Page 36 of Speak

I try to buck him off but he holds me down harder, grinning. I turn and try to catch anyone’s eye, to signal for help, somehow. I catch the eye of another football player, Landon, I think. I knew his older brother. But he tucks his chin to his chest and turns back. My hamstring burns under the weight and stretch of Chase as he grinds into me further, sneering.

“Maybe when you’re done with him, you let me get a taste of your fat little cunt. That’s what you’re doing, aren’t you? Playing him? Us? I bet you can talk. I bet they’re right. You’re faking it. Scream,Raven. Call for help.” He shoves my leg further into my chest, the stretch a dull ache before now burning. Throbbing.

I free a hand and slap him. He doesn’t even flinch but the glint in his eyes becomes blatantly murderous, terrifying and I feel my own fear and anger recoil from my body. I return one of my own, a melody forming in my mind, thoughts racing through me at the speed of light. Suddenly the only thing I can think about is seeing him above me, just like this, but bloodied. Mangled. Dead.

I manage to buck, one last time and he settles back on his haunches.

“What’s going on?” I snap my focus to Jonas’ questioning face and Riordan looks embarrassed. Whether it’s me, his brother, or the questionable position we’re in, I don’t know. I catch Chase adjusting himself discreetly but he’s not as slick as he thinks he is.

Chase pulls away and laughs like I didn’t just slap him or didn’t buck his big ass off me or that his dick isn’t hard. “Nothing, Loverboy. Helping each other stretch.” I hate the way he says that, with flirty undertones like I wanted him to touch me. He gets off me. “You’re here now, though. You should do her other leg. Really stretch those hammies out for later use.” He winks and tilts his head just a smidge while looking at his brother to indicate they should go over there. Riordan follows him to a set of machines and I get up, glaring after him.

I don’t think he realizes that out of the two of us, only one has cheated death. A shiver runs through me, that melody, so loud and clear as I stare at the back of his head, tilting back, laughing loudly at something one of his buddies says as though he didn’t just have his dick swelling against me, threatening me. I’m boiling on the inside, a plan, forming, twisting, rooting,growing.

“Raven?”

I look back at Jonas, hazel eyes clouded with confusion. One eyebrow is arched and I hate that he looks as though I’ve hurt him. He hasn’t used my name in days. It’s beenbaby. Ilike itwhen he calls me baby. I grab my phone from the floor and pull up a picture of a punching bag and show it to him.

He looks down at it, surprise replaces the confusion in his eyes and he lets out a soft laugh. “The boxing stuff is all upstairs. Is that what you’re into?” He asks, his voice a soft purr that soothesme. I like his voice. I like his face. I love the way it feels when he’s touching me.

I could really fall for someone like Jonas Anderson.

“C’mon, I’ll show you how to get up there.” He grabs my gym bag from the turf and I follow him down the hall that leads to the locker rooms and points to the open stairwell. He hands me my bag as I get on the first step to go up. “I’ll… I’m gonna start my workout. Maybe I’ll catch you when you’re done.”

My heart tumbles in my chest and before he can turn away from me, I grab his hand and tug him to me. I wrap my arms around his waist and try my hardest, to somehow apologize for being short with him yesterday and then avoiding him today with a hug. He didn’t deserve it. I know he didn’t. But I don’t know how else to make it up to him.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

I could kiss him, but I’m afraid if I start, I won’t be able to stop. I won’t knowhowto stop. Maverick is right and I hate him for being so damn receptive. I’m so fucking touch starved I’d probably let Jonas pop my cherry against the wall of the open stairwell where anyone can walk by and see us. Why is that so hot to me?

When Jonas finally wraps his strong arms around me, I put my chin on his chest between his pecs and look up at him. He smells like teakwood, patchouli, a bit of sweat but it’s all man and I hope he can see or feel what I’m trying to say.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

He groans when he looks down at me, “Raven, you can’t look at me like that.”

I quirk an eyebrow in response.

“Like you could love me…”

I could.

“It makes me want to hurt Chase, my best friends other half, for touching you. It’s unreasonable, this feeling. Like jealousy even though it’s redundant. I hate that he touched you. But you’ve just been so hot and cold, Raven,” I wish he’d stop saying my name like that. “And I don’t know how to help you. I don’t know what you want. I wish you could talk to me, but even if you did, I don’t think you understand just how much sway you have over me and I think itwould be dangerous letting you know exactly what you make me feel.”

I pull away, but only just enough to balance on my tip toes, and kiss under his jaw, right where his pulse is strong, beautiful, just like him. Suddenly, I can feel him hardening against my stomach and the warmth he makes me feel spreads down between my thighs.

“Fuck, baby…” I shiver at the way his hushed voice sends sparks fluttering through me. His hands firmly grab my hips. And there, against the wall of the gym stairwell, Jonas Anderson crashes his perfect, firm yet soft lips against mine. He tastes like mint and feels like lightning. With a growl, he licks the seam of my lips, I give him full access, our tongues touch and then his enters my mouth, dancing along the length of mine. Jonas Anderson does not kiss. Jonas Andersondevours.

He pulls away, both of us panting, chests heaving, pupils dilated, his dick throbbing against me, my pussy silently pleading for it. He touches his forehead to mine.

“Fuck.” Is all he says before diving in for my lips again, pecking, nibbling, kissing from my lips to my neck, licking tasting, teasing and back up to my lips.

It's everything I have ever wanted in a soul snatching kiss. It is all him and I want more.

“Jonas?”

“Goddammit.” He breathes against me, a noise between a whimper and a growl low in his chest emerges from him. He pulls away and we turn to see Riordan, eyeing us with a smirk on his handsome chiseled face. The one that looks like Chase’s but also doesn’t. I look at him curiously, waiting for the music to begin. Where Riordan has sun-kissed freckles along the bridge of his nose that gives him a boyish charm, Chase is void of them. Chase is void of a lot of things except hormones. When there’s no murderous symphony that plays in my mind when I look at Riordan, I let my arms around Jonas drop just a bit.

“Coach called for a uh,last-minute practicebefore tomorrow. We need to go.”

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