Page 22 of Deceit & Destruction

I point to the screen.

“There,” I say, smugly, my eyes drifting down to her. She doesn’t look at the screen, though. Her gaze is locked on my abs. I toy with the idea of teasing her—of asking her if she likes what she sees—but I decide against it.

Instead I bring my good hand to her chin. Cupping it, I force her to tilt her head back and those blue eyes of hers find mine. I expected them to be wide with surprise. I expected her cheeks to flush.

I got neither.

“What are you looking at?” I growl.

“You.”

That one word is all it takes for me to snap and before I can think better of it, I release her chin, push my fingers through her hair and cup the back of her head. Bending at the knees, I bring myself level with her and my mouth crashes over hers.

Just one taste.

That’s what I tell myself as my tongue sneaks out of my mouth and runs along the seam of her lips.

One taste and I’ll be good.

Cassie parts her lips, and my tongue slides over hers.

And I realize I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.

One taste is not enough.

Chapter Seven

Cassie Phillips

It was a mistake.

That’s what Mike said when he tore his lips away from mine. Of course it was, no guy would want to kiss a girl who is pregnant with her professor’s baby.

That doesn’t mean it didn’t sting.

I fled Mike’s room like I was on fire. What made matters worse is that he didn’t come after me, he just let me go.

The next morning, Webber and I were having breakfast, and Mike came out of his room acting like nothing had happened. I tried to act like I wasn’t bothered by the way he dismissed our kiss—like I didn’t cry myself to sleep that night—but I did a poor job. I couldn’t even look at Mike, not without remembering how it felt to have his lips on me, and those memories only fueled my anger because I wanted more.

It’s true what they say—the second trimester marks the return of a woman’s sex drive and mine was raring to go.

Webber sensed something was wrong too.

“What’s going on with you two?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I replied.

But at the same time Mike said, “I kissed her.”

Poor Webber.

He spilled his Cheerios all over his lap.

Mike shrugged his shoulders and took the cereal box from him.

“I told her it was a mistake, but it wasn’t. If we’re going to make it believable, we need to kiss each other and hold hands—do all that shit.”

“What exactly is all that shit?” Webber asked.

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