Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
SINCLAIR
I f I’m going to hell for everything I just experienced with August, then what a way to go because my God. My pussy still quivers from the tremendous orgasm I just experienced and my heart won’t stop racing. I try to take deep, even breaths, but it’s no use. I feel completely out of control and I don’t mind. In fact, I prefer it when he takes utter control of me and tells me what to do. There’s no guessing with him. Not really. I know he doesn’t particularly like me and I feel the same. But there’s this weird, overwhelming chemistry between us that sparks the air every time we’re near each other. I’m attracted to him, which sounds so utterly weak and silly, those four words.
I’m attracted to him isn’t enough to describe what happens between us when we’re together like this.
“Get up.” His voice is dark, full of irritation, and I yelp when I feel his palm come down hard on my ass cheek. The smack is loud in the otherwise quiet of the room and I try to roll away from him, but he reaches for me, his fingers gripping my hips. “You need to leave. ”
I tug out of his hold and sit up, pushing my hair out of my face so I can properly glare at him. “You’re so fucking rude.”
His expression doesn’t falter. He just watches me with that impassive look on his face. In his eyes. All while he grabs a pair of black sweats that were draped across the back of a chair and steps into them, covering his lower half. What a disappointment. “You’ve served your purpose. Now it’s time to go.”
I gape at him, at a loss for words for a moment. “You can’t just—treat women like that, you know?”
“Interesting you say that, considering this is the second encounter we’ve had and you seem to enjoy being with me.” His gaze takes on a predatory gleam. “Something about you brings out the worst behavior in me.”
“You’re a fucking asshole.” I’ve never spoken so cruelly to him before and it feels good.
No, scratch that. It feels great. Liberating even. Fourteen-year-old me would’ve loved the opportunity to call him exactly that. Though fourteen-year-old me would also be incredibly confused by my wanting to suck his dick.
He doesn’t respond. Just watches me from where he’s now perched on the edge of his massive bed while I grab the stupid red dress off the floor. I’m about to slip it on when his words halt me.
“You’re not going back out in that.”
I tug the dress into place, readjusting it around my boobs, hating how hard my nipples are. Enough to poke against the thin fabric like I’m still aroused which, okay fine, I still am. Just having his eyes on me is a turn-on. “I don’t really have a choice.”
“Hold on.” His aggravated exhale makes me sigh in frustration as well. He goes to his closet and throws open the door, pulling out a random sweatshirt before he brings it over to me. “Put it on. ”
I stare at the hoodie like I have no comprehension of what it is. “Why are you giving me this?”
“I don’t want you going out in public in that whorish dress. Who convinced you to wear it anyway?”
“It’s Elise’s,” I admit.
He rolls his eyes. “Figures. Here.” He shoves the sweatshirt practically into my chest and I grab it, shaking it out before I pull it on over my head.
It’s huge, falling almost to my knees and oh God, it smells just like him, which is dangerous. If I had my choice, I would never give this sweatshirt back to him ever. I will own it for all time and I will never wash it, which is disgusting, and I’m disturbed by my thoughts but not disturbed enough to hand the hoodie back to him.
“That’s better,” he says as he examines me. “Can’t even see the dress anymore.”
“Was it really that bad?” My voice is soft. I’m having a total moment of weakness and I hate that it’s happening in front of him.
“It was worse than you can possibly imagine. How unfortunate that you still have to wear the shoes.” His upper lip curls in disgust.
“Have any other shoes for me to wear then?”
“Oh yes. Let me check my endless supply of women’s shoes that I keep in my closet.” He sends me a wry look. “Of course I don’t have any shoes for you to wear. You’re stuck with those gold abominations.”
The straps have fallen down around my ankles and I bend over to fix them. “You weren’t complaining when you asked me to keep them on earlier.”
“I highly recommend you don’t talk back to me.” I glance up to find him glaring at me.
“What are you going to do, huh? Punish me?” I drag the last two words out, because come on. I need to examine why exactly I act the way I do when I’m with him, but now is not the time.
“No. You’d like that too much.” He reaches for me, carefully grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me up until I’m standing. “Time to go.”
“Let me go.” His fingers press into my skin, making goosebumps rise. Making me uncomfortable.
“No.” He smiles, devastatingly handsome when he does that.
“Take your hands off me before I call the cops.” My tone is measured, my gaze never wavering. I mean business.
His laughter is mocking. “Please. You wouldn’t have the courage.”
“Don’t forget I almost left your room completely naked,” I point out.
The laughter dies, his expression turning fierce. “I would’ve killed every motherfucker who looked at you twice if you walked out there without a stitch of clothing on. And that would’ve been everyone because your body is unbelievable. Their blood would be on your hands.”
