Chapter Thirty
Lilac
I stride toward the library across the empty campus, bundling myself up in my jacket.
I’m avoiding Irvin like the plague. For the last few days, I’ve made sure to leave for class early and get home late at night.
After our encounter in his office, I don’t want another moment of being seduced.
He knows my body inside and out, so he knows exactly what to do to get me hot and horny.
He’s been making me feel all sorts of things ever since he tricked me into marrying him—forced this life on me.
Rumors are spreading like wildfire about Winter’s attack. Students are afraid to be on campus alone. Two of my college professors even switched their classes to online-only.
I went by the hospital to visit her, and she’s still in a coma.
Lyrical won’t stop crying, and I’ve been in a slump about it.
I’m at a point in my life where I don’t know what’s real—the text message, the locket…
Most days, I feel as if I’m losing my mind.
Other days, I just want to crawl into a hole and cry.
I open the fiberglass door to the library, and heated air greets me, warming my cheeks.
I love libraries, especially the one on campus.
The lights are dim, the wallpaper is covered with words in Latin, and it’s quiet—not the creepy kind, but the welcoming kind.
It warms my heart every time I step inside.
I sit at one of the wooden tables and wait for Jameson. I need to pick his brain about Irvin.
Speaking of the devil, Jameson towers over me. His hair is dyed inky black, cut close to his scalp. He wears an expensive suit. He’s the leanest of all his friends. He smells good—cinnamon mixed with nutmeg.
He flashes a food bag from a burger joint in town, then sits across from me, sliding a takeout box toward me while unwrapping his chicken sandwich and fries.
I cock my eyebrow. “Do you know there’s a rule about no eating in the library?”
“My father donates a shit ton of money to this university,” he says between bites. “I can eat wherever the fuck I want. Eat your food, beauty. Your food’s going to get cold.”
He’s just as bossy as Irvin. I roll my eyes and sink my teeth into a huge chunk of the juicy burger. The cheese melts in my mouth.
He wipes his hands on a napkin. “You wanted to see me, beauty?”
I nod. “Does Irvin know we’re meeting?”
He shakes his head. “No. As long as you’re not trying to fuck me, he doesn’t need to know we’re hanging out.
” His eyes flick to mine, dark with lust. “Unless you want to—then I’ll have to turn you down.
” His gaze lands on my blouse, and he licks the corner of his mouth.
“You’re tempting, though. But bros before hoes. ”
I roll my eyes. “You know if I weren’t married to Irvin, we wouldn’t work.”
He straightens his spine. “You don’t know that, Lilac. You turned me down last year, remember?”
I remember. He asked me to fuck a few times.
Followed me around campus wearing a mask.
I’m not going to lie—it was hot. I’m into mask play.
But I wasn’t going to fuck him and his friend.
That’s whorish… well, maybe not. The thought of fucking them both makes my face flush.
But Irvin wouldn’t go for that. I’m sure he wouldn’t go for a threesome either.
Now that he’s engaged to Raven—and we’re not close friends but the idea is out the window.
I technically chose Irvin over Jameson. I wanted Irvin last year, which is why I pursued him.
I smile. “I’m aware. Did I bruise your ego?”
After he finishes his sandwich, he places his hand on his chest, chuckling. “Yes, I’m still deeply wounded. How would I move on?”
“You’ll live.” I smile.
He clears his throat. “So, what do you need, beauty?”
“I don’t think Raven will appreciate you calling me beauty.”
“Who the fuck cares what my butterfly says?”
I pop a fry into my mouth. “You moved to cute pet names? I thought you hated her.”
He pauses, folding his arms across his chest. “I can’t simply move on with my life because I’m stuck on Bailey.”
I frown. “How can you be stuck on someone you’ve never been with?”
He tilts his head to the side. “Who said I was never with Bailey?”
I tap my finger against my chin. “Well, from what I heard, she was dating a college professor.”
He balls his fist. “I’m well aware, but we did have a relationship before the piece of shit.” He shakes his head. “Enough about that. Why did you ask me here?”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “I want intel on Irvin. Since you didn’t tell anyone about your relationship with Bailey, I won’t blackmail you with it. I won’t go to Snow about what you disclosed.”
He laughs like a hyena. “How do you know that Snow doesn’t know?”
I eye him up and down. “You’re still standing here.”
He drums his fingers on the table. “Irvin is rubbing off on you. Manipulation isn’t your finest suit, though. You need to step your game up. What do you want to know about him?”
Yeah, right, I know I’m nothing like that bastard.
I smile. “What’s his weakness?”
He crinkles his nose. “Weakness?”
