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“I have pepper spray in my bag. I’ll sleep with it under my pillow.”
He winces. “Sounds like a recipe for disaster, but okay.”
Gah, he’s frustrating.
“Do you promise to leave me alone?” I push.
“I intended to, initially. I’m tired.” The corners of his mouth stretch up. “But you’re just so much fun, Morgan. Right now, I don’t think I want to leave you alone at all.”
“Then I’m going back to town,” I say, though for some unholy reason, my feet remain planted right where they are.
I’m not telling him what I’m planning to do so much as challenging him to see his response.
“How about we make a deal?” From this close, his smoldering golden eyes are far too intriguing, especially when he seems to scrutinize every one of my expression.
I pretend my heart isn’t beating too fast. “What kind of a deal?”
He lowers his face further yet, to reach my ear. “Give me an hour to play,” he says, his breath hot on my skin. I don’t think his friends could hear his rumbling whisper, even if they were eavesdropping. “Then I’ll go back to my room and leave you alone.”
It’s cold all of a sudden. It must be. Why else would I be shivering? I shake my head without saying a word.
“That’s not how you negotiate, princess. You want a promise that I’ll stay away? A ‘no’ doesn’t get you that. Try a counteroffer.”
“For the last time, I have a boyfriend, Camden.” Not for long, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I do hope itisthe last time I hear of him.” Camden snort. “He’s not your boyfriend, he’s your beard.”
“Mybeard?” I snort. “I’m not gay.”
“He’s the tool you use to pretend that you’re like everyone else. You picked a dull mama’s boy to convince yourself you fit with your previous idea of the world. But you don’t. You fit in with people like me.”
I should tell him he’s wrong. Actually, I should be halfway off of campus by now. But he takes my chin and tilts my face up, close to his.
“I’m not like you.” The very thought that I could be is terrifying.
His wicked smile curves up a little higher. “Forty-five minutes,” he says.
I blink, taken aback. Are we talking time now? He lowered his request by fifteen minutes.
I shouldn’t indulge this. I should remind him about Trent, and profess true, undying feelings for him, not let him call him a bore again.
That’s not going to fly if he hears I’m breaking up with him soon, though. Not that my decision to let go of Trent has anything to do with Camden, directly. He triggered it, but I came to the conclusion that leaving him was the right thing because when Camden touches me, I feel much more than when Trent does, and that’s not right.
I’m not emotionally attached to Trent, which is normal after about a month together, but between that and my indifference to his touch, it makes no sense to drag things out. Especially when Camden’s intent on making me feel bad about it by forcing arousal and awareness on me, unbidden.
Ishouldn’tfeel bad. Trent and I might be dating but we never had the exclusivity talk. For all I know, he’s fucking everything with tits in LA. He’d be within his rights to do so, and I could also do whatever I’d like as of right now. But I don’t think he’s seeing anyone else, so the fact that I am—despite my best intentions—sharing my attention is unfair to him.
Come on, Morgan. Say it. Tell him to fuck off.
“Ten minutes.” The words are out and it’s too late to take them back.
What’s the worst he can do to me in ten minutes?
The intensity of his stare unsettles me—as does his smile. I imagine that’s exactly how the wolf smiled at the poor old grandma before devouring her whole. Like he knew he’d won. “Thirty.”
I lick my lower lip. It suddenly feels so dry. “Fifteen.”
“Twenty, then. If you want a deal with me, that’s it. I won’t go lower.” The hand that had cupped my chin slides down to my arm. “I don’t go back on my deals, Morgan. You let me play with you for twenty minutes, and I promise to leave right after. If you don’t, well…” He tilts his head. “I might feel lonely in the middle of the night. I’ll wake you with my tongue. Do you think you’ll push me away, princess?”
