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“Did you cum?” he asked, the question rushing an unexpected heat between my legs.
“Yes,” I answered.
He licked his lips in response, his eyes brimming with hunger. Instead of speaking further, he released my face, then stormed out of the room, leaving me panting hard and even more conflicted.
Fucking hell…
What in the fuck happened between us just now?
Chapter 37
Samara
“Finally,”IwhisperedwhenI made it back to my dorm at 7AM, thrilled that nobody was up and about to see the fashion monstrosity covering my tiny frame. The nurse had given me a pair of gray sweats and an ugly flower-patterned t-shirt that swallowed me by a good three sizes. I couldn’t wait to strip out of this shit and slip into something more comfortable.
Something more me.
I slept like complete shit. My back was stiff, my neck had a horrible fucking kink in it, and I was almost a hundred percent positive a few of my ribs were cracked. The ache in my ribs I understood. But the rest of it could’ve been avoided if the goddamn nurse hadn’t forced me to spend the night in her office on that intolerably stiff exam table.
I locked the door behind me, dropping my backpack and the bag containing my soiled uniform on the floor. Dragging my feet, I crept down the hall and into my room, opting to leave the door open since I was alone and didn’t have to worry about the need for privacy.
Before stripping out the sweats, I dug deep in the righthand pocket for my phone, cursing as I retrieved it. At least I was smart enough to leave the damn thing in my backpack instead of hiding it in my blazer. Thanks to me being held against my will all fucking night, it was dead. I plugged it up to charge then carefully disposed of my outfit.
After throwing on a black tank top and a pair of matching sleep shorts, I sank back in bed, groaning as I winced from the ache in my ribs and lower back.
I still couldn’t believe it. Kinsley tried to—no, she did fucking kill me, and then Phantom of all people saved me.
Then there was the second encounter with him in the nurse’s office. He stayed; waited for me to wake up. That in itself was unorthodox, but it wasn’t what had me so flabbergasted.
It was his behavior in general. It was the way he looked at me like all the hate he had for me never existed, like my death had somehow made him see me in a completely different form of light. It was the butterflies that’d wickedly flapped to life inside my stomach when he grabbed my face and stared into my eyes like he could see and read ever inch of my soul.
Fuck.
I shook my head and blocked it all out, knowing good and damn well that I had no fucking business entertaining any of it.
They were my enemies and in order to get what I wanted, I had to play the game. I needed them, yes. But I didn’t need themlike that. Once I got what I needed to help get my revenge on them and Damien, I was out of here.
And I swear on my goddamn life nobody would ever find me.
I dozed off and woke up to my phone ringing. With an annoyed grouse, I slapped at the fucking thing until everything went quiet again.
As I started to doze back off, knocks pounded from afar. My eyes popped open and with a sinister snarl, I jumped out of bed, grunting at the ache shooting through my ribs as I stomped down the hall and up to the door.
“Holy shit Samara!”
I blinked, stumbling back as Brian came right at me, clasping me tight in an unwelcomed hug. “Thank God you’re okay.”
“Brian,” I painfully groused against his chest.
He held me tighter, his strength making it impossible for me to break away from him. “Fucking shit Brian, let me go. I can’t fucking breathe!”
“Oh, fuck.” He unhanded me and darted back a few steps. “Sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
He jerked his head back and eyed me over, a befuddled look crossing his face. “So, you didn’t drown in the pool yesterday?”
I sighed and internally screamedfuck meat the top of my lungs. Waving him inside, I shut the door, then staggered over into the kitchen. Brian met me there and watched as I began grinding up coffee beans.
