Page 16 of Pay for Your Lies

She nods, but she’s distracted, her focus fixated on her phone.

I’d noticed her texting someone while we were in line earlier. Must be one of the girls.

I’m relieved either way. I didn’t really feel like talking about Carter right now.

“Hello, love.” That voice says from behind me, before one long leg swings over the bench right next to me.

I inadvertently jump when he places his hand between my shoulder blades, the unexpected contact sending a startling shiver down my spine. He uses his touch for balance as he lifts his other leg over to join the first and drops beside me.

Instead of immediately removing his hand, he follows the path of the shiver and lets his fingers run down my spine to my lower back, pausing a tenth of a second over the top of my ass before letting it fall away.

To any passing observer, that move probably looked innocuous enough, but sitting here it feels as intimate as if he’d wrapped an arm around me.

I know every move he makes is calculated and intentional.

“Nervous to see me?” He asks with a teasing smile, my reaction to his touch not having gone unnoticed as I’d hoped.

I shift my ass slightly to the left, adding some space between us.

“I’d classify it more as “physically repulsed”, actually.”

“I’m hurt.” He says, playing with the words between his lips so they come out sensually pleading. They slide over my skin like liquid mercury, simultaneously cooling and burning my blood.

He’s equally as deadly with a word and a smile as a Basilisk is with fangs and a pair of eyes.

Charisma drips from his pores, even as he does something as trivial as sitting at a cafeteria table, his face resting in his large hand as he stares at me, waiting for my reply.

The energy we create when we come together feels noxious, like we’re constantly teetering on the edge, threatening to fall over.

Fall into what, I’m not sure.

“Somehow I think you’ll survive.”

He cocks his head to the side, looking at me through lazy, hooded eyes.

“Always the sharp tongue with me.” He says, his eyes falling to my lips and staying there.

I try to breathe normally but my throat bobs as I swallow, drawing his eyes down to my neck.

His gaze leisurely traces over the width of my throat a couple of times before he exhales a heavy breath and looks back up to meet my gaze.

“Is it maybe because if you’re nice to me you’re afraid you’ll get to know me, fall madly in love – which would be understandable you know, few resist – and fuck me?”

“No,” I answer, throwing him a glare, “contrary to male popular belief everywhere, even if I am nice to you it doesn’t mean I want to fuck you.”

“Then let’s be thankful you aren’t nice to me. That’s definitely got to mean you want to fuck me.”

Nera chokes out a laugh before smothering it with a cough and throwing me an apologetic look.

I hide the fact that one corner of my lips lifts a fraction. He can be annoyingly quick witted.

“You’re impossible. Stop twisting my words.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Gracious of you.” I tell him sarcastically, as I stand from the table. “Mean, nice, it doesn’t matter. Neither one means I want to sleep with you.”

I reach for my tray and his arm snakes out, his large hand wrapping around my small wrist. I stare at where he grabs me, the size difference almost comical.

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