Page 52 of The Pawn

I go cold all over. For a moment I'm sure he's looking straight into my soul. It's like he knows what I want, what I've done—and what I hope to do to him and his friends.

Blake goes on, "Play whatever games you want with Cole and Blake. I've got too important a future to roll around in the mud with you." Leaning in close, so close I can feel the heat of his body, he adds, "Good luck getting Tanner to give a shit about something other than where his next blowjob is coming from. Georgia Johnson found him about as easy to hold onto as holding water in a sieve. You'll find the same."

He disappears into the crowd before I can come up with a retort. Clearly Cole and Tanner have been talking to him; I expected as much. I just didn't think he would talk tome.Of all the Elites, he's seemed least interested in Cole's games, even in passing.

His eyes stay with me long after he's gone, though. It's hard to shake off the feeling of him looking so intently at me. I don't really manage to forget it until I spot Tanner across the crowd, coming towards me.

He's wearing casual clothes: nice sneakers, faded jeans, and a leather jacket I haven't seen before on top of one of the blue and gold Coleridge T-shirts. There's a smirk on his face, his short black hair newly faded at the edges.

He doesn't look like he's just gotten out of some seedy encounter in the restroom. Blake was probably lying about that, I decide. It was some ploy to get to me and make me feel bad.

But when Tanner looks me up and down, a wolfish grin on his face, I feel like a thousand bucks—which is about what this hair, makeup, and outfit cost.

"That's a nice skirt," he says, moving in close. His fingers skim the bottom hem of the white cotton flared skirt I'm wearing. "I like the neckline on that top, too."

I reach up to play with the V of my blouse, warmth spreading across my cheeks. "I thought for a second there that you weren't gonna make it."

"And miss out on my hot date? Nah." The flash of his white teeth against his tanned warm skin is almost as electrifying as the feeling of his fingers trailing across my collarbones, warm and intimate without hesitation. "The real party doesn't start until the sun sets. You'll see. It's not about the ice cream."

"So I've heard." Staring in his eyes, I dare to ask, "What game are we playing tonight, Tanner? One of Cole's little games, or one of yours?"

"Didn't I tell you?" He moves his finger down my arm, to the inside of my elbow, then slips his hand onto my waist, palm warm and gently curved. "We're playingmygame. The naughty kind. We're going to commit some sins worthy of being haunted by that ghost in Hayes Chapel."

I can feel my pulse in my throat, the flex of his fingers on my waist as he draws me close. The crowd around us disappears.

If this is a trick, I'm going in willingly, eyes open. Because even if he's playing me—even if he intends to steal my heart—he'll never get it anyway.

And I know that the work I've done to get his attention has paid off. I can feel it as he slips close enough that his arousal becomes clear against my thigh. Tanner can fake a lot of things, but not how much he wants me.

Being wanted changes everything for me. I feel the girl inside me rise to the top, the one I've wanted to be for a long, long time. The girl who boldly takes what she wants.

"What kind of sins are on the menu tonight?" I ask him.

"All of them," he answers, pressing his mouth to the cusp of my ear, his breath sending electric tingles through me. "I'll give you whatever you want. Pick your poison, Brenna Wilder."

Chapter 27

Ashudder of revulsion and horror goes through me, even as my body responds to Tanner's hand dipping beneath the hem of my shirt to touch my bare skin. His warm mouth moves from my ear to my cheek, lips against me, his other hand cupping my neck as if to keep me still.

"Cole told you."

"He said he had to warn me." He draws back enough to look down into my eyes. "Apparently I'm not supposed to trust you."

"What are you going to do about it?"

I swallow as his fingers find my pulse and press against my skin, as if he wants to feel every frightened beating of my heart. He's still aroused; I can see that clearly. And I wonder if it's part of the game.

"What am I supposed to do?" He cocks his head, shrugs at me. "Your brother is gone, just like we wanted. So what if you came here? Maybe you wanted to be nowhere near him. I wouldn't blame you for that."

My fingers curl up towards my palms, nails digging into my skin. I feel the snake bite scar pulse with an echo of pain.

He's dead, you bastard. He's dead, and I'll make you pay.

I push the anger down even as it demands retribution. Tanner is watching my face curiously, as if he wants to know everything about me—every secret and every sin. I hold in the fire of my anger, trying to remember the plan even as my thoughts slip away from me wildly, refusing to be held down or ordered into a straight line.

There are too many secrets inside me wanting to bubble out. If I stand here one more moment next to Tanner, out in the field as the sunset turns into dusk, I'll open my mouth and let more than just my anger out. I'll let the secrets out, too, and ruin everything I planned.

So I grab his hand, pull him towards me, and tell him, "Let's get out of here. I'm done with my ice cream, and I want to find out where the party is really at."

---