Page 10 of The Consequence of You
Because I left the lecture early, the halls are deserted as I make my way to the exit. Halfway down the corridor, an unmistakable figure comes out of the private study areas. Bumping into Callie twice in one day. What are the chances? If I needed the money I might be tempted to buy a lottery ticket.
Jogging to catch her up, I make it until I’m right behind her without her noticing. No wonder she didn’t hear me, she has earbuds in. Has she no clue about protecting her personal safety? Any kind of psycho could be walking behind her. Her hair is tied up in a cute ponytail. I tug the end of the black ribbon and whip it away. Juvenile I know.
She spins on her heel and fixes me with a glare so toxic, I swear it could kill a weaker person than me. She parks her hand on her cocked hip, indignation on her face.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ASHER
“Give it back,” she demands, sticking out her hand, but my only response is to bark out a laugh.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her silky black ribbon is soft in my hand, but I shoved it in my pocket so quickly she can’t see it. Still, there is no one else here who could have taken it. I ignore her plea and rub it between my fingers, there’s something so intrinsically sensual about the feel of the fabric. An image of her in black lingerie, her hands bound with this exact ribbon, appears in my mind.
Fuck, that’s hot.
My dick twitches as her scowl intensifies.
“How old are you, Asher? Stealing a girl’s hair ribbon not a little immature?”
She’s not wrong, but I can’t bring myself to back down. Something about how she looks so pissedoff, pleases me. Intrigues me even. I can’t explain it. This stupid standoff in the corridor makes me feel alive, and I don’t want it to end.
She lowers her hand, and for a split second I’m disappointed, thinking she’s given in so easily. But then she drops her satchel to the floor, and she grabs my wrist. I almost laugh. It would take little to no effort for me to wriggle out of her hold, but I don’t. Instead, I humour her, preferring to wait to see how she thinks this will play out.
Her grip tightens and I cock a brow, inviting her next move. But within seconds, she performs some kind of voodoo, pressing her thumb hard into a pressure point I didn’t realise I had, as she twists my wrist firmly at the same time as shoving me into the lockers. I cry out and she has me falling to my knees in agony as a sharp pain shoots up my arm.
“Fuck, princess. I surrender, I fucking surrender!”
She loosens her hold slightly. It’s enough to stop the sharp jabbing sensation, but I’m under no illusions she still has all the control. I stay on my knees, looking up at her, and this time it’s her who cocks a brow. Maybe I’m a masochist because most sensible people would be returning her ribbon and getting the hell out of Dodge, but all I can think about is the fact I’m at eye level with her pussy.
Smirking, I lick my lips and lower my gaze to her crotch, but she quickly realises and re-tightens her grip. Before I can even catch my breath, I’m crying out again, begging for a reprieve. “Argh. Jesus Christ. Stop! You’re going to break my wrist.” She yanks me up by my arm and then lets go.
“I swear to God, Asher. Give me my ribbon back or I will break both your wrists.” This time, when she asks, Ifish it out of my pocket and hand it over. She snatches it from me and collects her satchel from the floor.
Rubbing at my wrist, I watch her slight form and find myself quietly impressed at how she’d taken me down so easily. It’ll be the last time, mind you. Now I know she has some sort of self-defence training I won’t let her get me in a vulnerable position like that again. Still, she surprised me, and I can count on one hand the number of times that has happened in the past. I have a good read on people, always have. Years of practice, working out what makes a person tick, what they want from me, means I could meet their needs, manipulate them without them ever realising.
I thought I had Calliope Messina all worked out but the more time I spend with her, the more I realise how wrong I was.
CALLIE
The balls on this guy. I silently fume as I collect my satchel from the floor. Well, I showed him. He’s nothing but a spoiled rich kid. Assuming he can have whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. I seem to be the focus of his attention lately, and I can’t quite fathom why.
Straightening up, I study him as he leans against the locker, his crisp white shirt still perfect, not a hair out of place. The dress code at the university is smart casual, yet Asher always dresses like he’s about to be interviewed on national television. The only sign he’s even slightly ruffled are his glasses, which sit slightly askew on his nose. He has no idea, and it makes me irrationally happy. He rubs his wrist, and I almost feel bad. But then I remember he’s an insufferable bastard who’s been on a one-man missionto wind me up lately, and my guilt immediately dissipates.
“Didn’t think you had it in you, Calliope,” he drawls, loosening his tie with his uninjured hand. “Not going to lie, I’d like to see what other tricks you have up your sleeve or if that was just a fluke.” He tilts his head, and I swear I can see the cogs turning.
He’s trying to figure me out like I’ve seen him do with countless people before me.Of course, that’s what this is.He can’t figure me out and he doesn’t like it. Well, tough shit, my life has nothing to do with him.
I don’t bother responding, and turn to walk away, but he grabs the strap of my bag and yanks me backwards. I’m not expecting it, and before I can react, he has me pressed up against the lockers, my front flush against the cool metal. He twists my arms behind me and pushes his whole body against me, so I have no chance of escape. I wriggle and throw my head back, hoping to take him by surprise, but he’s quick to dodge the move, and he chuckles smugly as I fail to escape from his hold.
“That’s what I thought. You watched a couple of YouTube videos and thought that made you an expert. Well, bravo. You got the better of me once, but it’ll be the only time you do.” His voice drops an octave, the rough timbre vibrating through his chest into my back and against my will, my nipples pebble.
Fucking hell body, why are you constantly betraying me when it comes to Asher Pennington? Literally any guy but him. He’s already cocky and self-assured. I will not be responsible for inflating his ego any further.
I wriggle again, and that’s when I feel it. His hard length pressed into my lower back, just above my arse. It’s digging into me, and as I try to move, it just prods meharder. He feels big, and I wince at the thought of the damage that thing could do. Of course, he’s well endowed. The guy oozes big dick energy.
Lifting my foot, I try to stamp down on his, but he pre-empts my move and jams his knee between my legs, pushing my foot away from his. In turn, he leaves his firm thigh wedged against my lady parts. As I struggle to free myself, I inadvertently end up rubbing my pussy against him and a jolt of pleasure shocks me into panting. The disloyal bitch is practically begging to be petted, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Asher growls, and I swear that noise is so primal it could be enough to trigger an orgasm on the other side of campus.
