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We moved at the same time, lips connecting in a shower of sparks. I fell back on the mat, running my hands in his hair, bringing him closer. We devoured each other—a torrent of pent-up emotions unleashing as Lucien’s tongue broke the seal, tangling with mine.

My experience with men was limited in the extreme. Genital-less Barbie and Ken saw more action than I have in my lifetime. The first time I was truly with a guy, I was destined to bonk his nose, flail around freaking about where to put my hands, bite him, or use too much tongue. My inexperience left me clueless to the fact that none of that could happen with Lucien Calais.

Our mouths fit together like puzzle pieces, moving in perfect sync. He had no problem moving down to my hips—holding me close and firm. I didn’t pause a breath draping my arms around his shoulders, moaning as he teased and tasted me, setting off the fuse in my core that zinged up and exploded in my mind. I could kiss Lucien all—

Pain pricked my lip. “Ow.”

“Oh, my apologies.” Lucien pulled back, a drop of my blood glistening on his fang. “Let me.”

Peering into my eyes, he descended, licking the blood off my lips. My legs clenched, lower belly tightening.

His pupils dilated to saucers. “That’s the end of the lesson for today. I’m afraid if I continue, I’ll do something very ungentlemanly.”

“You promise?”

Lucien traced my lips. “I can promise to let the other side of me take over, if you promise this isn’t about getting back at your ex.”

Reality doused a cold bucket of water in my face. I pushed Lucien off. “Victor isn’t my ex. The marriage was arranged. It was forced on me in exchange for tuition. If anything, I’m celebrating getting to throw that damn ring in his face. It made me ashamed to have feelings for other men, even though the man it tied me to didn’t give a shit about me.”

“Forgive me. I was wrong.”

“You were wrong,” I flung, shoving to my feet. “Except for one thing, we are done for today.”

I left him on the mat, storming to my room. For thirty seconds, I got to forget about the terrible decision hanging over me, the humiliation of the night before, and the uncertainty of the night to come. Thirty damn seconds to just be a girl with a boy I liked, and Lucien had to bring it all back.

“And to call Victor my ex?” I slammed around in my room, snatching the wall decals I ordered out from my desk drawer and slapping them up.

In no universe was that man my ex-anything other than my ex-impending disaster. We never even got to the point where we liked each other as people, let alone a couple with an ended relationship worth mourning.

I was wrong for not telling him about the kiss, but it happened before we agreed to be exclusive. While on the other side of the double standard, he fucked other girls before we became exclusive, and I didn’t throw his ass out of my house.

There was nothing between me and Victor. And if I ever felt like it was, my neglected lady bits are to blame. He’s hot and my body responded to it. There wasn’t anything else.

“Sinclair.” Wilder leaned against my doorframe. “When you’re done banging on the wall, come upstairs. There’s something I have to show you.”

“Show me what?” I asked, though I set down the decals and trailed behind him.

“Since you insist on going tonight, there are a few things you should take with you.”

I followed Wilder up to the third floor. My interest piqued as he made for the locked door on the end—the only room in the house I hadn’t seen inside.

The locks opened with a symphony of clicks, bangs, and clangs. Finally he stepped to the side, letting it swing open. “After you.”

“Wilder, how...” The rest faded off my tongue.

There was no other word for the place I was standing in other than armory. Weapons of all kinds, shapes, and sizes claimed the walls, tables, floor, and two locked display cases. I bumped against the butt of a rifle and freaked. Running back to Wilder, I put him between me and the room full of weapons.

“Wilder, are you insane?! If campus security raids this place, you’ll end up in jail for forever. For two forevers,” I cried. “This is the stockpile of an Armageddon nutjob who filters his pee for drinking water!”

“I still drink regular spring water, thank you,” Wilder breezed. “Relax, Sinclair. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, this stuff remains under lock and key. A digital weapon gets the job done better than steel the majority of the time. This is so I’m prepared for anything.” He held up a case with a biohazard sign. “Chemical warfare. SB3A could be aerosolized and dropped on our heads as gas bombs any day now. I’ve got four suits, but yours is ordered and on the way.”

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