Page 75 of Defend Me

“Of course you are,” I snapped. “You want my time, my affection, my fucking pain. I don’t want this.”

“Prove it.”

What the fuck was he on today? Maybe I really had read him wrong. He was timid, but it wasn’t that he was incapable of being forward. Did he just want to go unnoticed? Was it a conscious effort? Clearly, he would go after what he wanted when he set his mind to it. Relentlessly, even.

This was dangerous and I should’ve taken it more seriously.

He reached up and tugged on my hair tie. When he pulled it free, my curls fell over my shoulders. I knew it probably looked wild and messy, but he ran his fingers through the strands reverently.

I pressed my forehead against his. For a moment, we simply breathed each other’s air as he continued to push both of his hands through my hair.

“I swear to god, Tilian… Do not fall for me. I’ll fuck up that beautiful heart and leave you in ruins.”

“I’m tougher than you think.”

“You are, aren’t you?” I mused slowly.

Against all of my better judgment, I tightened my fingers around his throat at the same moment that I let myself finally kiss him.

If he hadn’t been so willing to push his own boundaries today, we probably would’ve been fine. Now, with his lips on mine, things werenotfine.

I should’ve just stayed home. Even as I thought that, though, I couldn’t regret the decisions that had brought me here. He tasted so fucking sweet and he was completely compliant beneath my touch. I bet I could ask him for whatever I wanted and he’d give it to me.

When he tried to step closer, I thrust him more firmly against the wall. A delicious moan fell from his lips, all but forcing me to deepen the kiss. It was the same sound that kept me attached to him the first time we did this, even though I’d meant it to be simple and quick.

I pressed my body against his and committed every curve of it to memory. He wasn’t small, but he had the perfect build that felt like it molded to me. When I moved my hips forward, he dropped one of his hands from my hair gripped my side. I could feel his dick against my thigh, which nearly made me abandon every carefully controlled mechanism I’d built inside of myself.

When he bit down on my lip, it both turned me on and drew me back to reality. I pulled back and put my fingers over my lips, cursing myself for getting so lost in him.

I released his throat and grabbed his wrist to pull his hand from my hip. My hair tie was on the floor, so I crouched to grab it, then tied it back again. With my gaze locked on his reddened lips, I took a step back.

“Don’t leave,” he said softly.

“Skates. And pizza. I promised them that.”

Without another word, I left him there. As soon as it wouldn’t be rude to leave, I’d be out of this place. I needed some distance. Whatever he’d injected that kiss with was lethal. I wanted no part of it. I couldn’t afford to care, especially not right now.

Chapter 22

Tilian

I wasn’t surprised that Brooks was exciting and fun at the rink. He raced Alex, only beating him one time, which I was pretty sure had been orchestrated. It looked like he’d been holding himself back until that point. My brother was smiling and laughing, so I found it hard to be upset with Brooks, even though I was.

I knew he didn’t want a relationship. That was fine with me. It was the way he kept going back and forth. He was hot and cold, up and down. I wanted to understand him, but that felt like a dangerous game if I was going to keep things casual.

Casual might not be an option anymore. He’d kissed me even more viciously than he had in my room. Then, he completely disconnected. I didn’t know what he wanted.

Should I just stop trying? If he didn’t want anything beyond sex, it seemed dumb to pursue him when he was obviously trying to keep me at arm’s length.

It would be best if I let that part of our relationship fizzle out. Realistically, it was no skin off my back. He was just one guy. Even though I was incredibly attracted to him, physically and emotionally, I was okay with just being platonic. I was used to it anyway.

“I like him,” Miranda said, scooting closer on the bench.

“He’s just a friend.”’

“You look at him like more.”

“Doesn’t matter. I could like him, but I’d rather be his friend.”

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