Page 17 of Cruel Titan

He removes his arm from the door before brushing his thumb along my jawline. “I told you you’d hate me.”

“At least there’s one thing you didn’t lie about.”

“It’ll only get worse from here.”

“There’s nothing more you can do to hurt me worse than you already have.”

“Just watch and see,” he brushes his lips against mine.

I remain rigid, not wanting to respond to any sensation he’s evoking, which isn’t easy to do with my fury growing. “Why won’t you just leave me alone? You’ve already taken my dad from me. You go out of your way to make me question the few people I care about in my life. What else could you possibly want?”

“It’s not that hard to figure out.” Pressing into me, I feel the hard bulge in his pants against me.

“I’m sure you can find someone to handle that tiny problem.”

He snickers, entwining his fingers in my hair as he brings his lips near mine, annoyingly confident that my insult at his size isn’t anywhere near the truth. “Only tiny problem I have is not hearing those moans coming from your lips when I bury my dick in your pussy.”

A surge of desire sweeps over me as memories of us together flash through my mind. It’s quickly overshadowed by fury at remembering his words—that he was going to fuck me until I hated him. I had no clue how right he’d be.

Crashing my lips onto his, I kiss him with every bit of desire, rage, hate, and lust I feel for him at the moment. His fingers tighten in my hair as his body relaxes against mine, thinking I’ve caved into his desire. Not a fucking chance. I needed to exploit his distraction, to bring his guard down, just like he’s done to me so many times. Gripping his shirt in my fingers, I pull him towards me. Right as I bring my knee up, he shifts, recognizing my intention too late. As I strike him, he releases me. I didn’t get the full thrust I was going for because he had me pressed so close to the car, but I at least got my point across. I watch him frustratedly grab his crotch, adjusting himself while he curses under his breath.

Elliot walks up, groaning as he covers his manhood, probably recalling being in the same position from previous experience. There’s really no telling. I hadn’t realized we had an audience. “Damn, Quinn. Was that really necessary? It hurts like a mofo to be kicked in the pecker.”

“Well, maybe he shouldn’t have pressed his pecker against me.”

Elliot doesn’t have a response to that one, just makes his way to Asher’s car, pulling open the passenger door before plopping down in the seat. One of his legs remains hanging out of the car as he hollers, “Just choke each other and get it over with.”

Asher has the nerve to smile, looking at me with the sinister look I know all too well. “Glad to know you want to play dirty,” he says with way too much amusement. I wish I’d gotten a harder hit in when I had the chance. “Now … it’s my move.”

I hear his warning and should heed it, but I won’t. Neither of us can break away from this wickedly cruel game. An endless cycle of him hating me and wanting me in equal measures, making my life miserable, while I desire to return it all tenfold. “I’ll be ready and waiting.”

Snatching the handle, I jerk the door of the Audi open, and drop into the seat before slamming it closed. Asher maintains his same spot. I know there’s no preparing for what he’s plotting. All I can do is try to be ready for whatever he throws my way.

* * *

Scents of delicious home cooking float from the kitchen, which means Francis is here—which is odd for a Saturday, her usual day off.

“Smells so good.” I slide onto the barstool at the island, happy to have the chance to sit and talk to Francis rather than Candace. It’s really sad when the housekeeper’s company is more comforting than my own mother’s.

“Thank you.” She gives me a side-eye but keeps a slight smile on her face. “What is this I hear about detention?”

“Just a misunderstanding.” Downplaying it has worked so far. I don’t want to have to explain to anyone that a picture of my dad and Nathan led to my detention.

“Hm … and what was the ‘misunderstanding?’” She wipes her hands on her apron, clearly not planning to let me off the hook as easily as Nathan and Candace. Surprisingly, it doesn’t concern me but makes me happy because she seems to genuinely care. “I had a disagreement with a friend, and their phone ended up in pieces on the other side of the classroom.”

“And Asher Hastings is that friend.”

“Yep.” So either Candace or Nathan has filled Francis in on some of the details.

“That boy is trouble at every turn.”

“Agreed.”

“What was the disagreement about?”

“It really wasn’t a big deal.”

“It must have been a big deal to throw his phone across the room.”