My jaw drops at the offhanded compliment. He even seems startled that it slipped out and an unfamiliar feeling unfurls in my chest, warming me from the inside out.
It’s satisfaction. Bone-deep, delicious satisfaction.
Once I’m finished fixing the stilettos, I saunter over to him, smiling. Smug with the knowledge that he thinks my body is unbelievable . He’s admitted a few things to me that I think he hates confessing. And while most of the time I feel unsure and confused around him, right now I am practically brimming with confidence.
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” I announce.
He tilts his head down, scanning me as I stand before him in his hoodie and the stupid shoes. “Really. ”
His voice is flat. He doesn’t believe me.
I refuse to let him break me down. I need to leave this room with the upper hand. “What we have is really—fucked up.”
He snorts but otherwise says nothing.
“And it’s freaking me out.” I let my smile drop and hope I look frightened. That’s what I’m going for at least. It’s also kind of the truth because what we share between us is super intense and raw and almost…depraved? That feels like such a strong word to describe what’s happening, but I don’t know how else to describe it. I’ve gone from a virgin who’s barely done anything to having him shove his cock down my throat. He threatened to fuck me in the ass so I could keep my virginity intact. Like who does that?
He crosses his arms, which causes his biceps to bulge, and my mouth waters a little bit. For a man who doesn’t seem to have an athletic bone in his body beyond whatever he does sexually, he’s definitely fit. Though I have no idea if he participates in any kind of sport but he seemed over it at that football game.
“If it’s freaking you out, then you should probably leave.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and I know what he’s doing. Reverse psychology in the hopes that I’ll get out of here, which is what he’s wanted all along. I can go along with this.
“I will.” I offer him a tiny wave and grab my bag from where it dropped on the floor. “See you around.”
I exit his bedroom without a second glance, releasing the breath I didn’t know I was holding only after I shut the door behind me. I run a hand over my hair, hoping I don’t appear too trashed and I tug on the giant hoodie, knowing full well I look ridiculous but I don’t care.
With my head held high, I walk down the stairs, though no one is paying attention to me. Somehow, the house is even more crowded than it was when I first went to August’s room and I scan everyone’s faces, already frustrated. It’s going to be impossible to find Elise. She wouldn’t hear her phone if I tried to call her, it’s so loud in here.
“Sinclair! Holy shit!”
I turn at the familiar voice, pasting on the fake smile as Tim makes his way toward me. He’s clutching a beer can in one hand and there’s a giant grin on his face. He seems very glad to see me, while I am the complete opposite of that. “Hey, Tim.”
“Elise said you were here but I didn’t believe her.” He pulls me in for a quick hug and I make sure and pull away from him as fast as possible. “What’s up with the hoodie?”
“Oh, I had a minor—accident. Spilled something on my dress and this was the best thing to cover it up!” I am bright and cheery and eager to talk about something else. Anything else. “How are you? Where’s Rafe?”
Tim makes a face. “He took off with Elise.”
“Really?” I’m surprised, but then again, he’s the one who approached her first. I wonder if Tim is jealous.
“Things were getting weird between all of us.” He takes a step closer. “That’s why I’m glad you’re here tonight. I thought we could—talk.”
I am not talking to him. Not when I still have remnants of August’s cum on my lips. Not when the imprint of his hands and mouth and tongue still lingers on my skin.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Tim.” I tilt my head and try to send him meaningful glances but he doesn’t seem to be picking up what I’m trying to put down. “It’s better if we’re just friends, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know what to think.” He throws his hands up in the air, his frustration obvious and I almost feel sorry for him. But then I remember how he fucked my roommate with his roommate and all sympathy flies out the window. “I thought we could have something and now you’re friend-zoning me.”
“It could never work. You know this.” Pretending I’m not completely crushing his feelings, I change the subject. “Hey, do you think you could get Elise for me? I really want to head back to our dorm.”
“I’ll walk you back,” he suggests, and I’m shaking my head, cutting him off.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
His expression is crestfallen. “Come on, Sin. Don’t be so uptight.”
I don’t like how he calls me Sin. And I definitely don’t like him calling me uptight either.
“Go get Elise for me. Please.” I try to smile, but his expression is sullen and his eyes are dark. Giving off vibes like he’s looking for a fight and that’s the last thing I want.
“No. I’ll take you home. You don’t need her.” He grabs hold of my arm, like he’s about to steer me out of the house, and I resist, trying to pull out of his grip, but he’s surprisingly strong.
“Tim, no—” I jerk my arm extra hard, shocked when his hand falls away from me and I’m about to chew him out when I hear another familiar voice. One that fills me with dread.
“Is there a problem?”
My heart drops into my stomach and I close my eyes for a moment when I realize how close he is to us. To me. August.
Great.