Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
“Apart from shamelessly mocking one another, Zeph and I don’t exactly do all that much talking.”
“Oh,” he says, a hint of irritation flashing in his eyes and sending off alarm bells inside my head and reminding me where I’d seen his face before. He was the guy sitting next to Zeph in our psychology class, the friend who seemed pissed off that Zeph wasn’t giving him his undivided attention. Perhaps the guy is hot for Zeph. Who knows? Zeph is more than a catch. Any guy or girl would be lucky to have him. “Well, he does plenty of talking, and he said you’re always down.”
My brow arches, and I stare back at the guy, watching as the irritation in his eyes begins morphing into something else entirely—something that has me inching back. “Always down?” I ask, making a mental note to have a little chat with Zeph about what type of information he shares about me. I’m more than used to guys running their mouths, but Zeph didn’t strike me as the kiss-and-tell type. This guy certainly does, though. He seems like a lot of things I have no interest in.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Jordan says, discreetly stepping toward me and tightening the space between us as his gaze sails up and down my body, looking at me like I’m his next meal. “Zeph said you’re a little firecracker. You go off for him, so what do you say? Why don’t you come back to my place, and I’ll put you to work?”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on. Don’t start acting all high and mighty. You were all too happy to fuck him before you even knew his name, so what’s the problem? You’re down for that shit, aren’t you?”
A barking laugh tears from the back of my throat, and all I can do is gape at him. “You’re kidding, right? This is a joke?” I question, crossing out my mental reminder to speak with Zeph and changing it to something a little more . . . stern.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Jordan grunts. “I thought you were down. You’re always riding Zeph’s cock, so stop being a little tease. You know you’re just going to end up on your knees anyway, so why fight it? Unless you like that.”
I shake my head, barely able to believe the audacity of this man, but then, he is a man, and this type of behavior isn’t all that uncommon. Most of them just do a better job at hiding their misogynistic entitlement.
Anger booms through my chest, and I lift my chin, letting him see just how wrong he is. “Wow. One conversation with your friend about a woman you’ve never met, and suddenly you think you’re entitled to her body. Remind me to send out a blast to every woman on campus, making sure they check their drinks for roofies when you’re around.”
He steps even closer, but this time I don’t bother backing up. I don’t want this guy thinking he has any kind of edge over me. “The fuck did you just say to me?”
“What’s wrong, Jordo? I didn’t immediately fall to my knees and beg you to flop that little pre-cummy pin dick out after all, but calling me a slut on the sidewalk?” I ask. “Let’s get one thing straight. You and I, never going to happen. I would prefer to fuck a rusty drainpipe than to even consider letting you touch me in any kind of way.”
“Zeph—”
“No. No, no, no,” I say, shaking my head. “What happens between me and Zeph is none of your damn business. We’re friends and yeah, I ride his cock all fucking night, but that’s because we have chemistry. He’s fun, and you are certainly not that. Besides, Zeph would never approach a woman on the sidewalk, belittle her, and demand access to her body. I don’t know where the fuck your entitlement comes from, but you need to check it before it lands you behind bars. You’re giving rapey vibes, and if I’m being completely honest, you look like the kind of guy who’s going to rub my left labia for a solid ten minutes and then ask if I came.”
Anger flashes in his eyes, mixed with just a hint of hurt, and I relish in his pain. Striking down a man’s ego isn’t usually my thing, but this guy more than deserved it. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“You sure?” I ask. “How have your past conquests turned out? Did any of them come begging for more? Perhaps you need to break that down with a therapist. Though just a little FYI, because I know you probably haven’t believed any of the women you’ve spoken to before me, but they weren’t lying when they said the clit was a real thing. It’s right there at the top. Just open your squinty little eyes and you’ll find it. It’s like a magical little bean that helps women orgasm. OH! That’s a real thing, too, you know. The female orgasm is a beautiful thing. I know some of you guys don’t believe it exists, but I assure you, it does.”