Chapter 18 Scarlett
SCARLETT
Pain sears my neck, and I gasp. There’s a heavy weight on my waist as the cage digs into my back. What the–?
I blink to clear my vision.
It only takes half a second to remember where I am and who I’m with. The other half of that second is me teetering between being turned on and angry.
“What the fuck, Cross?” I push on his hard chest, and he willingly moves backward.
The smirk on his face fuels the anger simmering on the inside to boil over completely. My eyes drop to the flask on the mat beneath our feet, and I shake with fury. “What is wrong with you?” my voice vibrates.
“The real question is, what’s wrong with you, Scarlett?"
My forehead furrows as I cross my arms. “Nothing is wrong with me!”
Cross leisurely walks over to the flask and swoops it into his palm before walking closer to me. The metal catches a glare from the light as he shakes it in front of my face like a tease.
“You’re sick,” I seethe. “Why would you say that to me? Why–why…would you–” I stutter as I try to find the correct words. “Why would you fuck with me like that?”
Cross’s gaze darkens. His eyes narrow into slits as he leers at me from no more than a foot away. “Who said I’m fucking with you?”
Fear wraps around my throat like a vise grip.
My heart beats a mile a minute, and I press against the cage. Only, there’s nowhere to escape to. I couldn’t run with Nick, and I can’t run with Cross.
He quickly erases the space between us, our breath dancing in front of one another. Short gasps escape from my rising chest, and his eyes drop to the rapid movement before he quickly grabs a hold of my chin, squeezing just enough to get my attention. “Open your mouth.”
I clench my jaw. “No.” My refusal slips out between my tight teeth.
Something moves across his face, and weirdly enough, it looks like pride.
“Don’t you trust me?” he asks.
I stare at him for far too long. His brown eyes are no longer filled with anger but, instead, curiosity.
Being this close to him should scare me, and it does to a certain extent, but not for the reason it should. It scares me because the little voice in the back of my head is telling me to say that I do trust him.
But I don’t.
Right?
Cross squeezes my chin again, this time my lips pursing.
I reach up out of instinct and grab a hold of his wrist. It’s strong and sturdy, just like he is.
“I trusted him,” I admit, referencing Nick. “So excuse me for not trusting you.”
With one hand still holding me hostage, the other messes with the flask. My pulse thrums when Cross lifts the opened container and positions it above my closed mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the bite of alcohol to touch my lips. Except, it never does.
My eyes fly open when the liquid flows onto my tongue.
“It’s water,” he says. “I just wanted to see how you’d react.”
I unclench my jaw. “Why?”
Cross’s eyes move languidly back and forth between mine, like he’s trying to learn every one of my secrets.
He stares at me for a brief second.
“Is this what he did to you?” he questions, tipping his head back to let the water inside the flask pour into his own mouth.
I watch in awe as his throat moves smoothly with each swallow before he tosses the container off to the side.
The sound of it hitting the mat echoes around us, but all I can think about is how that same flask was just touching my lips a moment ago.
“Did he get you drunk so he was able to do this…” Cross quickly drops my chin, and both of his hands end up around my waist.
I arch my back as a sharp breath of air leaves me.
I push myself onto the cage again, the metal rattling around us.
The temperature kicks up a degree as Cross’s knee makes its way in between my legs, spreading them open just enough to get me thinking all sorts of things I shouldn’t be when it comes to him.
What is wrong with me?
This is wrong, on so many levels.
One second, I’m ready to murder him, and the next, a flush is working itself up my neck.
Not to mention, we’re stepsiblings.
I exhale shakily as Cross’s warm breath coats the side of my neck. His nose graces the delicate skin, and it puts me in a daze. My head falls to the side, and I swear I hear him chuckle.
“Or…” The warm embrace from Cross’s closeness vanishes. He moves quickly, his nose skimming my skin as he positions his face in front of me. “Did he slip something in your drink so he didn’t have to face your rejection?”
Like pulling the trigger on a gun, I look away, unable to face the question.
Cross tugs me toward him, the cage behind my back no longer there to support me. Instead, it’s him and his hold on my waist.
