Page 68 of Rockwell Academy: The Twist

“Hey, angel.”

“Don’t you angel me.”

I glare at him with derision. “Go and find your new toy to play with. I’m no longer interested.”

My words only appear to amuse him and he tightens his hold before leaning down and whispering, “I never played with toys. I prefer the real thing.”

“Asshole.”

He pulls me closer and bending down, licks my neck, causing me to shiver inside.

“What are you doing?”

I don’t miss the curious stares of a bunch of students nearby, but he obviously couldn’t give a damn that we are putting on a show for them.

“You taste so good, angel. I can’t wait to eat you whole.”

Oh, fuck.

My legs tremble but my voice is steady as I hiss, “Let me go, you deranged bastard.”

“Have you put your name on the list?”

“No.” I snap, hating how my legs turned to jelly after one interaction with him.

“What are you waiting for?”

“For somebody interesting to add their name to the list—obviously.”

My tone drips sarcasm as he jerks me closer and in full view of the cafeteria, he fastens his lips to mine and reminds me there really is only one contender – in my game anyway.

If I was shocked that he kissed me in public, I’m even more shocked that he doesn’t let up for what appears to be several minutes. Is he making a statement? I’m guessing we will be beaming through campus on everyone’s WhatsApp groups as the star attraction right now. Frankie will see this—they willallsee this.

Does Luca have a death wish? – apparently so.

It’s an interesting way to commit suicide and I kind of love his balls, so I take full advantage of the situation and kiss him back, running my fingers through his hair, demonstrating to anyone watching that I am in charge of this—not him.

Silence falls around us and as I kiss Luca Romano, I am reminded why God gave me a beating heart. It comes to life when he kisses me and I can only imagine what happens to it when he takes this further.

It will probably stop beating if Frankie discovers what’s going on.

After a decade, he pulls away and, reaching up, runs his fingers through my hair, gazing at me with his usual intensity that never fails to turn me on.

“Sign up.”

“I’ll think about it.”

I push him away. “Isn’t there somewhere else you should be right now?”

My acid tongue drips venom because I hated how he blanked me back in art.

“No.” He shrugs, tugging me toward an empty table and pulling me down beside him.

“What are you doing?” I hiss, realizing we are making a spectacle of ourselves and expecting Frankie and his army to rush in on full charge any second.

“I want a word.”

He stares deep into my eyes and I swallow hard.

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