I nod, tapping my foot on the carpet. My eyes track a student peeking at the romance aisle.
“What can I use against him? To hurt him. Talk now, or I’ll call Snow.”
He chuckles. “How can you not see what his weakness is?”
“What do you mean?”
He gets up from the desk, pushes his chair in, and stuffs our wrappers into the food bag.
“Go look in the mirror. You’ll see his weakness, beauty.
” He leans down, removing a hair from my face.
“You didn’t have to so-called blackmail me.
I would have given you the information anyway.
” His voice tickles my ear, and my cheeks warm.
“FYI, you’re right—we wouldn’t work in a relationship because if you were mine, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight.
You’d be locked up in my mansion, serving me as my whore.
I have more respect for you than to make you a sex doll.
” He winks and heads toward the double doors.
My chest flutters. I exhale. That was… intense.
I shake my head, gather my belongings, and head home.
Once inside, I set my book bag on the floor, exhaling as I walk into the kitchen where the chef is cooking. I open the fridge, grab a grapefruit-flavored drink, and down it straight from the carton. The chef frowns at me and then turns back to the stove.
Irvin walks into the kitchen with blood on his hands.
“Where are you coming from?” I ask.
“A fight broke out at Keanu’s place,” he answers.
I follow him to the bedroom—bad idea. I should stay away from him, but after what Jameson said, I’m going to use the power I have over Irvin against him.
Maybe he’s right—maybe I am his weakness.
But how would I do that? My attempt at manipulation isn’t clearly working on Irvin. He knows my moves and outmaneuvers me.
I should have gotten more information out of Jameson.
Irvin removes his bloody clothes, then goes into the bathroom, and I hear the shower running.
Thirty minutes later, he comes back in a pair of boxers and stares at me like I’m his prey, ready to devour me.
He pours himself a glass of bourbon from the minibar he installed not too long ago, drinks slowly, then sets it down on the table. I try not to let his gaze affect me.
He corners me on the bed, stroking my cheeks. I smell the sweet, burning liquor on his breath. He lifts my shirt, removes my silk bra, and stares at my breasts, his breath hitching.
My cheeks flush. Why don’t I stop him?
The bastard grins, kisses my temple, then my forehead. “Now that you found out you’re my weakness, what do you plan on doing with the information, my princess?”
I step back, knitting my eyebrows together. “That loudmouth told you I saw him.”
He shrugs. “Of course he told me.”
He rests both hands on the wall above my head, caging me in. Heat blooms beneath my skin, tingling with awareness. It would be so much better if I hadn’t already fucked him. I straighten my spine.
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want you?”
He places his hands on my breasts. “You know you want my dick inside you, stretching you.”
My core tingles, and my nipples harden. But I shake my head.
I should feel disgusted by him, yet I’m not. Instead, I lean into his touch. He picks me up, lays me on the bed, removes my panties, and slides his fingers inside me.
I feel my core squeeze around his digits and suck in a breath.
He places a finger on my clit. My breath hitches. “The way your body responds to me—you love it. Your body is begging to be worshipped by me.”
I try to push back with my elbow, but he wraps his free arm around my waist, securing me in place.
“It’s normal to react to pleasure. No big deal. Even victims respond to the pleasure of their rapist,” I snap.
“So I’m your rapist now?”
No. I want you touching me all the time. More than you know. I crave you even when I hate you.
“Move, Irvin. I need to study for my neuropsychology class.”
He wraps his hands around my throat, squeezing—not enough to choke me.
Why do I like this? Why do I want his hands around my neck? I shouldn’t want him. He’s my enemy.
Disgust and shame overtake my body.
I watch him slowly stroke his dick. He aligns himself with my folds and shoves forward, sliding inside me. He feels so good, stretching me, with a mix of pain because of his size.
He places his hands over my mouth.
“I want you to hear the sound of me fucking you, my princess. Do you hear that? It’s your pussy wanting me.”
The soft sounds of my moans fill the room as he fucks me hard against the mattress. I clench around him. He feels so good.
“It’s you wanting me to take you even though you keep fighting with yourself.”
He’s right. Absolutely right.
Several seconds later, he pulls out, comes all over my stomach, then gets down on his knees and licks my clit until I’m screaming his name. My orgasm shoots through me.
“Be in denial all you want, my princess, but it won’t help either of our relationship.”
My jaw tightens, and I avoid eye contact. I fiddle with my wedding band, choking the shit out of my finger. I hate that he’s right again. I do like the way he fucks me, but no—he will not win. I’m still in control even though he just won the battle.
Because I’m going to win the war.