A mischievous smile crossed the big jock’s face. “Technically, it’s my room too.”
“Not for the next hour. It’s getting serviced by our new housemaid.”
Lorelei’s smile stretched from ear to ear, and my fingers curled into tight fists at my sides. There was no way I’d survive an extended period of servitude under Killian’s hand. Maybe everyone was right, and I didn’t belong here. I couldn’t afford fancy trips, and there was no way I’d be trading money in exchange for this shit. But I sure as hell wasn’t letting Killian Davenport chase me away either.
Axel squeezed his roommate’s shoulder and muttered under his breath. “I hope you get serviced too. You need some ass to take the edge off, dude.”
“I heard that,” I hissed. “And I’m not some sort of sex slave.”
Killian’s gaze caught mine, and a wicked gleam darkened his eyes. The corners of his lips curled, and damn my traitorous body, but moisture pooled between my legs. I squeezed my thighs together to stifle the building heat. What the hell was that about?
The door slammed shut, jerking my thoughts away from the lusty spiral. God, what is wrong with me? I hated Killian. Even when we were best friends, I’d never been attracted to him. Not really.
“Make the bed,” Killian barked and pointed at the newly slightly ruffled comforter.
“It is made.”
“I don’t like the creases.”
Oh my gawd, this was going to be hell. I bent over the bed and ran my hand over the navy blue comforter until it was pristine.Then I spun around and my nose nearly brushed Killian’s. When had he gotten so close?
“Now what?” I forced out.
He loomed over me, a slight part to his lips. He slid his tongue out and dragged it over his bottom one. God, why did that look so damn good on him?
“How long do I have to be here?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I tried again since he seemed to be too fixated on my mouth to answer my first question. “I have class in an hour, and your side of the room is practically spotless.”
His eyes narrowed as he regarded me, those brilliant green irises fixed on mine as if they could somehow rip the truth from my soul. No one had ever hurt me the way Killian had all those years ago. He knew every dark, broken part of me, and when I’d needed him most, he’d betrayed me in the worst way.
His head dipped forward, and for an instant, the darkness cleared. The angry twist of his lips melted away, and in that second, he looked just likemyKillian. I leaned into him, desperate for the warmth of his touch. My body recognized every inch of his, even after all this time. I hated that.
Those familiar eyes bored into me and for just a heartbeat, the last three years vanished.
My brain screamed at me to shove him back, but instead, I held my breath, his lips a whisper away.
“Fuck it.” Killian’s mouth captured mine, swallowing up a gasp.
My brain said no, screamed at me to shove him off, but my stupid body needed him like my lungs needed air to breathe. Our tongues tangled, and there was something so familiar about his taste, the desperate gnashing of our teeth and lips. Killian had kissed me exactly one time when we were in high school. It was on a dare from one of his idiot friends. It had been nothing like this.
This was divine torture.
His hand slid to the back of my neck, his fingers fisting around my hair until he angled my head exactly how he wanted to devour me. Fuck, Cordi had been right. Killian was good at this. If he kissed like this, I couldn’t imagine?—
No! What the hell is wrong with you, Lexi?
I ripped my mouth free of his and shoved him back. A tangle of emotions battled it out in my chest; lust, fury and confusion, like a whirling tornado. Kill’s eyes chased to mine, and I could see the same emotions mirrored in his fiery gaze.
He loosed a breath and took another step back on his own, putting some much needed space between us. “You can do the laundry,” he gritted out. His voice sounded rough, like the words scraped his throat on the way out. And that jagged tone sent a perverse amount of pleasure racing through me. He spun around and marched to his closet, revealing a wicker hamper. “And take this too.” He tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his torso. “Make sure you get out the blood and the stink of your cheap ass perfume.”
Ignoring the sting of his angry words, my eyes were glued to his carved abs, revealing row after row of sculpted perfection beneath a swirl of ink. He tossed me the polo, and I let it fall to the floor, much too focused on the massive tattoo that covered his chest.
A bruised and battered crimson heart sat in the center, thick iron chains coiled around the disturbingly lifelike drawing.
My stomach dropped. My heart kicked at my ribs, and I swallowed hard.
No, no, it couldn’t be.
I’d seen that tattoo before...
