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“I should get going. I need to email my professor about missing class today.”
He nods, surprising me with a husky chuckle. He moves to stand and pulls me with him. “Sorry, guys. My girl is getting a little impatient for some alone time.”
God, I hate this man with the fury of a thousand burning suns. I so badly want to rip my arm out of his grip and punch him in the throat, or maybe knee him the dick. Fuck it. Why choose? I’d do both if I was going to be the one to pay for it.
I smile shyly and wave as he leads me out of the living room and to the stairs that lead to the bedrooms. Fuck. This isn’t what I meant. Why can’t just one thing go my way? Just one.
As if things weren’t bad enough, just as we reach the top of the stairs, Davis appears out of nowhere. Almost as if he were waiting for us. Carson nods in his direction as he tries to pass, but Davis moves his body in front of mine. The move forces Carson to drop my hand or risk pulling me into Davis’ chest.
Carson scowls behind him as he watches Davis lean into my space. “You can frame it however you want,” he whispers in my ear. “But a slut is just a slut. And all it takes is finding a better dick to jump from one to the next.” He twirls the same strand of hair that Carson tucked away earlier. He winks before nodding to Carson. “Crawford,” he mocks in goodbye before heading down the stairs.
Carson grabs my arm, his grip once more punishing as he yanks me into his room and slams the door behind us. His free hand wraps around my other shoulder and slams me against the now closed door. My head ricochets and my eyes blur as tears fill them and dizziness washes over me.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the pain and when I open them, Carson’s red face is only an inch from mine. “Do you see what I now have to deal with because of you?” he growls.
My hands tremble as I press them against his chest and try to push him away from me. He doesn’t budge, moving closer as we hear footsteps coming up the steps.
“Davis wants you,” he whispers. “How much do you want to bet that’s him out there?”
I shake my head, refusing to be trapped by his goading. “The others all took your side,” I try to point out, hoping to dissuade his bad mood.
“What does that matter when that asshole is still willing to push me?” he hisses at me. “You think he’s not going to try and milk this little incident for everything it’s worth?”
A sense of hopelessness fills my chest. The bar he sets just keeps getting higher and higher. I have no idea how to handle this new situation. A fake relationship was one thing. I could handle the sacrifices necessary, could keep Carson in check, but all of sudden I don’t even know what game we are playing anymore. Trapped. I feel trapped.
“What do you want from me, Carson?” I plead, my voice cracking as disgust at myself fills me.
The footsteps sound in the hallway, getting closer to Carson’s door. They falter as they get closer.
“Show Davis exactly what he can’t have,” he whispers. I’m only confused for a moment before his lips press against the base of my neck. I gasp, a strangled little whimper, and try to push him away from me. “Louder than that, Darling,” he demands.
I don’t hear any footsteps any longer, which can only mean whoever it was either stopped outside his door, or continued on without me noticing. Based on Carson’s expression, I have to assume it’s the former.
He moves his mouth back down to the base of my throat, taking the delicate skin there and sucking on it. Hard enough it’s sure to leave a mark. Tears fill my eyes again as I struggle to push him away. His grip on my shoulder tightens. I cave as I give him what he wants, forcing a moan out of my mouth. I don’t know how convincing it is when all I really want to do is scream, but it’s good enough for Carson.
He chuckles as we hear steps moving away from his door. “I guess you can be a good girl with the right motivators.”
I shove him away again and this time he allows it, chuckling again when I wipe his spit off of my neck. “I trust you know how to handle that?”
I nod. He left it for a reason, but that doesn’t mean it would be appropriate to show it off. “Can I go now?” More than ever, I just need to be alone. This may have been a performance just like any other time, but Carson went much further than ever before. My fingertips press to the slightly sore spot on my neck and I catch Carson smirking as he watches me.
“Not quite yet,” he murmurs, moving towards me again. I put my hands up to stop him but he easily pushes them out of his way. “Calm down,” he warns, real irritation bleeding into his tone again. I just have to appease him for a few more minutes before I can leave. I swallow my reply and lower my arms to my sides. He reaches behind me to free my hair from its ponytail before mussing it with his hands. I stay still, even as he pulls my shirt free from my skirt.
He looks down at himself before taking his own shirt off and throwing it on the floor behind us. I watch silently, not bothering to offer any complaints. All I care about now is getting out of here. He looks at me appraisingly. His hand reaches out and I flinch but all he does is run his thumb over my lips, smearing what’s left of my lipstick.
“Alright, let’s go.”
I release a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. We’re silent as we make our way back downstairs, Carson loosely holding my hand at his side. Most of the guys from earlier are still sitting in the living room and we have to pass them in order to get to the door. I avoid meeting any of their eyes as they call out their goodbyes and I wave.
Carson just nods as he walks me out. He pauses in the open doorway, pulling me to a stop and making me face him. “Do you need a ride back?”
I give him my best version of a demure smile. Not even if my entire path was covered in broken glass and I had no shoes. “No thanks,” I answer instead. “The short walk will be good for me.”
He laughs like I just told him the best joke he’s ever heard. “Some time to cool off would probably be best,” he jokes back. It’s a struggle not to sneer at him, but I’m so close. So fucking close. His hand caresses my face and he places a kiss on my cheek.
He drops his voice lower, but I know it’s still loud enough to carry to the others. “You know, you really didn’t have to apologize for what they did,” he chuckles, like some goddamn broken record. “But I sure did appreciate your method of doing so.”
This fucking prick. Every way I’ve imagined his death is no longer good enough. There’s absolutely nothing I can say back to his bullshit without risking his wrath all over again.
