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Six
Iwalk, barefoot, back down the hallway toward the kitchen.
“—earlier practice? You guys are solid against Bolton University. Their first-string quarterback is injured, their second lets his nerves get the best of him,” Jason says as I come around the corner.
“Trust me, we’ve all had this talk with him. Coach doesn’t care. I was kind of hoping his obsession with Jack would give us a break but I guess we aren’t that lucky,” Grant replies. He’s exactly where I left him, leaning up against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. As his eyes land on me, the annoyance on his face disappears and open appreciation colors his expression.
Jason looks over to see what’s caught his friend’s attention. When his brows fly upward and he lets out a low whistle, the heat in my face turns scolding hot. Trip throws back another shot after sparing me a quick glance. I clasp my hands together in front of me to block my stomach sticking out and lower my gaze to glare at the floor.
“Almost perfect,” Grant says, thoughtfully. I hear the soft padding of his feet coming toward me. Immediately, my head flies up as he stops in front of me. He pulls a small tube of lipstick out of his pocket and pops off the top. It’s a ridiculous shade of bright pink. I look from the makeup to Grant’s face.
“I don’t think it’s your color,” I muse coldly.
He smirks as the others laugh.
“It’s not for me. Hold still.” He takes another step toward me, but I take a step back.
“No!” I go to slap it out of my face but Jason’s suddenly there behind me, grabbing my wrist.
“He said hold still, dollie,” He murmurs in my ear, pulling me into his body with his other hand. He’s sowarmand big. His whole frame dwarfs me and wraps around me easily.
Grant’s pupils narrow and his mouth presses into a hard line. He doesn’t speak though as he moves toward us and slides the lipstick over my lips. The running back is strangely gentle and thorough as he paints them to his satisfaction. When he’s done, he caps the tube and places it on the counter before stepping back to admire his work.
“Well? Done ogling?” I wanted the words to come out full of contempt. Unfortunately, my voice is soft and wavering with uncertainty.
“Absolutely not,” Trip says, walking over to us.
Jason’s hands come up to grab my arms, and he pulls me away from his body and holds me out for the others to view. “Let’s take a look at how well you wear this outfit, dollie.”
Why does his voice have to sound like a deep, rich melody? It would make this a lot easier if he had a squeaky voice, an ugly smile, or something. Even as he shows me off to his friends, I can’t stop the small burn of need kindling between my legs.
Grant’s gaze is slow and appraising as it slides down my body. His eyes darken while his hands clench into fists.
“You were made to be a slut,” Trip tells me as he comes to stand beside Grant. He’s shorter than his other two friends, but not by much. And he makes up for height in the width of his shoulders.
“Excuse me?” This time I do manage a bite to my tone.
“You heard him,slut,” Grant repeats with a tight smile. He holds out his hand for me to take. I simply look at it.
“Don’t make him order you to take his hand, dollie,” Jason says, pushing me forward gently toward Grant. “Remember, it’s up to you how we handle this situation.”
Grinding my teeth, I reach forward and place my hand in Grant’s. His long fingers wrap around my hand easily and he tugs me toward him. I stumble into his chest. Reaching up, he strokes my face and stares down at me. Not with wonder, but with something dark and dangerous.
And that’s when it clicks.
It’s his power that makes me so uncomfortable. It practically crackles around him. That’s why the hair on the back of my neck rises and goosebumps race down my arms. It’s also why my thighs press together. I can roll my eyes at Pianna for her taste in men, but I, too, have a taste for men who have a little extra bite. The only difference between my best friend and me is that I’ve been burned and learned my lesson, Pianna hasn’t made it past the learning stage yet.
“Come, you’ve made us wait long enough.” Grant pulls me toward the family room and lets go of my hand as my feet hit the rug. He flops down onto the couch and throws his arms up over the back of it. Jason sits down on the chaise part, and Trip, he stops beside me. I glance over my shoulder at him, not trusting the guy to be anywhere near me. Our eyes meet and he smirks. Something hits the ground at my feet. I look down to see an old, worn book without a cover, laying there.
“Uh-oh, a book on the floor. Can’t have that, can we?” Trip says. “Pick it up.”
I glare at him. “No.”
His hand flies out and he grabs my hair, just like Grant had, and yanks me down onto the floor. I cry out at the sharp pain in my scalp.
“Pick it up, slut.”
When I don’t immediately reach for the book, Trip’s grip tightens in my hair. I cry out again. With tears in my eyes, I reach down and grab the book. He lets go of me and allows me to get to my feet.
