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My tongue darts out to lick my lips. “Of course I wanted to fit in. Who doesn’t?”
“Is that the way you still feel?”
I shake my head. “No. My eyes have been opened and I see the way most of these people are.”
Especially after this last week. Not only has it been a brutal lesson, but it’s made me realize that I don’t have many friends here.
“What about Carmichael?” Even though his voice remains quiet, there’s a sharp edge to it.
My brows pinch as I try to grasp the direction this conversation has veered in. The way his fingers continue to drag along my skin make it a challenge. “What about him?”
“Is he a friend?”
“I’ve known Duke since elementary school.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.” He presses a kiss against the flesh behind my knee.
“Yes, he’s my friend.”
“How good of one?”
I blink. “What?”
He pauses as his eyes narrow. “Has he ever touched you, Delilah? That’s what I’m asking.”
“Touched me?” I echo. For some reason, the question doesn’t penetrate. “What do you mean?”
I’m transfixed by how the green flecks in his eyes darken. “Has he ever stroked his hands over you? Or kissed you?”
“No, I told you—we’re just friends.”
He continues to stare as if trying to work out a puzzle in his head. “Maybe he feels differently. Can’t say I know him well, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to involve himself in a situation if he doesn’t have a dog in the fight.”
Well…that’s probably true. Most of the time, Duke is an island unto himself. There aren’t many people he trusts at Hawthorne Prep.
My attention is drawn back to him when he shoves the material of my skirt up and brushes another kiss along my inner thigh. Not once does his gaze stray from mine as his lips inch upward.
“He was pretty quick to steal you away this morning. I didn’t like it. And I sure as shit didn’t like his hands on you either. No one touches you but me.”
When I remain silent, Austin’s teeth sink into the supple flesh of my inner thigh and a whimper escapes from me. I’m walking a fine line between pleasure and pain without any idea as to what side I’ll crash onto.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl. For the moment, you belong to me.”
For the moment.
His hands slide around my hips before dragging my ass to the edge of the desk. My fingers grip the linoleum top, curling around the thick surface as he presses my thighs farther apart.
My gaze darts to the door as anxiety threads its way through my voice. “Austin, we shouldn’t. Not here.”
With a smirk, his attention settles on my panty-covered core. My face heats, knowing that he can probably see the growing wetness on the cotton. There’s no way to hide it.
“Fuck, I can smell you from here.”
When I attempt to close my legs, he forces them wider until my knees practically touch the desk.
