Page 13 of You Were Never Not Mine

“Prove it.” He sprawls his big body across the couch, spreading his legs and patting his thigh. “Come here.”

“What? No.” I shake my head as he’s reaching for my hand, tugging on it until I have no choice but to practically fall into him. He catches me at the last second, his gaze locking with mine.

“Sit on my lap, Sin.” His smile is devilish. “See if I can tempt you.”

Next thing I know I find myself perched carefully on his hard, muscular thigh, my heart racing, my head spinning. Being this close to him, I can smell his delectable scent. To thepoint that it’s overwhelming me, and not in a bad way. I take in his incredibly smooth skin, the lush curve of his lips, the thick eyelashes that frame his intense, icy blue eyes. He is truly beautiful and the memories come back, one after the other, crowding my brain and reminding me why I hate him.

The taunting sound of his voice. The choice words he used to hurt me. It was like he knew all of my weaknesses and I never understood how he was able to get inside my head like he did. Maybe he had some sort of sixth sense or something, but it was disconcerting how he left me in shambles every time we had an interaction.

I’m in shambles at this very moment but for different reasons. There’s something bubbling between us that I don’t recognize and it scares me. Far worse than his humiliating words and the way he used to laugh at me, always coaxing his friends to join in.

I hate him. Sitting on August Lancaster’s lap is the opportunity that younger me would’ve wished for. It would take nothing for me to grab him by the balls and twist until he screamed in pain. Or I could kick him. That might be easier because I could run right after I did it, reveling in the sound of his agonizing groans the moment my foot made contact with his nuts.

I’ve never done anything like that in my life, but I can envision it and lord help me, it makes me smile.

“You should do that more often,” he murmurs.

I jerk my gaze to his, startled. “Do what?”

“Smile.” He leans in, mouth mere inches from mine. “Are you tempted yet?”

“N-no.” Damn it, my shaky voice just gave me away, because I am tempted. Despite everything, the hate burning in the pit of my stomach, the unease slipping through my blood…

I want to touch him. Just once. Pretend that we don’t have ashared past and just revel in him. Something I’ve never been tempted with before.

“Liar.” The smirk that appears on his face is as infuriating as it is appealing. “I bet I could have you naked and screaming in my bed in the next twenty minutes.”

The vision his words conjure up leaves me feeling sweaty. “Twenty?”

“Okay. Fifteen.” His smile is as cocky as I’ve ever seen it.

“I would never.”

“Oh, but you might.” His hand settles on my cheek, angling my head just so. “It would be good between us.”

I’ve never done anything that he’s referring to so I have no idea if it would be good or not. Sex doesn’t interest me because it involves feelings and feelings are messy. Watching my mother weep in despair after discovering another one of my father’s affairs has turned me off of love completely. It doesn’t exist. Why bother?

“You don’t know that for sure,” I whisper because it’s like my voice has disappeared, and I don’t know where it went. When he threads his fingers into my hair, slightly tugging on the strands, I close my eyes for a moment and enjoy the way he’s touching me. Soft yet rough. The contradiction is alluring.

Tempting.

“I can just tell. Can’t you?” His lips brush mine in the briefest of kisses. There and gone in an instant but leaving an imprint on my fucking soul if I’m being truthful. My entire body tingles at the short contact, leaving me a quivering mess.

As if he can sense my giving in, he quickly stands, grabbing hold of my hand and keeping me upright and I’m grateful I don’t fall. He doesn’t say a word to me as he yanks me through the crowds of people in the frat house. Just leads me toward the stairwell and practically runs up the stairs, me trailing behind him, our hands still linked, our fingers curled around each other’s. I let him take me down the hall, anticipation buzzingthrough my veins as he whips out a key from his pants pocket when we stop in front of a closed door. He unlocks it and pulls me inside, shutting the door and pushing me against it.

Our mouths clash, a whimper leaving me when his tongue thrusts between my lips, curling around mine. The kiss is hungry and all-consuming and terrifying, and I rest my hands against his broad chest, desperate to stop him so I can escape.

Instead, it’s like my hands have a mind of their own, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer. The moan that ripples through the air startles me, even more so when I realize I’m the one who made the sound. His hands are everywhere, slipping beneath my shirt, his assured fingers drifting across my bare skin and oh God, I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.

Only to realize it’s my tormentor who’s making me feel this way.

The clarity hits me like someone punched me in the face.What the hell am I doing, letting August touch me like this? Kiss me like this?

I push him off of me with a strength I didn’t know I had. He stumbles backward, glaring at me. His chest rises and falls at a rapid pace and his lips are damp and swollen from kissing me. I’m filled with the sudden urge to grab hold of him and beg him to do it again but I can’t. I won’t. I need to take control of this situation.

And get the hell out of here.

“Let’s try this…” I clear my throat, trying to channel my inner seductress who’s never come out to play before. “In your bed.”

---