Page 9 of One Twisted Lie

“You would know.”

“You’re a child.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.” I grit my teeth. Great, now he has me acting like some fucking twelve-year-old. I try to push my annoyance aside. “You coming to the rave with us?”

“Duh. I’m the one that suggested it,” he snaps, looking at me like I’m an idiot. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” I ask, wondering how exactly I’m acting that’s making him so defensive. I’m just trying to have a reasonable conversation, something I now severely regret. “What?”

He clenches his jaw and looks over his shoulder, tapping his foot impatiently before turning back to me with a hushed whisper. “Look, just because I sucked your dick doesn’t mean I’m into you.”

I snort, throwing my hands in the air because he really is a child. “Oh my god. You really are delusional. I’m not looking at you in any way. Besides, you’re the one that got on your knees for me.”

It’s a low blow, but he started it. I’m not going to lie and say that the memory hasn’t been dancing around my head, living annoyingly rent-free, and driving me crazy. I do have a hint of satisfaction, however, at the fact that it’s apparently gotten to him as much as it’s gotten to me.

“A sheer moment of insanity,” he says. “It’ll never happen again.”

“No?” I ask, cocking my head to the side. “I think you want it to happen again.”

“I assure you, I do not.” Even though he’s denying it, he blushes.

Jackpot.

Damn, it’s just so much fun fucking with him. After all these years, I finally have something to hold over his head. I finally found a way to get to him. If he wants to be in denial, fine. That doesn’t mean I have to be. I’m confident enough with myself to say that I enjoyed getting my dick sucked by him, but what guy wouldn’t like a blowjob?

If it’s going to cause him any sort of discomfort to think about it, I’m sure as hell going to pull at those strings.

“You liked my cock in your mouth,” I state, taking a step toward him and reveling in the fact that he takes a step back. “You liked being humiliated like that. It got you hard.”

He shakes his head, that Adam’s apple bouncing as he swallows harshly. “I—”

“Deny it all you want, Clark,” I whisper, finally chest to chest with him, licking my lips and chuckling cruelly when his eyes track my movements. “I get off on your self-loathing.”

That does it for him. His hands fly up to my chest, but he doesn’t push me away. They’re just resting there, fingers digging subtly into my shirt. I don’t know if he realizes he’s doing it. “If I was willing to stoop down to your level, Everett, I swear I’d—”

“What? Hurtme? Humiliateme? For that to happen I’d have to care.” I laugh, taking another step toward him until he’s pressed against the tree I was hiding behind earlier. I look over my shoulder quickly and, because we’re both late for class, the courtyard is virtually empty. The students that are leftover aren’t paying us any attention. I turn back to him and press my lips against his gently, teasingly. “What did I tell you would happen the next time you threatened me?”

“I don’t remember,” he whispers back, his tongue darting out to lick my lower lip. Christ, how can I hate him this much but be willing to do this? He must be right. We must be temporarily insane.

“No, you do. That’s why you did it.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Suddenly, my hands are on his ass. I grip him violently, roughing, squeezing his ass, and groaning when he whimpers. “You want me to slap this ass until it’s red and raw. You want to cry for me, princess?”

In an instant, he’s pushing me away. I stumble back slightly and regain my stance. He’s a flushed and stuttering mess. He coughs and adjusts his tie as he shakes his head. “Prick.”

I snort. So, we’re back to this again. “Asshole.”

“Douche.”

“Fucker.” I wink at him, grabbing my bag from the ground as I do. “See you at the rave.”

And I leave him like that—hard as a rock in his pants, disheveled, and wondering why the fuck he wants me as much as he does.

But, best of all, humiliated.

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