“Don’t you ever question what you are to me again.” My hand cages her jaw, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You’re mine, Peyton. Not Melanie. Not anyone else. You.”
Her chest rises and falls fast, anger and confusion warring in her gaze. “You don’t get to say that and then?—”
“I do. I get to say it. And you’ll believe it, because I’ll make damn sure you feel it every time I touch you.” My thumb drags across her lower lip, rough, claiming. “Every. Time.”
Her bottom lip trembles under my thumb, but she doesn’t look away. Doesn’t push me off.
“Now…” my voice drops to a dangerous whisper, “…are you going to keep torturing us both with your questions, or are you going to admit what you already know?”
25
My back slamsinto the wall, the shock rattling through my spine, but it’s nothing compared to the wildfire burning in his eyes. His hand clamps my jaw, forcing me to look up at him. His words hit like bullets, each one carving deeper until my pulse is a frantic mess beneath my skin.
Mine. Not Melanie. Not anyone else. Me.
I want to scoff, to shove him back and call him a liar. But my traitorous body betrays me, trembling under the weight of his touch. His thumb drags across my lower lip, slow and deliberate. Like he is branding me. Marking territory no one else is allowed to claim.
God help me, part of me wants to let him.
“Colter,” I breathe, my voice cracking. “You don’t get to?—”
He leans closer, so close his breath brushes my mouth. “I get to do whatever the fuck I want when it comes to you.”
Anger spikes, sharp and hot, cutting through the gaze he always seems to wrap me in. “Then why Melanie?” I hiss, even though the sound barely escapes with his grip on me. “You don’t get say I’m yours when you had her on her knees the other night.”
His eyes darken, jaw flexing like he’s a second away from snapping. But there’s something else there too. Shame? Regret? It’s gone before I can name it.
“You think that meant anything?” His laugh is harsh, bitter. “It didn’t. It was nothing. You’re the only one who gets under my skin like this.” His hand slides from my jaw to my throat, pressing hard enough that I gasp. “You’re the only one who makes me lose control.”
I should be terrified. Furious. Running. Instead, I’m pinned to the wall, my heartbeat syncing to the dangerous rhythm of his touch. His eyes bore into mine. He’s not asking me to believe him—he’s daring me not to.”
The worst part? I almost do.
His body cages me in, heat rolling off him in waves, and I’m left teetering on the edge of something I can’t name. I hate him for this. I hate myself for wanting it.
My lips part, but the words die before I can spit them out when I hear footsteps echo down the hall and murmuring voices.
Colter doesn’t move. His thumb strokes once more across my lips, his eyes locked on me like I’m the only thing in existence. “This conversation isn’t over,” he whispers, low and dangerous.
Then he steps back, leaving me shaking against the wall, gasping like I’ve surfaced from almost drowning.
“Peyton,” Pace says my name softly from a small doorway a few feet away. Shaking my head to clear the Colter induced fog, I turn to face him. “Follow me.”
Not wanting to be left alone in the hallways where I know I will no doubt fall to pieces; I stride after him. He leads me through a pair of ornate double doors that open onto a large patio. Jackson and Lee are waiting as I step into the crisp night air.
“There you are!” Jackson crows, a large grin on his face. “Let’s get out of this stuffy old party and have some fun.”
Lee shakes his head at his friends’ antics. “Where do you want to go?”
I shrug. “I don’t care. Anywhere is good with me.”
Lee smiles. “Into the Benz then.” Jackson snorts at Lee’s unintentional rhyme.
I don’t bother to ask where we’re going. Anywhere is better than here—better than the walls closing in, better than Colter’s eyes burning holes through me like he owns me.
The Benz is sleep and black. It’s a car that swallows you the second you sink into the leather seats. Jackson slides into the driver’s seat with a grin to sharp to be harmless while Lee takes the passenger seat like he’s the one actually in charge. I’m tucked in the back, the cool night air still clinging to my skin, trying to smother the heat Colter left behind.
Jackson peels out of the driveway like he’s been waiting all night to escape, music low, bass vibrating through the car.
