I lock my door and drop his shirt on my dresser. I venture closer. Somewhere between the beginning of the school year and now—only two months, if that—I stopped being afraid of him. I step between his legs, putting my hands on his shoulders. His eyes are level with my breasts, and he looks at them before tipping his head back and meeting my stare.
“Take my shirt off,” I whisper.
His hands are cold against my skin, lifting the hem of my shirt. He pulls it off me in one fluid motion, ruffling my hair as it drops.
My bra falls, too. My nipples stiffen under his hot stare. His hand between my shoulder blades keeps me from jerking back as his thumb skates over my nipple. He focuses on the other one, leaning forward and flicking it with his tongue.
I groan.
“Does that hurt?” His thumb is still making lazy circles on my skin.
“I like it when it hurts.” The words slip out before I can stop them. I’d be mortified if I wasn’t enthralled with the way Caleb is touching me.
His eyes narrow. “Be specific.”
A shiver racks up my body.
His palm flattens against my stomach.
It’s a light touch, but my breath catches.
“This?”
I shake my head.
His hand goes down, slipping into my panties. He presses on my clit, and my lips part. His lips tip up in a smirk at my reaction. One finger slides inside me.
“This?”
I put my hands back on his shoulders, if only to make sure I remain upright.
“Caleb—”
“I asked you a question, love.” His finger pushes in and out of me.
I can’t do much standing in front of him. One of his hands is on my back; one causes chaos inside me. His nail scrapes along my clit.
I shudder.
If I admit it, he might stop. This is just to prove a point, after all.
Three fingers.
His fingers curl inside me. I groan at the new feeling, widening my stance. I close my eyes.
Mistake.
His teeth are on my skin, biting my breast. He doesn’t do anything to soothe me. It’s just a trail along my chest, little spikes of pain. It’s maddening.
“You’re fucking soaked,” he whispers. His eyes are impossibly dark. “You get wetter each time I do something to your body. So I guess that answers my question.”
I whimper when he pulls out.
“The doctor said no strenuous activities.” He smirks at me.
Bastard.
I grip his shoulders tighter and lower myself onto his lap. His erection brushes my thigh.
“Do you care what the doctor said?” Need and desire overrule common sense.
“I care about you being well enough to fuck you all night long after the ball,” he replies.
My core tightens.
“Like that idea, do you?”
“I—”
“Lie down.”
I do, shimmying off his lap and stretching flat on my mattress behind him. He twists on the bed and sprawls out next to me, so we’re arm to arm. He draws the blanket up over us and rolls onto his side.
He watches me.
“Sleep,” he says.
I sigh, trying to ignore the throbbing desire in my core. I could be petulant and throw a fit. Reach down and finish off the job myself—a scary proposition with Caleb right beside me. Beg him some more.
Yet, I doubt any of that would work.
I point to the shirt I had dropped. “Can I have that?”
He retrieves it for me, helping me sit up enough to slide it over my head and down my back.
I flop backward.
It’s been a day.
“Thank you,” I mumble.
“For what?”
“Chasing away my nightmares.”
He leans forward and kisses my forehead. “Any time. Sleep now, love.”
30
Caleb
No one talks to me in the courtyard. Going to school when Margo is lying at home, hurt, just sets my teeth on edge. Theo, Liam, and Eli create a buffer. The doors open, and we walk down the hall, and they run impeccable defense.
I’m not sure what it is about us that attracts girls like bees to honey. The metaphor should be the other way around: we’re the ones who sting, not them.
Eli heads off Amelie, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her away.
If I find Ian, I’m going to beat his fucking head in. I’ve already done it once this semester. Already got in trouble for it, too. The principal gave me a stern talking-to about how I couldn’t touch a hair on his pretty little head… but I’m not against ulterior strategies.
Theo glances at me out of the corner of his eye. He’s the darkest fucker I know. It isn’t a surprise that he can tell I’m boiling on the inside. It’s why we’re friends—there’s a madness in him, too.
We file into homeroom, and I nod at him. Ian is leaning against Amelie’s desk. He doesn’t so much as look up as we enter.
Waiting for homeroom to end is torture. Each tick of the second hand buries itself in my eardrums.
Finally, it’s over.
Liam grins at Eli. “Race you.”
They bolt toward the door, and Liam’s foot catches Ian’s bag. Ian scowls, then collects his things. Theo and I linger and exit the room just after of him. We follow him toward his next class, and I look over at Theo.
“You ready?” he asks.
I roll my shoulders.
Liam and Eli are coming back toward us.
The bell rings, making the five of us officially late.
Ian raises his hand toward my friends, and they stop in front of him.
“Thanks for making me late, dick,” Ian says to Liam.
Liam shrugs. “All part of the plan.”
Ian shakes his head. “What?”
“Our plan,” I say.
Ian spins around. “You so much as touch me—”
“You’re coming with us,” Theo says. He crowds Ian’s space. They’re friendly on a good day, but today… today isn’t a good day.
For any of us.
As much as it pains me to admit it, my friends have gotten attached to Margo. And that means they’re in this with me.
Ian holds up his hands in defeat.
Eli leads us through the courtyard, into the green house. Liam and Theo follow right behind Ian, and I slow my pace. I clench my jaw. This isn’t about violence—this is about scaring the shit out of him so he never so much as thinks about Margo the wrong way.
I walk in. Eli and Liam grab Ian, hauling him against the wall.
Theo paces in front of him.
“Just fucking hit me already, Alistair,” Ian taunts. “We all know you’re smitten with the Page girl—”
Theo slams his fist into Ian’s stomach. Ian grunts, lurching forward. Eli and Liam hold him upright.
I sigh.
“Fuck—”
Theo punches him in the jaw. “Shut. Up.”