Page 88 of If You Dare

His breath curls around my neck, my ear. “And that wasverystupid of you. Guess you don’t know who my father is. Hard to kick out the hockey player whose father funds the team. Even harder for them to pin anything on me when they couldn’t find any evidence. I’m not going anywhere.”

I twist and squirm to get away from him, away from the hand crushing my throat, but then I feel that familiar kiss of the blade against my thigh.

I freeze.

“That’s a good little girl.” His murmur makes me want to puke. “I think it’s time I fulfill that promise I made to you last time.”

Fuck.No, no, no—

Trey tips the handle of the knife, rubbing it over my panties against my clit. I hiss through my teeth and slam my eyes shut, trying to block out the feeling and his leering gaze.

“Fuck,” he groans. “That’s so hot. If you start crying, I’ll have to fuck you with it.”

The handle travels lower, pushing aside my panties.

My knees turn to jelly. “Don’t,” I whisper. “Please—”

Headlights sweep over us, a car passing by, but it’s enough to make Trey withdraw. The handle of the knife disappears from between my legs and cool air washes over me, replacing the hot touch of Trey’s hand on me and his body looming over mine.

I gasp like a fish out of water, clutching my throat, still throbbing with the pain of being choked.

He’s halfway across the parking lot by the time I’m scrambling to slide my jeans back on my shaky legs, but his sinister promise still reaches me. “Until next time, pretty girl.”

* * *

During my nextnight at the library, I text Wes.

Can you walk me home after my shift?

Be right there.

As soon as my shift is over, I stuff my laptop and books in my bag, turn off all the lights, and hurry out of the building.

Wes is waiting directly in front of the doors in jeans, combat boots, and his team jacket. When he turns and sees me, he smiles.

A smile that stops my heart.

He holds out his hand and threads his fingers through mine. “You look beautiful, little flower.”

I manage a weak smile in return. Since Trey took those photos of me in my underwear and nearly fucked me with the handle of his knife, I’ve been longing to tell Wes about what happened. But if Trey hurts him because of me, because I told Wes when Trey warned me not to, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

I can’t lose Wes too. Not again. I won’t.

He leads the way through the empty parking lot. When we reach his car, he pins me against it with his hips, threading his hands in my hair and pulling my body flush against his. He presses his lips to mine, slipping his tongue in my mouth and making my breath catch.

“What you said last time,” I breathe, the impending admission making my heart palpitate. “In the pool. I’m falling in love with you too.”

He shakes his head. “Not sure how you can say that when I was such a dick to you.”

“Because if the roles were reversed, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“No. You wouldn’t have.” He brushes a kiss as delicate as a butterfly’s wing against my lips before pulling open the back door of his car.

“You don’t want me sitting up front with you?”

“I would if I was sitting up front. Get in, baby.”

At the delicious command, my thighs clench, and I do as I’m told.

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