door slowly shutting behind them.
I plop down on one of the chairs, trying to slow my racing heart. “You can’t force my hand, Cole. Not with this.”
He walks over to where I sit. Reaching out, he runs his busted knuckles along my cheek. I swat his hand away, afraid of what will come out of my mouth if he touches me.
His hand grips my hair and yanks me to stand. I cry out as he shoves my back into the closed door, making it rattle from the force. He towers over me, pushing his body into mine. I’m panting while he holds me still. He dips his head to whisper in my ear. “Are you a virgin, Austin?”
“No,” I growl. My hands come up to push him off me, but he grabs them and pins them above my head. I whimper, and my thighs tighten.
“That’s a shame.” He sighs, and his breath skims across my skin, making me shudder. “I like to take pretty, innocent things and destroy them.”
“You’re sick,” I say, panting.
He chuckles but doesn’t deny it. “But that doesn’t make you want me any less. I saw the way you stared at me in the car. The way you licked your lips when I thought about kissing you. The way you whispered my name. How you stared at me when I got out of the pool. And let’s not forget the way you allowed me to touch you last night. Tell me, were you disappointed when I didn’t throw you on the bed and fuck you right then?” I moan. “I bet you’re wet right now.”
“Cole.” I growl his name, not wanting him to see how right he is.
But he ignores me. “You wore red for me again, sweetheart. You wanted my attention. And you got it. Now what are you gonna do with it?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
COLE
MY BODY PRESSES hers into the door, and I stare down at her, silently daring her to tell me to go to hell. She needs to. I’m not good for her. I shouldn’t be anywhere near her, let alone touching her or thinking about fucking her right here. Because the only thing on my mind right now is pushing her down to the floor, spreading her legs, and burying myself inside her all night. Fuck the guys. Fuck the party. And fuck the fact that she hates me. Hate sex is always the best.
I lower my head to her neck, loving the smell of cherries, and whisper, “What’s it gonna be, sweetheart?”
Her breathing is ragged, her body is soft, and my cock is hard. I just need her to say the words. “You want me, just admit it.”
She stiffens against me, my words finally getting to her. “Get off me, Cole.” They weren’t as forceful as she meant for them to be, letting me know she’s struggling. That’s good enough for me.
I smile and when I let go of her hands, she shoves me backward. I go willingly to allow her space. My eyes roam over her hair. She changed it—the dark brown softly fades to blond at the bottom. The best of both worlds. It looks great on her.
She straightens her red sweater, and I love that she wore it for me. “But you don’t have a choice about joining us.”
She stomps her foot. “Why does it matter so much to you?”
Because we need you. “You’ll have fun.”
“I’ll get arrested. Possibly die.”
I smile. She’s not far off. “Just give it a try.”
“Why do I feel like people don’t just give it a try?”
I step into her once again, and she looks up at me through long, dark lashes. “Do I need to remind you that—”
“That I don’t have a choice.” She cuts me off.
“See. Was that so hard?”
She rolls her eyes, turns around, and yanks the door open. I grab her upper arm and pull her to a stop. Leaning down, I whisper into her ear. “Tonight, you belong to me.” She gives me a side glare, and I give her a threatening smile. “Understood?”
“Understood,” she agrees through gritted teeth.
I take her hand in mine, and we walk out together. We make our way down to the kitchen, passing the partygoers. Some call out my name, giving me a head nod, and others lift their drinks. I ignore them. They came to kiss my ass, and I’m not in the mood to indulge them. Instead, I’m trying to figure out how to get away from her. I shouldn’t want her. Not like