The Bet: A Bully Romance(75)

Never breaking eye contact, she makes it all the way in front of my chair without falling over her own two feet. She clenches the strap of her backpack so tight, her knuckles turn white and her hand quivers.

Fear shines prominent in her eyes, but there’s also curiosity and excitement. I hold my hand out to her, and she looks down at it in wonder. Her fingers ease up on the strap before she lets her backpack slide down her shoulder and drop to the floor.

Her small, shaking hand reaches for mine. The second her soft hand touches my much larger, rougher one, her trembling subsides. I gently pull her down into my lap, and her leg brushes against my hardened dick, almost making me come in my pants.

Her pink cheeks turn into a fiery crimson when she feels the effect she has on me. My cock presses firmly against her thigh, but I don’t care. I have no plans of hiding how she makes my body feel.

Her free hand lands on my shoulder as if it belongs there, and I realize it does.

She belongs to me. She is mine.

The words are foreign to me. I’ve never claimed a woman before, and I'm not sure how to feel about it.

My nostrils tingle as I inhale her sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon. The aroma is something I already know will be forever embedded into my mind, always reminding me of this tiny little creature in front of me.

“I…” she starts.

I hold my finger up to her lips, silencing her. “Shhh. Just kiss me,” I order.

I don’t think she’s even blinked since I’ve asked her for a kiss. Part of me wonders if she’s going to go through with it. She closes her eyes, and I take in every tiny detail of her perfect features. Her long, dark lashes fan across her unblemished skin, and she adorably puckers her lips just slightly as she inches toward me.

She’s so fucking adorable, I feel like an even bigger asshole for making her do this. But my selfish needs outweigh my moral code—something that’s partially broken anyway. I want to keep my eyes open, not wanting to miss a second of seeing her, but once her lips touch mine, I’m no longer able to do so.

Her lips graze mine, hesitant. She kisses with a softness that tells me one thing: she’s innocent. My eyes flutter closed, and my brain ceases to work. The world could have stopped spinning, and I wouldn’t have noticed.

My pulse pounds in my ears, and I fist the soft fabric of her shirt. She’s tiny, so fucking tiny, and it breaks down all my walls. The urge to devour, protect, and secure her consumes me, but I reign it in. I’m not the kind of man for someone like her. I’m a broken bastard, hardened by prison and life. I’m also selfish, and feelings aren’t something I can spare right now.

She softly moans into my mouth, and a zing of excitement slams into my dick. Her lips are soft, so fucking soft, so I press mine greedily against hers, eating up her moans and gasps. I release her shirt and work my way up her body until I’m cradling her face in my hands. It only takes a second for her to realize how wild this could get. She pulls away, a flustered expression marring her beautiful features.

Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound fills the small room. Without thought, she jumps off my lap and scurries back a few feet, clutching her backpack to her chest, looking at me like I stole her innocence.

It’s irritating as fuck. She’s the one who jumped in my lap and kissed me. “Don’t look at me like I killed your fucking dog. I kissed you, and from the way you pawed at me, I doubt you didn’t want it,” I growl in frustration, a cross between need and anger spiraling out of control.

She flinches, her eyes going wide as she pulls her phone out of her backpack and disables the annoying beep. With unsteady hands, she gets out her books and lays them on the table next to my notepad. She opens them, turning to a page.

I know she is talking, probably about whatever she is supposed to tutor me in, but I can’t take my eyes off her. Her angelic voice reaches my ears, but I can’t make out the words.

I don’t know how much time passes. Could be a minute or an hour. I’m suddenly pulled out of my trance when the door swings open and a scrawny, dark-haired kid appears in the doorway.

“Hey, are you Elyse? My tutor?” he asks, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

Nerd. What the fuck does he need a tutor for? The fact that the fucker said her name hits me. Elyse? I let her name roll off my tongue.

It didn’t even occur to me to ask her for her name, not even when I was kissing the living daylights out of her.

“Yes, yes I am.” She smiles, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. It’s fake, and a look I’m sure she’s given many times. “We were just finishing up.” She turns her attention back to me briefly, pointing to her book. “You got all of this?”

I almost laugh. She can’t possibly think I heard a single word she said. I didn’t get a fucking thing from that book.

Shaking my head, I watch her swallow hard and can’t help but imagine her swallowing something else. Fuck me. I need to get out of here and get her out of my head before this whimsical siren becomes the death of me.

I shove away from the table and stand to grab my still-empty notepad before rushing out of the room and slamming the door shut behind me. I make it exactly three steps down the hall when the thought of her being alone in that room with another guy brings me to a halt.

It's unsettling how much this little waif of a woman affects me.

Gritting my teeth, I do what every sane man would and walk right back to the door I just came from, positioning myself in front of it. I sigh, leaning my shoulder against the door. I’m close enough to hear them talking inside, and that comforts me.