Elite (Eagle Elite #1)(35)

“Yeah, but aren’t people going to talk about this? And why was the dean so chill? I mean, he’s like twice your age.”

Nixon shrugged. “We have an understanding.”

“Right.” I nodded. “What type of understanding? He follows your rules or you shoot him in the face?”

Nixon laughed again. “Wow, thanks I needed that.” His eyes glistened in the moonlight. “Is that what people do on TV, shoot people in the face?”

“Yes, well. No. I guess. I don’t know.” I sighed. “What are you? Some sort of gangster or something?”

“Sure.” His fingers moved to the back of my neck caressing the skin just below my hairline. “Let's go with that. I’m a gangster.”

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Have you?” he fired back as if offended I would even ask.

Well, that shut me up. His hand moved to my cheek sending shivers down my spine. “It's not fair,” I said breathlessly.

“What?” His eyes were on my lips.

“That you can touch me, but I can’t touch you.” That you look like a god and I look like a poor farm girl. I sighed and stepped away from him.

He tilted his head to the side. “Would you rather I not touch you?”

“No!” I blurted. Then covered my face with my hands.

He chuckled and pulled me into his body so my head rested against his chest. “I just don’t understand. What’s so different? I mean we’re touching now, but…”

“I’m in control of it.” He exhaled and tilted my chin toward his. “I know it sounds crazy. I just… I don’t like it when people touch me without permission. Ever since I was a kid, after—” He swallowed. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter. It’s just this thing I have.”

“Like the rules?” I whispered.

“Yeah, like the rules.” His thumb grazed my lower lip. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

I laughed awkwardly and tried to tilt my chin down but he wouldn’t let me. Why I was letting the guy who put the fear of God into the dean touch my face, I don’t know. But… there was something about him. Something that made me want to touch him, made me crave his touch, and I hated that I responded to him, especially after the way he treated me at first.

“Don’t,” he whispered against my cheek as he bent his lips to my ear. “Don’t pull away from me, please.”

“Okay.” My voice was shaky and wobbly and my heart sounded like I’d just run a marathon. Breathe. I just needed to breathe.

His lips found my neck and I let out an involuntary gasp.

“So sensitive,” he murmured as his tongue wet his lips and then drew a design just below my ear. “So damn sensitive. Your skin’s so soft right here.”

I shivered as his mouth met my jaw. His hands moved to clench my hair, forcing me closer. “Nixon.” My voice was weak. “What are you doing?”

His lips met mine. The kiss was brief. He sighed. “I wish I knew.”

“You can’t just…” I swallowed. “You can’t just go around kissing people you hate.”

“Who said I hate you?” He released my head and stepped back.

“Well, you weren’t exactly shaking my hand and shouting my name a few days ago.”

Nixon licked his lips. His hooded eyes blazed a hot trail across my body until I thought I might die from wanting him right then and there. “So you want me to shout your name? Is that what this is about?”

Laughing, I pushed him away. “Stop being such a guy. I’m serious.”

“Oh, believe me…” He ran his hand along my shoulder and down my collarbone until his fingers brushed the first few buttons of my shirt. I had no doubt in my mind that the guy probably had an A+ in stripping women of their clothes with one hand. “I’m dead serious.”

I swallowed the nervous laughter bubbling up within me and stepped out of his reach. “So gangster, you gonna tell me why you’ve taken personal interest in running this school?”

Taking the hint, he shoved his hands in his pockets and fell into step beside me. “I like things to be fair.”

“Wow, then you’re at the wrong school for that.”

“You know what I mean. I do what I can when I can. Besides, it’s kind of one of my jobs, to keep the peace around here, keep the secrets, keep everyone happy. It’s exhausting actually.”

“I have a hard time imagining anyone making you do anything.”

He laughed bitterly. “Then clearly you haven’t met my dad.”

I stopped walking and pulled his hand. “What do you mean? Is he… is he bad?”

Nixon sighed. “Well, he’s no Mickey Mouse or Santa Claus if that’s what you’re asking.” He bit his lip and opened his mouth as if he was going to say more. Instead he grunted and grabbed my hand. “Doesn’t matter. Anyways, I was going to ask you earlier but then I got distracted by all your drug money…”

I rolled my eyes.

“Does the name Alfero mean anything to you?”

“Alfero?” I repeated. “Hmm…as in Alfredo without the D?”

“Yes. As in the food.” He glanced at my necklace and sighed. “It’s on the back of your necklace.”