Page 3 of Tell Me Why
I can’t help the disgusted scoff that escapes my mouth. “What, just because I’m not falling all over myself to talk to you, I’m lying? Is that it?”
“Exactly,” he says with another laugh, his hand moving upward, cupping my breast through the thick fabric of my hoodie. “Makes me wonder what you’re hiding.”
When he squeezes my breast, that’s it, I fucking snap. “Get the fuck off me!” I yell, burying my knee in his crotch with a strength I don’t normally have.
He stumbles back—and for a split second, there’s a flash of shock on his face. But it’s quickly replaced with anger.Realanger. Before I can get away, he rushes me and slams my back against the wall.
All the air is pushed out of my lungs, and I gasp.Holy shit.I suck in a gulp of air and before I can even fight back, he’s grabbing my face, pushing my head against the wall. “That wasn’t nice,” he says through gritted teeth, his mouth hovering over mine. “You should apologize.”
He’s gripping my jaw so tightly, it’s making my eyes water. And the really fucked up part? I can hear voices approaching, which means people areseeinghim do this to me, and doing nothing to stop it.
Fucking sheep.
“Fuck. You,” I say, slightly slurred due to the limited movement of my jaw.
A sound rumbles deep in his chest, like a growl. I’m sure he doesn’t like being challenged—especially by some “random chick,” as he put it. But he can seriously fuck himself. There’s no way I’m apologizing to him—especially now.
With a chuckle, he pushes his free hand down the waistband of my leggings. I squirm and try to push him off me, but he’s far too strong. In seconds, his warm fingers breach my panties and the patch of curls shielding my entrance. One digit dips between my pussy lips, and enters me forcefully.
I suck in a sharp breath and rise up onto the tips of my toes. “You fucking asshole,” I choke out. The hand holding my face tightens as his other hand explores me.
“Mmmm,” he intones, pulling my face up, he brushes the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. “Well, well. You’re drenched.”
He pushes his finger in deeper, and a shock of something rushes through me. If I weren’t so disgusted, I might mistake the shiver that rolls through my body as pleasure. But that’s not possible. Not with a monster like Christian West.
Swallowing, I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to think about something boring, like math—anything to stop my body from reacting to his touch.
What’s the square root of twenty-four?
“You like that, don’t you?” he chuckles, tilting his head to the side, and drawing in a sharp breath. Like he’ssmellingme. “You can pretend you don’t, but all you girls are the same. One flick of your clit, and you’re putty in my hands.”
I don’t consider myself a violent person, but I’ve never wanted to murder someone so much. I didn’t ask for this. There are half a dozen girls in Professor Cannon’s class alone who would give their left tit for a sideward glance from Christian, but not me. That’s never been me.
“I swear to God,” I say through gritted teeth, “I’m going to kill you for this.”
It’s a bold claim. Christian West is one of the most powerful guys on campus. He has money. Influence. Resources. He could do whatever the fuck he wants, and no one would even bat an eye…
But I’m not just some random girl from a normal, middle-class family. I know how to exploit my enemy’s weakness, and Christian’s weakness is as clear as glass. He’s so fucking cocky, I’m surprised his massive ego made it through the door.
He ignores my comment as he readjusts his hand inside my leggings, so he can use his thumb to brush over my clit.Goddamn. Electricity zips through my veins, and I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from moaning.
It’s not him, though. This reaction has nothing to do with how he touches me. It’s been too long since I’ve been fucked properly. Of course, my body is responding to the only guy who’s touched me like thisin months. I’m only human.
His left hand is still holding my face, so when I try to bite him, he’s able to prevent me from making contact with his cheek.
“Ah-ah,” he says. “I like it rough, but no leaving marks. That’s against the rules.”
His casual, amused attitude pisses me off more than anything. More than him trapping me, more than him invading my body, taking something he has no right to. Anger, frustration, and disgust all erupt inside me at once, and I scream as loud as I possibly can, right in his face, the sound grating painfully across my vocal cords.
With his hand still on my face, he uses his forefinger and thumb to pinch my lips together and stop my screaming.
I expect him to be angry. Instead, he smiles down at me, curiosity flashing in his eyes. And if I’m being honest, that is more terrifying than his anger. I’d rather deal with his rage. I know what to do with that. I have plenty of experience dealing with enraged men. But the spark of interest I see in his cold blue eyes snakes down my spine and makes me shudder.
His hand is still buried inside me when he asks, “Who the fuck are you?”
I shake my head, and he releases my mouth just enough for me to speak. “I’m no one,” I answer.
He pulls back a little and looks at me with fascination, like I’m some kind of insect he’s caught in a jar. “Tell me your name.”
