yours, right?” I shake my head and lower my arm. “But then I come along and what? Suddenly, you don’t get everything you want.” And what does that make me to a man like Dean? A challenge. A real one. That’s all I’ve ever been and all I’ll ever be.
Bile that’s been sitting in my stomach since I first saw Kate and Dean plastered against one another comes rushing up my throat like liquid fire. By the sheer force of my will, I tamp it down. "When will you fucking get it?" I glare up at him, spitting the words through gritted teeth as he stares down at me. His jaw is hard, the muscles beneath his shirt like stone. My chest pumps up and down with exertion. "I'm not going to be controlled by you. Ever."
Cold, brown eyes meet my gaze. "Are you done?" he asks after a beat.
"Yeah," I say. "I'm fucking done." I shove away from him and the door, turning my back to him.
One step is all it takes. One step and then I feel his hard hands on my waist, his chest against my spine, and his breath in my ear as he whispers against the side of my face. "Good," he says. "Then it's my turn."
Dean lifts me up, spins me around, and in reaction, I kick out, knocking him back. The lights go out when his back slams into the switch, but he's not done. Not even close. A low growl leaves his lips as he palms my waist, hefting me into his arms once more before tossing me back onto the mattress of my bed, his body coming down hard over mine a split second later. His hands grip my wrists, yanking them up above my head and holding them tight. Warm breath filters over my face and I turn away, bucking beneath his heavy body.
"Get the fuck off me, Dean!"
"Oh, no. You had your turn, baby. I let you yell and I let you question me, but now it's my turn to start asking the questions. It's my turn to get some answers." He grunts when my knee slams up against his thigh, nearly unmanning him. Quickly adjusting, I curse when his whole body—all six foot three inches of masculine anger—sinks down on me, effectively pinning me in place.
"You drive me absolutely insane, Avalon," he confesses when my struggles are smothered. I jerk my head around and glare up at him.
"The feeling's mutual," I snap.
With how close he is, I can see the individual strokes of his eyelashes. They frame his brown eyes perfectly, darkening the edges and making him look like a dangerous monster in the darkness of my dorm room. Fuck him for looking so good when I'm so fucking pissed at him.
"I didn't say that I didn't like it," he replies, startling me into silence. I don't know what to say to that, so I merely stare up at him, waiting for him to say whatever it is that he so obviously feels is his right to. Carefully, with a focused gaze centered on my face as if watching for a tell that might predict my next move, he transfers both of my wrists into one of his hands. Fingers trail down my cheek as he brushes a few stray strands of my hair out of my face before he grips my chin and lifts it.
"You seem to think that there's a choice left for both of us," he whispers into the darkness, his breath fanning across my lips. I swallow around a dry throat and glare up at him. "There's not." His head comes down and just before his mouth brushes mine, he turns his cheek the slightest bit to the side and skims his lips up the side of my face until his nose is buried in my hair. "We're locked in this, you and I," he says. "There's no getting away. You keep fighting and, baby, I have to admit, it turns me on"—he stops and pushes his hips into mine to demonstrate just how much, and the memory of his hardened cock after we got out of the lake comes to mind. The thick length of him, the flash of silver at the tip. Any saliva I had in my mouth is gone in the next instant and my mouth tastes drier than a desert. "But it's time to stop," he continues. "No more fighting me. No more going off. No leaving. You've been