Page 71 of Cruel Prep (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 1)

When I reach out to seize her chin between my fingers, she swats my hand away. Lightning fast, I grab her fingers and pull her towards me, forcing her to meet my eyes. I ignore the constant drip of the melting ice in my chest.

“You want to know if this is anything more than it is, if I actually care about you. To me, that means you are looking for something more.”

Embarrassment crawls up her neck, a slow tide of blush creeping into her face, revealing all of her secrets.

“That’s not—I’m not—I don’t—” She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “I just want to know what you want … that’s all. Asking for clarification doesn’t mean I want more. And it definitely doesn’t mean I love you.”

Her brown eyes are piercing on that last point. I ignore the small stab of disappointment in the pit of my stomach.

“Good.”

She tries to pull her hand away, but I tighten my grip until she winces. She glares at me. “Just tell me what you want. Tell me what you want with me and why you are doing … all of this.”

“You want to know what I want?”

Lily’s expression opens up, and she nods slowly. “Yes.”

I lean forward, and her lips part in expectation. Her eyelids flutter, her long lashes brushing over her burning red cheeks. I get close enough that our lips almost touch, and then—

“I want you to touch yourself.”

I feel the rush of her breath on my skin, tempting me to close the distance between us.

Before I can, she yanks her hand out of my grip and jerks away, her back hitting the passenger side door. “What?”

I sit back in my seat, one eyebrow raised. “I want to watch you touch yourself.”

She laughs, but it is mostly out of discomfort. “No. Definitely not.”

“Why not?” I ask flatly.

“Because I’m not in the mood,” she snaps.

“Thatbegs to differ,” I say, gesturing to her perky, pebbled nipples beneath the thin layer of sports bra fabric.

Lily hurries to cross her arms to hide the evidence.

“And I’d bet your panties are wet right now,” I whisper, leaning towards her, my fingers walking across the console towards her. “Every time we’ve touched, you’ve been soaked. Ready instantly.”

She twists away from me, and I blow a stream of air against the back of her neck, making goose bumps sprout along her shoulders.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Just because my body is ready, doesn’t mean I want it.”

I click my tongue. “But you said this wasn’t a relationship. You said you didn’t want that. So, if you don’t want a relationship, then shouldn’t what your body wants be your only concern? Why does it matter what your mind or heart is saying if your body is clearly attracted to me?”

She looks over her shoulder at me, brows lowered and angry, but her lips are still parting. Her breathing is heavier, and her arms have loosened over her chest.

I reach over and drag a finger from her shoulder to her elbow. Her skin is sticky with dried sweat, but I’ve still never felt anything smoother. I’ve still never wanted anyone so much.

“Touch yourself,” I whisper. “Unless you want me to do it for you.”

Her eyes widen. “You wouldn’t.”

I shrug. “You said yourself you don’t know what I’m capable of.”

Her arms fall to her sides, her pebbled nipples visible through the thin material.

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