Page 137 of Broken by my Bully
“But it is,” I whisper, wanting this conversation to be over, but refusing to give him any ground.
“Not for much longer.”
My breath hitches when he scrapes a finger over the slope of my neck, moving my hair away.
To better see the bruises on my skin?
Or so that he can kiss my neck?
“I’ve called in a favor. Gamma Alpha Zeta has agreed to give you full room and board.”
My hair falls back into place.
I keep my eyes straight ahead, watching Bastian as he leans on his elbows beside me, face turned to me. Scanning my face. Watching my reaction.
“Now if anyone wants to make fun of you, you get to laugh in their face.”
My chest puffs out as I take a full breath. I turn, trying not to lean away, but Bastian is so close it’s like I’m waiting for a kiss.
Maybe I am.
Would I push him away if he tried?
His gaze is so steady on mine it feels like he’s delving into the depths of my rotting soul. And maybe it’s the booze giving me some backbone, but I force myself not to look away.
“I’d rather spit in their eye.”
“Would you?” He takes hold of my chin. “Then show me.”
Bastian’s never looked more commanding. Head tilted back, eyes hooded. So laughably in control, it shocks me that he’s a teacher and not a general in some army.
“What?” I whisper, my brain refusing to process his words.
“Spit.” He swipes his thumb over my bottom lip. “I want to see that fire you’re so proud of.”
I’m frozen. The wine makes everything fuzzy except his eyes.
“That’s what I thought.” He tugs away his hand, but I can still feel the ghost of his touch on my skin, tingling over my lip.
“All bark.” A flicker of a smile. “But we’ll fix that. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll bite exactly when and where I tell you to.”
Haven
Is this what feeling tipsy is like, or am I still reeling from Bastian’s news about the sorority? When I had that tequila at Melissa’s house, I never felt like this. I went straight from normal to drunk. College kids and my family aside, I doubt that’s how alcohol is supposed to be used.
This? This is fantastic.
I’m so happy I can’t stop smiling. My body is relaxed. My mind is relaxed. The constant stream of negative thoughts that normally cycle through my head has run dry.
Fuck meditation. Drink wine.
“How is it?” Bastian asks.
I snap my gaze away from the mesmerizing fireplace, and into his even more entrancing eyes. We’re on the sofa. Me curled up in one corner, him with his legs stretched out on the other.
He seems taken aback by my frown.
“How do you always know what I’m thinking?”
