sex.

“Drop. Them.” He hisses in my face, but when I still don’t move, knowing I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, he grabs the waist of my jogging pants and forces them down with my destroyed panties.

I squeak out my rejection, but his hand cups my bare pussy, and I mewl from his touch. His thumb brushes my clit as my essence soaks his hand, and he groans, his eyes full of unbridled need.

“I knew you were wet, but I didn’t think you were this wet. I could use this to take your ass and wouldn’t need a drop of lube.”

Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, Nigel pushes me back onto the bed, and all I can do is stare at him as he unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops in a hurry. I have no idea what he has planned, but I know I’m going to love every second of it.

CHAPTER 7

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