Tough Sh*t - Sheridan Anne Page 0,46

so damn good? My tits press against his chest and my lips come down on his neck. I kiss him, tasting his warm bronzed skin and breathing in that heavenly scent.

My phone is forgotten, and his other hand comes to my body as he presses his dick up against me. I grind on it, both of us groan, and I know that I'll more than likely leave a wet spot on his sweatpants.

Colton’s hand comes up and threads into the hair at the back of my head. He grabs my hair and tears my head back until my tits are up in the air. He sucks my nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the tight bud, sending my eyes rolling back into my head.

I’m helpless under his touch but then, so is he.

I roll my neck, pulling against his hold on my hair and he instantly lets go. My hand slips down beside his thigh and I wrap my fingers around my phone, keeping my body moving on his. My lips brush over his ear and he groans with need. “Do you want me, Colton?” I whisper, making his fingers clench against my ass.

“Fuck, yeah.”

I let a moan slip through my lips and adjust myself on his lap, before kissing his neck once more. “Guess what?” I murmur, pressing my knee against his crotch and making his whole body stiffen like a board. I press harder and his eyes shoot up to mine and it’s like having iced water tipped over his head. “You will never get this.”

With that, I slip off his lap and grab the throw blanket on the dresser beside him and quickly wrap it around my body. “Now please,” I say with a sickeningly sweet smile, my phone safely in my hand, and an epic female version of blue balls. “Get the fuck out. I won’t be asking again.”

He shakes his head, almost in shock, and I don’t doubt that he feels like the biggest fool. He lost this round, and I can guarantee that now he knows exactly what lengths I’d go to; he won’t be making that mistake again.

He stands before me and steps into my personal space, curling his hand around the back of my neck. His lips come down on mine just like they had yesterday. Bruising, forceful, and filled with power. “Game on.”

Chapter 10

I sit beside Milo in the cafeteria, scowling at Colton from across the room. The more I watch him sitting on his tabletop surrounded by followers, the angrier I get. Everyone watches him eagerly as he speaks, all of them laughing even when he's not funny.

I try to tune him out but the only other thing for me to do is listen to the way Milo’s friends go on and on about the cops showing up here yesterday and the board members filing into Dean Simmons’ office first thing this morning. Apparently, it’s all their gossipy mothers could talk about last night.

While yesterday was a shitty day with an even shittier ending, it means that now the guys at school have backed off. They now understand that I won’t accept shit from anyone, and I’m not afraid of taking them down. Well, it mostly means that. I wouldn't have been able to do it without Charles Carrington and they know that.

Milo’s elbow comes shooting into my arm. “What’s up with you. You look like you’re about to murder someone, or you're constipated. Seeing as though you have the best chefs in town, I’m going to go with option number one.”

I press my lips into a tight line and my eyes involuntarily shoot across the room to Colton, only to find his glare already on me. I’m instantly reminded of how it felt grinding down against his hard cock and my thighs clench under the table, but of course, from where Colton sits across the room, he catches the movement.

Fuck. I hate him so bad.

“It’s nothing,'' I grumble but Milo’s wide grin tells me he knows exactly what it is.

“Why don’t you just fuck him and get it out of your system?”

“No way. That's what he wants. I'll never give in to him like that. I’d rather watch him burn.”

Milo groans and falls back into his seat, stretching his legs out wide under the table. “Ugh, thanks for reminding me why I go to an all-boys school. You chicks are so dramatic.”

“And you dudes are dick heads.”

“Shut up,” he laughs. “You’re such a bitch when you're horny.

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