Page 31 of Reckless at Westbrook High

“Make me.”

“Lev..” I grit out, warning him without words that I’m about five seconds away from kicking his ass, but he’s not afraid of me.

He’s never been afraid of me.

And I’d never hurt him.

Not really.

“What the fuck is she doing here, Wren?”

I stare at the bruise beneath his left eye while I try to come up with a decent explanation, but I can’t think straight when he’s in my face like this, so close I can fucking taste him.

And fuck, he tastes good.

And looks good.

And feels good..

He glares and tightens his grip on my neck, still waiting for an answer to his question, but I just shrug, lamely feigning indifference. “Who?”

“Don’t play with me,” he warns. “Why the fuck is she here, riding shotgun and holding your fucking hand in the hall like the last year and a half never happened?”

I bite down on my jaw so hard I’m sure it’s about to crack, struggling to look him in the eye while I lie to his face. “We’re back together.”

He laughs at that, but he doesn’t find me funny. His eyes are wild and untamed, filled with so many emotions it’s hard to pinpoint just one.

He’s fucking lost it.

Tossed his sanity aside to corner me in a locked bathroom while my new fiancé stands less than ten feet away, probably waiting for me on the other side of the door I’m pressed up against.

The thought shouldn’t make my dick hard, but it does.

“What’s really goin’ on here, Wren?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing,” he echos, raising a brow. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t give a fuck what you believe.”

“Is that right?”

I nod.

“You want her?”

I nod again, dropping my head back against the wood when he leans in to tease my lips with his.

“Tell me.”

“I want her.”

He grinds on me and I tense, digging my nails into my palms to stop myself from touching him.

“Say that again.”

“I want her,” I say it again, swallowing a groan when he slides his tongue over my bottom lip, gently taking it between his teeth to drag it out.

---