13. Lucian #3
“So what if I have?” she throws back, crossing her arms over her chest. It causes her arms to press against the front of my jersey, and my gaze inadvertently drops to the swell of her breasts beneath the crisp, cream blouse she has on today.
She always does a staggeringly impressive job of straddling the line of professionalism and making me want to bend her over the nearest hard surface to find out what color panties she has on beneath her skirt.
“Since apparently none of you are capable of doing as I ask and leaving me alone, I’m left with no other choice but to ignore you.
” Her lip curls in a sexy little snarl. “Whatever you think you are to me…you’re not. ”
“Oh, how wrong you are, Little Moth.” I can’t help myself.
I reach up, twining a stray strand of hair that has come loose from her tight bun around my finger.
The auburn color contrasts beautifully against my paler skin before I pull on it just sharp enough to make her gasp.
“I’ve seen the fire underneath all that fear, and I’ve already decided. You’re mine.”
I don’t give my words a chance to truly land, to penetrate, before I eliminate the space between us.
My lips land on hers, powerful and demanding.
Her mouth opens on a gasp, and I bulldoze my way in, my tongue tangling with hers.
Fireworks go off in my head. For the first time ever, the noise just…
stops. The demons constantly clawing at the edges of my psyche go quiet.
Before I can fall too deep into the vortex that is Wren Winslow, tiny, ineffectual fists smack against my chest, and she wrenches her lips from mine.
“What the hell was that?” she accuses, but her lips are swollen, her eyes glassy. I can see her chest rising more rapidly than it was before. Maybe pushing her was the wrong move to make, but she had to see.
“Tell me,” I demand, holding her gaze and daring her. “Tell me you seriously believe we’re the ones who hurt you.”
Her lips part, but no words come out.
I daringly step closer, swallowing up her space. “Tell me that kiss didn’t just confirm everything you’ve been questioning.”
She stares at me, eyes searching mine. That’s fine. I’ve nothing to hide, including exactly how I feel about her, so I let her look. Let her see it all.
“I don’t—” She shakes her head, composing herself in those split few seconds. When she meets my face again, her expression has hardened. “Leave me alone, Lucian. I mean it. This is the last time I’m asking.”
My laugh is borderline cruel-sounding.
Yeah, like that’s ever going to happen.
“I’ll leave you alone for now, but that’s the best I can offer. You and I are far from over, Little Moth.”
I move back toward the door, but before I step out of the closet, I turn back to face her. “Stop ignoring my texts. We have a project to complete, unless you want us to fail.”
It seems to take her a moment to wrap her head around the change in conversation. “If you’re so worried about your grade, why don’t you go running back to Professor Cartwright and ask for your original partner back?”
I smirk. Fuck, I love her fire. Love that it’s even more precious because it glows despite the world trying to smother it.
“Nah. I’d far rather chase you down in supply closets and convince you to work with me.” I smirk at her ire. “So how about tonight? Eight o’clock, my place.”
“Absolutely not.” She’s shaking her head, lips pressed into a flat line.
She knows she can’t keep putting off this project.
Not if she wants to pass Professor Cartwright’s class.
After a moment of consideration, she huffs out a breath.
“The library,” she counters. “We’ll meet at the library. Tomorrow.”
I tilt my head, studying her.
Her pulse hammers at the base of her throat—quick, loud, alive.
She’s scared.
And still pushing back.
Good.
“Scared to be alone with me?” I wag my eyebrows suggestively.
“No,” she scoffs, but there’s just the slightest hitch to her breath that gives away the lie. It makes my chest swell with pride.
“It’s cute that you think neutral ground exists between us.” I smirk at her before placing a hand over my heart. “But I am always happy to compromise when it comes to you, so the library tomorrow, it is.”
“Great,” she drolls. “Can I get back to work now?” Her nose scrunches as her gaze runs over my practice gear. “And you really need a shower.”
“Have you been sniffing me, Wren Winslow?” I tease, amusement glinting in my eyes. “How incredibly filthy and inappropriate of you.”
Her face blanches in shock, eyes going wide.
“I wasn’t—I didn’t…that’s not…”
While she’s still sputtering out a response, I wink at her and back toward the door.
“Tomorrow, at the library. Don’t make me chase you down, Little Moth.”
I could spend the rest of the day tucked away with her in that supply closet, but I force myself to turn away. To walk out the door.
And as it clicks shut behind me, I realize the fury is gone. Replaced by something colder. Something sharper.
The quiet certainty that I’ll ruin anyone who tries to take her from me.