“Answer me.” His low voice is more of a command than anything, and I could lie, deny his accusation. I could pretend it never happened and that Nick was just some lousy ex-boyfriend.
But for some reason, I find myself opening my mouth and doing the complete opposite.
Maybe it’s because of our close proximity or the way his brown eyes soften as he waits for my reply. Either way, my voice croaks as I give him exactly what he wants: the truth.
“The latter,” I say quietly.
Cross’s eye twitches. “He spiked your drink?”
I flare my nostrils in an attempt to keep myself from showing him how ashamed I am. My throat grows tight, and the longer I stare into his waiting eyes, the more twisted I become.
“It’s not that uncommon,” I say, chalking it up to something much less severe than what it is. “Girls get drugged all the time.”
Cross’s temples flicker back and forth, the grinding of his teeth louder than my pounding heart. “I’m going to let that slide,” he forces out. “Now tell me more.”
I bite the inside of my cheek before giving in.
“We were seeing each other. Nothing serious.” My voice begins to quiver, so I look away, staring out into the dark gym.
“We kissed a few times, and then he invited me to a party. We danced throughout the night…and he was the perfect gentleman. I’d heard nothing but good things about him, but…
” I shrug. “I guess I wasn’t putting out quick enough. ”
Cross quickly steps away from me. His back is the only thing I see as he furiously makes his way across the cage. I exhale loud enough for him to peer at me over his shoulder, and when our eyes connect, he’s spinning back around and heading for me again.
“That fucking bastard,” he growls, grabbing me around the waist again. “When he made the comment about you, I didn’t think–”
Shock flickers throughout. “What comment?”
“He told me to get you drunk so you’d open up your legs for me.”
My vision blurs. “That fucking asshole,” I mutter. “I hate him.”
“Good,” he bites out. “Use that fire I see in your eyes, and take it out on me. We’re not leaving this gym until I feel that you’re capa–”
Suddenly, my lips are on his.
Something dangerously intoxicating explodes, and I’m doing exactly what he said to do: I’m using the fire burning from the inside out, and I’m taking it out on him.
My tongue dives past his lips, moving against his with an urgency.
The grasp he has around my waist tightens, and my breasts press against his hard chest, my heart beating a million miles a minute, like it’s going to charge right out of my chest.
He deepens the kiss as my back slams against the cage, his taste blinding me from everything.
I’ve never felt this wild before. My entire body is in a frenzy.
The way his mouth seals over mine is life changing.
It’s like he’s trying to suck the soul right out of my body, and I’m willingly letting him.
One hand disappears from my hip, only to grab a hold of my wandering hands. He pins them above my head, the metal cage biting into my skin.
God, this is hot.
Pleasure rushes to my breasts, my nipples pleading for him to take my shirt off.
Cross tears his mouth away. “What the fuck–”
My eyes open as soon as he steps away. I exhale sharply and try to steady myself on shaky legs. Cross’s face is filled with horror as he wipes the back of his hand over his glistening lips.
We stare at each other for a few seconds, but a thousand thoughts move across his face.
I shouldn't have kissed him.
His regret is painfully obvious, and I should be feeling the same way.
What was I thinking?
“I…” I shake my head. “I–”
“Save it,” he snaps. “We’re done for the day.”
Cross strides across the cage and hops on agile feet to the floor. I follow after him quietly, the guilt and embarrassment following after me like a shadow.
I can’t believe I kissed him.
It was like something came over me, and I couldn’t be stopped.
I climb inside his car, and right then, I decide it’s best to just pretend it never happened. I refuse to look in his direction. Instead, I stare out the window at the blurring yellow lines until we pull up in front of the house.
I’m out of the car before he even manages to turn the engine off, and I don’t fully breathe again until I’m tucked away safely in my bedroom.
I flop onto my desk chair and fiddle with my protractor as I stare at myself in the mirror with disappointment. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and quickly do a double-take.
“What the hell–” I turn my head to the side, and my jaw falls.
My hand instinctively flies up to my neck to cover a red-and-purplish mark that resembles a bite. Heat bursts across my cheeks with the faint memory of Cross’s lips on my throat.
I clench my eyes shut to rid the thought from my brain.
Shit.