Page 21 of Tangled Rose

“You want to know what I was thinking?” he rasps.

I inhale sharply. Swallow. “Yes. Tell me.”

“I imagined it was you. Your warm mouth on me. Your tongue flicking at the head of my cock. Your throat that I thrust into as I came so fucking hard. And it was all because you were right there. It felt like it was the two of us. That’s why it was your name on my lips.” He nips at my earlobe. “Did it get you worked up, too, Lyla? Did it make you wet, watching me like that?”

My tongue flicks out, touching my upper lip as I think back to how goddamn hot it had been. Instinctively, my hips roll and my thighs tighten. I admit, “It did. You won’t tell anyone?”

“What am I not telling?” He chuckles with a shrug, pretending like the last thirty seconds of conversation never happened. “I have nothing to tell. Nothing at all.” He winks.

I get a sinking feeling in my gut. He has to be lying. My breath hitches in my throat. “You’re totally going to tell them.” I push away and grab for the edge, accidentally dunking myself again in the process. I come up choking on water.

“Hey, I was joking around. I won’t.” He helps me to the edge, where I hold on tightly as he pushes himself up and climbs out of the water. Turning, he squats down, holding his hands out to me. When I glare at him, he sighs. “Seriously. It’s no big deal. If you don’t want me to say anything, I won’t. Not about any of it.” He locks eyes with me. He means he’ll keep quiet about how I was in his room uninvited on multiple occasions and about how I watched him with that girl, too. But will he really? All of my past experiences converge and suddenly, I’m gasping for air. Panicking.

No fucking way this is that easy. No fucking way. I bite my lip as he hoists me from the pool. We’re both sopping wet, our clothes streaming water everywhere. “Great. I get it. You’re going to hold all of it over my head. That’s fucking great.”

“I didn’t—” His brows pinch together, and he grits his teeth. “That’s not what I fucking said or meant, and you know it.”

“I bet it was a great surprise for you last night. There I was, all pissy with you, pushing you away and calling you a manwhore.” I blow out a hard breath. “And then I watched you get off like some sick, twisted bitch getting my jollies.” My chest tightens, and I close my eyes as anger flares through me. “Why don’t you tell the whole school tomorrow? Lyla is a mouthy snoop and a skanky voyeur. She must be from a fantastic family. Get it over with. I don’t fucking care!” I haul ass back to the house, only pausing a fraction of a second when I see we’ve had an audience for that last exchange. Fuck my life. What did I do to deserve any of this?

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