Page 91 of Fractured Fates
They think that title will give them everything they’ve ever dreamed of. That it’ll lead to some high-society wedding, a mansion in Pale Heights and a pack of sons as gifted as I am.
That’s because their imaginations are about as limited as their intellects.
Spencer slumps out of the locker room, glancing at the girl one more time, and I drop down onto the bench, pretending to tie my shoe laces. Soon the last few guys follow Spencer out and it’s just her and me.
My eyes drag down her body. She’s not as skinny as she was. There’s more meat to her now, more curves. Her cheeks aren’t as hollow and there’s more color to her skin. Peaches and cream. Lips like strawberries. Eyes like caramel.
She’s a sweet fucking feast. I can almost taste her on the end of my tongue.
I soak her in.
I’m not sure she’s even aware I’m still here, still here and watching her, until she says over her shoulder, “Are you going to sit there and glower at me all night?”
I jolt. If she only fucking knew.
“I want to check you’re doing a satisfactory job.”
“I’m not,” she says back. “I’m going to be the worst helping-hand this team has ever had. Expect odd socks and bobbly jock straps. Oh, and I’d be careful getting in and out of the showers. You may find the floor is always slippery.”
Half of me wants to laugh. Instead, I frown.
“Just try it, Pig Girl …” I snarl instead.
She doesn’t even flinch at my tone.
Does she actually know who the fuck I am? Does she know what I’m capable of?
She tugs a towel out of a half-open locker and throws it in the laundry bin, then she spins and faces me.
“Why?” she says.
“Why?” I repeat, my eyebrows rising up my brow.
“Why did you tell the principal I sneaked off campus? Why do you enjoy torturing me?” She cocks her head to one side. “No, don’t answer that. Let me guess. Poor little rich boy. Did your parents not buy you enough ponies? Did they not fly you out on enough exclusive holidays? Did the nanny fail one day to give you her complete and undivided attention?”
This time I can’t keep the smirk from my mouth. “You think I haven’t heard those lines a million times, Little Pig? You think you’re actually being original.”
“Maybe not original, but not wrong either.”
I stand up, drawing myself to my full height and step towards her. I tower above her smaller frame but she doesn’t back away. She lifts her chin defiantly and fuck, I thought I liked my girls all submissive, backing away, doing as I say, whimpering my name, but no, this turns me on a million times more.
This defiance makes me want to push even harder.
“You don’t know the first thing about me, Blackwaters.”
“No, I don’t. Because I don’t come from a world like yours,Kennedy,” she hisses my name, mocking me. “I wasn’t born into a world of privilege and money, I didn’t have everything handed to me on a glittering silver platter. I’ve spent every day scrabbling to survive, something I bet you’ve never had to do.”
To my utter surprise she reaches out and takes my hands in hers. Her touch is electric, awakening every single nerve in my body, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. The hook in my stomach strains towards her. She turns my hands over, revealing my palms.
“I bet you’ve never gotten your hands dirty in your whole entire life,” she says.
I don’t answer her. Instead I stare down at her, my hands in hers. My heart thumps against my ribs. Thumps like it wants to break free and claim her.
I need to get the fuck out of here. Now.
I don’t move.
I can hear the whistle of her breath. See the way her slender shoulders rise and fall. Notice how soft the skin there is.
