Page 38 of Wicked Surrender

I stared at the long, silky, black locks, wanting to wrap them around my fist and tug her closer until she sucked my dick.

I gazed at her lips, closed and nervous, as I thought about kissing her and nipping until I tasted blood.

I lowered my eyes until I watched the pulse point in her neck, fantasizing about grabbing her by the neck and pounding?—

Fuck.

I gritted my teeth.

I couldn’t want her when she was associated with the man who’d ruined my brother’s life.

But I did.

“How come you didn’t share that video?” she asked as a greeting.

It was bold of her to ask. But I refused to be impressed by her courage. Not now. Not when I wanted to both fuck and hurt her.

“Yet,” I snapped. “Don’t think I won’t.”

She licked her lower lip as she dropped her gaze. Fuck, if that didn’t wake up my dick faster.

“I… know you will,” she admitted, clearly noticing how much anger and wrath lurked beneath the surface.

“Don’t think for one fucking second that it wouldn’t make my day to see you cry.”

She lifted her face to narrow her eyes at me, sharpening the bright green that sparkled with hurt and a little bit of worry.

Dammit. Don’t fucking look at me like that.

I wanted her to be worried about mehurtingher.

I couldn’t stand her looking worriedaboutme, as if she noted my anger and wanted a solution to help me out of it.

Having her concerned about me and expressing pity, of all fucking things, was not happening. Not tonight. Not ever.

13

LAURA

With the exception of the last time I tutored Jason, when he whispered filthy things in my ear, he scowled at me. His scowls. His glares. All those frowns and mocking smirks.

I was used to those. He was consistent in letting me know that he loathed me.

This deep-seated hatred he didn’t mask for me tonight was something new. It was something so different and starkly malicious that I didn’t know how to regard him.

He said he wanted to make me cry. To hurt me. I didn’t doubt it. That was why I knew he’d share that video.

But I couldn’t understand why.

What was in it for him?

Why me?

The questions plagued me as I tried to summon the courage to just start this session, banking on him to not show any participation or give a damn. He showed up almost to spite me, just to prove he was here, even if he did nothing and didn’t listen to me.

But something felt different tonight, almost like he wasn’t sure how to regard me or what to do with me.

“Okay. Then, on to trig again.” I lowered my gaze and began to go over the material. Lecturing wasn’t the goal here. I was no expert in education, but tutoring wasn’t supposed to be one person talking like a mini lecture while the other sat there. It was supposed to be glorified homework help, demonstrating how to solve problems and then working on them together.

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