Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
The fact that she has it means she's here right now, her heart beating beneath my palm. It means she's real and alive and healthy. It's beautiful, just like the rest of her.
"Gage," she whispers.
I drag my hand down her abdomen, loving the way she quivers and trembles. She doesn't tell me to stop when I slide my hand under the waistband of her pants. She doesn't even tell me to stop when I slip them lower.
"You're so wet, butterfly," I rasp against her lips, trying not to lose my mind at the feel of her soaked panties beneath my fingers. "Do you want me?"
"I…I…"
For a minute, I think she's going to tell me no. I think she might kick my ass and haul balls out of here, but she shocks both of us when her wild green eyes flick to mine, her expression searing me.
"Yes."
I groan softly, burying my face in her throat as I flick her panties aside.
She bites her lips, choking on a moan as I touch her for the first time, sliding through her juices to circle her clit. She's burning hot against my fingertips, and so damn wet. My dick presses insistently against my zipper, begging for release. But this isn't about me. This is about her.
I grind against her clit until she's panting and trembling in my arms.
"Let go for me," I whisper, wanting—needing—to feel her fall apart for me. "I've got you, butterfly. Just let go."
Her nails dig into my shoulders, her face pressed against my throat. She unravels so sweetly, panting and quivering against me. She's a dream in my arms, so damn perfect as she comes.
At least until someone slams a book down on the other side of the library.
She jolts in my arms like a frightened little rabbit in the sights of a wolf.
Before I can say anything, she's pulling away, putting distance between us like her life depends on it, her eyes wide and wild. She doesn't look like the beautiful woman who just fell apart in my arms. She looks…scared.
"Troian—"
"Don't," she whispers, throwing up one hand while grasping for her bag with the other. "Just don't, Gage. That shouldn't have happened."
"Yes, it should have," I growl, taking a step toward her.
"No, it shouldn't!"
"Why not?"
"Because…because you don't love me." Her shoulders droop, the life bleeding out of her expression. What it leaves behind is devastating.
"What?" I rock back on my heels, stunned.
"Just leave me alone," she whispers, practically begging. "Just let me finish this year in peace, without being everyone's favorite target. I'm tired, Gage. I'm so damn tired!"
She turns, fleeing with tears in her eyes. And I feel worse than I did to begin with. This isn't what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to leave knowing that I love her, that I've always loved her.
Instead, I fucked up.
Again.
Chapter Eight
Troian
"Holy shit," Corey says, striding toward the bleachers where I'm hiding out instead of attending class. "Do my eyes deceive me, or has Little Miss Valedictorian turned into a rebel?"
I snort, leaning back on the metal bleacher and turning my face up to the sky. There's very little sun today, but I like the feel of the wind on my face and the smell of the ocean in the air. It's soothing.
I need that right now. My whole body is a mess of anxiety and contradictions. My mind is even worse. For a minute in the library, I let myself believe that Gage loves me. I let myself believe that he wants me the same way I've always wanted him. And then reality intruded and I just…freaked out.
I thought about someone catching us back there, and what they'd say, how much worse things would get for me if they knew that I let him get me off. Victoria would never leave me alone if she knew.
Instead of being an untouchable leper, she'd make me a whore.
"Why aren't you in class?" Corey asks, climbing the bleachers to sit beside me. "You finally decide your grades are already so good that the rest of us will never catch up?"
"You aren't far behind," I remind him. If I weren't the Valedictorian, it'd be him. We're only 0.3 percentage points apart, scoring-wise.
This time, he snorts. "Girl, please. Ain't nobody got time to even try catching you. You make A's like people breathe."
"I wasn't allowed to run or do the things most kids could do, so I spent my time with books instead," I murmur, my voice soft.
"You weren't allowed to run and play? Why the fuck not?" He narrows his eyes on me. "Should I be calling the cops on your parents right now?"
"No, it's not like that. My parents are amazing." I hesitate and then sigh. "I had to have a heart transplant when I was ten."
"Damn," he whispers, and I feel his gaze on me. "Why haven't I ever heard about this? Does anyone even know, Troian?"