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My jaw snapped together, and I hissed through gritted teeth, "Shut. Up.”

"Want me to tell you?" He quirked up a mocking eyebrow. "Or, you want to check for yourself? It's a little cold today, maybe you can warm my dick up with your little hands."

He acted as if he was reaching for my hands, but I slapped him away. In a blink, his arm snaked out, and he gripped my wrist, pulling me closer until our bodies were almost touching. My neck craned up, so I could stare into his face – he was too tall compared to my own tiny height. The top of my head barely came to his shoulders.

"You are disgusting," I hissed, feeling my cheeks warming up under his dark, teasing eyes.

His breath feathered over my cheek; his lips way too close to my ear. "I am proudly filthy, Sweet Cheeks, and so are you. For having these dirty, dirty thoughts."

I suddenly felt hot. Sweat beaded on my neck and between my breasts. My chest heaved with a shallow breath as my inside shuddered at the mere proximity of him.

His lips grazed my earlobe, and my body tensed. I tried to twist my arm out of his grip, but it was pointless. My other hand landed on his hard chest, and I shoved him back. "Fuck off."

He let go of my hand and took a step back, his bruised lips quirking up on the side. "See you tomorrow, Garcia."

I flipped him the finger and started walking away. Fuck. Him. Asshole.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lila

I felt him before I saw him.

His enticing scent engulfed me as he pushed against my back, barely touching, but still way too close.

“What do you want, Coulter? Was today not enough for you?” I asked with a heavy sigh.

It was not a good day, not after the stupid prank Maddox pulled on me. My wet hair was currently soaking the back of my Berkshire’s blouse, the soft material sticking to my skin. I was irritated and absolutely exhausted. One more class left and then it was the weekend. Two blissful days without Maddox.

“Looks like you were able to wash your hair.” He chortled at his own lame joke. “Sorry about the feathers, but it was payback. Don’t be such a grumpy ass, Garcia. You can be a sweet ass, though. I’ll eat it.”

I swiveled around and leveled the douchebag with a glare. “You think gluing feathers in my hair is funny?”

I wanted to throttle him and his stupid, smirking face.

“Don’t exaggerate. I didn’t use glue. I used flour, water and feathers. Simple and harmless. Anyway, you looked cute with a nesting head.”

Mr. Asshole here glued, oh wait, my bad – pasted feathers into my cute beanie with flour and water. So, naturally, when I put on my beanie, all the sticky feathers transferred to my hair. No, I didn’t look at my beanie before putting it on. Who does that, anyway?

My fists clenched and unclenched as I sucked in a deep breath and held back a snarl. Maddox rubbed his jaw, and against my own accord, I took notice that his face was healing up nicely. His bruises were barely noticeable, and his left eye was no longer swollen, black and purple.

He was back to his sexy, irritating self. God give me patience.

Maddox closed my locker, leaning against it like he owned the thing. I gave him a blank look, waiting for this to be over. The hallways were empty, except for the two of us.

“The pink hair prank? That was actually a good one, I’ll give you that. The feathers were payback for the pink hair you gave me.”

Ah, the pink hair. A few days ago, after Maddox left a butt-plug in my locker, a gift, he had written in his note – I decided to retaliate. The need for revenge was strong, and it was easy. I had sneaked into the locker room while Riley kept guard outside. I found his personal locker and switched his shampoo with temporary pink hair dye.

“Itching powder though? Lame as fuck, Garcia.”

“It was a reminder.”

He arched an eyebrow, waiting for me to explain.

“That’s what happens when you lay around with whores. You end up with an itchy dick. Also, a reminder that I’m not someone you can fuck around with. Remember that next time you proposition me for sex like a paid whore.”

“That was a nice thought, except… I don’t need to pay someone for sex. My name comes with a label, baby. Maddox-Coulter-Will-Fuck-You-So-Hard-You-Will-See-Jesus.”

“Where did you find that definition? Dickpedia?”

“If you open dickpedia to the word orgasmic, you’ll find my name there.”

I rolled my eyes while mentally facepalming myself. Why did I even bother to have a conversation with him? It was completely useless. The only thing that came out of his mouth was sex, sex and more sex. Or something completely dumb.

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