Page 15 of Price of Victory
“I wouldn’t touch you if my life depended on it,” I bit out, trying to ignore the way my body was betraying me.
Aiden’s expression shifted, something cold and hurt flashing across his features before he covered it with that practiced indifference. “Then what’s the fucking point of you?”
“I was just offering friendly advice,” I said, gesturing toward his laptop. “About the strict submission deadlines with this professor.”
“Friendly advice.” Aiden’s voice was flat, dangerous. “Right. Because that’s exactly what I need right now. More friendly fucking advice.”
I crossed my arms, suddenly defensive. “What’s your deal?”
That’s when something inside him snapped.
“My deal?” he said, his voice rising just enough to echo in the quiet library. “My deal is that I’m sick of people feeding me friendly advice about the way things have to be done. All I want is one fucking hour where I’m not being led somewhere on a tight leash. Or, since you’re so insistent on it, guilted for shit I haven’t done.”
“Your family nearly ruined mine,” I said, because it was the truth and because I was tired of pretending it didn’t matter.
“I don’t care.” The words came out like a slap, and I could see the exact moment when Aiden realized he’d said too much. But instead of backing down, he doubled down, letting everything pour out in a torrent of anger and frustration. “My father is a megalomaniac who never has enough. Never enough money, never enough power, never enough control over every aspect of my life. So if you think I’m going to worry about your little startup, you’re barking up the wrong fucking tree, buddy. I can’t get him off my ass about hockey. Do you think I can make him apologize to your daddy? And for what? Because his feelings are hurt? Grow up, Morrison. I’ve got bigger problems than your selfish ass can imagine. Collapsing in the middle of a meeting and nearly taking a hike couldn’t slow down my father’s crusade of achieving everything he wants, including dictating my every breath, blink, and hiccup.”
The words hung in the air between us, and I felt my heart thunder in my chest. “Collapsing?”
The color drained from Aiden’s face as he realized what he’d just revealed. In an instant, he was on his feet andmoving toward me, his expression shifting from vulnerability to something dangerous and predatory.
He slammed into me like a cat about to kill, pressing my back hard against the bookshelf behind me with enough force to make several books tumble to the floor. His hands were braced on either side of my head, caging me in, and his face was inches from mine.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled, his voice low and sinister. A lock of dark hair had fallen over his eye, and in the dim reading light from the nearby desks, he looked achingly beautiful and completely terrifying. “I’ve let you off the hook because of your naughty doe eyes and that cute butt, but don’t think for a second I won’t shred you into pieces if you repeat what you just heard. I’ll rip your heart out, do you hear me?”
I could see the fear in his eyes, the desperation poorly disguised as aggression. And for a moment, I felt something that might have been compassion. But then the threat registered, and I shoved him back, hard.
“How come none of the shareholders know about this?” I asked, the words spilling out before I could stop them. I knew it was wrong to say it, knew I was hitting him where it hurt most, but I couldn’t help myself.
The fear on his face was instant and absolute. Before I could react, his hand was around my throat, not squeezing but holding me in place as he brought his face so close to mine that I could feel his breath on my lips.
“All in good time, you little shit,” he said, his voice deadly quiet. “And if it happens a moment sooner, I’ll know it’s you. Then I’ll stop being so nice.”
My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could feel it, but I glared back at him anyway. “You already ruined my life in a million ways. I’d like to see you try to make it worse.”
Aiden’s eyebrows jumped playfully, and he pressed against me a fraction harder, his body warm and solid against mine. “Are you seriously getting hard, you little freak? This is what gets you off?”
The embarrassment hit me like an abyss opening in my chest. Because he was right—I was hard, and the combination of his threat and his proximity was doing things to my body that I didn’t want to examine too closely.
I shoved him back again, putting distance between us. “Go to hell.”
Aiden chuckled, but there was something softer in his expression now, almost fond. “Not shaming you,” he said. “Hell, if you ask me very nicely, I might help you with that.”
“Go to hell,” I repeated, turning to leave.
But his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, and I hated myself for letting him do that again and for the way my pulse jumped at the contact. When I looked back at him, the shameless flirting was still there, but underneath it was actual panic, poorly disguised and desperate.
“Seriously,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Not a fucking word to anyone.”
“Seriously,” I shot back. “It’s not your fucking call.”
I pulled my wrist free and walked away, leaving him standing there among the scattered books and crumpled papers. I could feel his eyes on me as I moved through the stacks, but I didn’t look back.
The truth was, I wouldn’t tell anyone. Not because of his threats or his pleading, but because I understood now what he was carrying. The micromanagement, the lack of freedom, the crushing weight of family expectations. I knew what that felt like, even if my parents were gentler about it.
But there was something else, something that made my hands shake as I mindlessly pulled books from the shelves. Theway he’d pressed me against the bookcase, the feel of his hand on my throat, the dark promise in his voice, it had awakened something in me that I didn’t know existed.
I’d discovered I had a kink for being dominated, and Aiden fucking Whitmore was the one who’d shown it to me.
