Glass Heart Savage - Lindsey Iler Page 0,47

enough time to touch, not enough body to devour, and this is starting to be a problem, for more reasons than my salacious hunger for her.

She hurries around her room, picking up clothes and putting dishes in her small sink. I’ve been in here before, but I never realized how small the space is.

Palmer bends over the laundry hamper in the corner. “I don’t think I have anything that will fit you.”

She stands and spins the moment I drop my jeans to the floor. “It’s okay.” Like I own the place, I rip off my shirt and pull back the covers on her bed. “After you.”

“You live this life where you say jump, and everyone says, ‘how high,’ don’t you?” She undresses, and I wonder if she realizes she’s doing the exact thing she’s complaining about. “It’s like you are incapable of being told no.” She slips into a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. Clothes are pointless, but if she wants to feel better about bending to my will, then that’s on her. “What makes you so damn special, huh?” She slips under her comforter and aggressively tucks it under her arms. A tizzy fit has never been so hot. She glares up at me when she notices my smile. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

I stand at the edge of her mattress, gazing at her, surprised by my own thoughts. “Why?”

“Why, what?” She fidgets under my scrutiny.

“Why are you so willing to jump into bed with me? Every time you have a chance to put your guard up, you let me push down another brick you’ve built around yourself.”

“Honestly?” Her eyebrow raises. “I’m not sure. There’s something about you, even with how cruel you’ve been towards me.”

“I haven’t been any way towards you.”

“Avoidance, pure disdain, it’s the same thing, Marek. You four made me feel invisible. Sometimes that can be worse than blatant hatred.”

“Seeing you around campus, after Reed went missing, it was hard. It’s that simple.”

“Right, because you all had a relationship with her I’d never begin to understand.”

“We weren’t meant to be understood, Palmer. We were what we were.” I slip in beside her.

She reluctantly folds herself into my side. Silence takes over, neither of us sure what to say.

While running light lines on her back, she squirms. “Tonight, Marek, seeing Georgina’s body was hard. I don’t think I’ll ever get that girl’s face out of my mind.”

“They’ll figure out who did it, Palmer.”

“After my sister, I was afraid to walk through campus. Every day it got easier, but now, it feels like a threat lies within these walls.” She lifts her head to look at me.

You have no idea, sweetheart.

I brush my fingers through the front of her hair. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Guys like me can’t make promises. You’re right about that.” I kiss the crown of her head, knowing damn well, at some point, Palmer’s fear will catch up to her.

“What can you do, then?” She breathes out the words.

The hidden message sends a wave of desire through my body. I twist, rolling her onto her back, me tucked perfectly between her legs.

We spend the night doing what we do best together. Forgetting. She knows what I want and isn’t afraid to allow me to push the boundaries, maybe a little too far, too soon. There’s some sick thrill that rushes through me when I see her eyes widen from what my hands are doing to her. She’s afraid she’ll like it. When the fear turns to excitement, her lips turn up with approval.

Palmer falls asleep in my arms, and I spend an hour touching every piece of exposed skin. She’s a fucking saint, and here I am, wrecking her body and mind without a second thought.

My phone vibrates, and I blindly search for it. I slip out of Palmer’s bed and reach into my pocket.

Two words on the screen from Byron disrupt everything in my life.

One week.

Chapter Nine

Palmer

News of Georgina Matthews traveled fast. I had no doubt it would once the family was alerted. Her father is a senator and her mother a contributor to important organizations throughout our state. Many may consider her a socialite from the outside, but those who know the changes she’s made for high profile social issues know different.

She’s a childless saint now.

This week, they buried their daughter with no answers. Our families are connected in that right. It’s unjust and cruel, but I couldn’t stop the pity

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