Chapter 18
Easton
“Don‘t.” Harper‘s voice is soft, luscious in all the right places that hit me yet again in all the places | should not be thinking about when it comes to her. What the hell is with this girl lately? Furthermore, what the hell‘s with me? It‘s driving me insane how she bothers me.
The way I want to attack her more and more, like I crave her tears just as much as her smiles.
How sick is that?
She leans back in her seat, then looks over her shoulder at me, and all I can focus on is that lush mouth and how it would taste, which is complete bullshit and probably means I need to get my head examined for a concussion.
I wait for her words, and I fucking hate that I want to know what she‘ll say. I want to know if she‘s in pain, if she wants to kill me, if I‘ve done my job in making sure she understands that this is a no fly zone–she‘s not welcome here, not near our little friend group when she‘s trying to find herself in front of all of us, mainly me.
“Don‘t, what?” I grin.
Her breath comes out in a soft exhale.
“.…try to pay attention,” Mr. Egis says as the lights lower.
The movie turns on and we‘re blanketed in semi–darkness. For some reason, even with a kid named Eugene on my right and a Steve on my left drawing lame hearts in his binder–the moment feels sexual.
I ignore the way she‘s semi looking back at me. Her teeth bite down on her lower lip, like she‘s thinking of what to say. Does she realize what that‘s doing to me–to any guy who has eyes?
I imagine too many things. Things like tossing her against this flimsy desk and tugging the hell out of
her hair until she screams with pain and pleasure.
“Don‘t bother. I can find my own guy, one who doesn‘t yell at me, talk down to me, or make me feel stupid when I know I‘m the smartest one in the room.” She smiles sweetly. “You‘ll just injure a brain cell, and we know you‘re running short on those.” Her eyelashes flutter and I‘m nearly lost.
I don‘t often get talked to that way and it‘s kind of turning me on more –more than it should.
She turns back around.
I tap her shoulder
“What?” She snaps in a sexy
whisper
“You don‘t need brain cells to give someone an orgasm.”
“You‘re insane,” s he hisses.
“Want a demonstration of what you‘re missing?”
What am I even saying right now? | don‘t like her! I just like her mouth!
This is getting out of control, this weird need to shove her away and this angry need to pull her close only so I can hurt her and lick her tears.
Therapy. I need to look into it.
But I can’t stop talking
“I think you need one...” I nod my head, mind made up. “I mean, of course, with your consent.”
“Touch me and I‘m breaking your dick in half.” Her words say one thing, but I see the way her body arches back a bit, and how she crosses her legs.
“Feeling wet?” I whisper.
We exit the classroom together and I grab her hand, looking both ways down the hall before I drag her into the closest janitor‘s closet, flipping on the light and turning the lock when we‘re tucked inside.
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