Page 26 of Hot Receiver

His eyes widen. “I guess you’re the expert in knowing when things are about to go up in smoke.”

I press my fingers against my temples, Summer’s tear-streaked face flashing in front of my eyes. “I know better than anyone how fast that can happen.”

“Yeah, you’re the expert. And this time you’re using Anna Taylor as a way to take focus off yourself. Always using someone. Smoke and mirrors. Anything to keep attention off of who you really are, the person you hide from the world. It’s got to be fucking exhausting to lie all the time about who you reallyare, what you’ve done to get what you want, and who you’ve hurt in the process.”

“I think it’s you who’s the liar. Because for someone who claims to hate me, you sure as hell find enough ways to corner me. So, it’s time to shit or get off the pot, Zak. Punch me,” I growl through gritted teeth. “Or fucking kiss me because we both know you want to.”

Chapter 12

Zak

Asurge of electricity blasts through me and shoots down my right arm. The crackle is so intense, it hurts. My arm operates as if it’s separate from my body, no longer controlled by my mind. When my fist connects with Matt’s jaw, fierce tingles shuttle down my spine.

He stumbles backward, more from shock than the impact of my punch. Yes, I played football, but it was a long time ago, and even though I work out religiously, I’m in nowhere near the kind of shape Matt’s in.

Raising a hand to his bright red cheek, he grunts and fires a glare at me.

I don’t bother to hide my smirk.

Pretty boy’s face ain’t gonna look so pretty in a few minutes when the rapidly forming blue-black bruise covers half of it.

I marked him.

Fuck him for challenging me.

“You hit me,” he sneers.

“Observant. Good to know the shot didn’t mess with yourbrain.” The corners of my lips curl upward. “Fuck, that felt good. I’ve wanted to do it for so damn long.”

He pulls his hand away from his face and straightens up. I shudder from the burn of the flames shooting from his blue eyes. The heat radiates deep inside of me, coiling in my gut as his eyes rake over the length of my body like they want to dismember and decimate me.

Goosebumps shoot up my arms and down my legs under his heavy stare, the pain in my relatively unused fist blunted by the rush of desire flooding my mind.

I wanted to hit him so goddamn badly. For years, I imagined pummeling his ass into the ground.

I just didn’t expect it’d be such a turn-on to see him bent over afterward.

Brings back memories…

“What the hell is the matter with you? I just saved your ass back there, you ungrateful prick.”

“You want me to melt at your feet? Thank you for saving me…again?” My voice tightens. “You owe me, asshole. You owe me big for keeping my mouth shut about you.”

I wanted to have faith in him. I wanted him to do the right thing, to prove to me that I was more than just a fling because he’d reached me on a level I didn’t even realize I had. Instead, he stayed silent. I wore the scarlet letter, and he got off scot-free, fucking women two at a time to keep attention off him.

He said it’d blow over, that the guys would focus on something else soon enough, that it wouldn’t break us.

Liar. Dirty fuckingliar.

I kept his secret, not because I was in love with him, but because I thought I was strong enough to handle whatever the guys threw at me. I didn’t realize that the cuts would be so deep, I’d never recover from the gaping wounds their tormentleft. Sure, my leg healed. But the gashes in my soul can never be stitched back together.

Conflict assaults my mind, hatred and disgust festering inside of me, my shoulders quaking from the rage that threatens to ravage anyone in my direct path.

And right now, that’d be the gorgeous, bruised man standing in front of me.

My pulse jumps, white noise drowning out all the reasonable and rational protests that my mind screams at me to step back, run back up the stairs, and get the hell away from the stadium, and most importantly, from Matt Harrison.

But his net is wrapped tight around me, and I have no way to pry myself out of it.

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