Thunderstruck, I sputter at him before I manage to get a handle on my tongue. “I’m not your girlfriend!”
His grin widens, and he leans in until his lips are within an inchof mine, overwhelming me with his mouthwatering amber and sandalwood scent. He glances down at my mouth before flicking his stare back up to meet my eyes.
I tremble, my nerves tingling. The soft strands hanging over his forehead tickle my cheek, sending another shiver down my spine.
“Should we skip to wife?” he asks sensually, his voice hushed. I know he’s fucking with me, trying to get beneath my skin. The mirth in his gaze gives him away.
Except, it’s working. I can’t breathe. I know I’m angry—Ifeelit. At least, I think I do. There’s a fire in the pit of my stomach, yet it’s sinking lower, and I’m having trouble extinguishing it.
“Delete the picture,” I croak.
He needs no elaboration.
He cocks a brow. “What would that accomplish? It’s already out there. There’s no taking it back.”
“I’ll tell everyone it was AI,” I counter.
He grins, wrinkles framing eyes that glimmer with mirth as he briefly glances at my lips again, then says, “Okay.”
I don’t even know why I try. There’s no getting through to him, no changing his mind.
He’s a psycho—it’s useless to expect him to be anything else.
“Get away from me,” I say instead. “You’ve crossed so many lines, you might as well have leaped over a trench at this point.”
He hums an amused sound before murmuring, “If that’s what you want, then you better finish your paperwork.”
CHAPTER 19
REVERIE
He watches me carefully as he pops open the button on my jeans, his stare intense. When I stay frozen like an idiot, he drops his gaze, his lips parting with anticipation as he slowly parts the metal teeth.
My heart pounds, and I war with myself. Do I let him do this and give myself a chance to get away from him and Lionel?
He’ll watch over Roxi, and I won’t have to feel so guilty for running away, despite my father’s threat.
A clean break.
Ifhe actually lets me go.
He could be lying. In fact, he probably is.
I grab his hands again, stopping him.
“I don’t believe you,” I whisper. “You’ll sabotage me or you won't follow through, or you'll just do…something.”
Holding my stare, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. Frowning, I watch him open our text message thread and hit thespeaker button to record a voice message.
“If you ever tell anyone I’m taking steroids, I’ll fucking kill you.”
My mouth pops open, baffled, at a loss for what he’s doing when he hits send.
He tucks his phone back into his pocket with a straight face. “If you finish your paperwork and I try to stop you from leaving anyway, then you can send that to the dean and my coach and ruin my entire life.”
I blink. “Wh—” I can’t even finish my sentence, I’m so stunned.
“But if you don’t,” he continues, “then you’ll delete that from your phone, and you stay here with me.”
