“Get lost finding your own class?” I ask. Fluttering my lashes so they drip with sarcasm. “Or is one guard dog not enough now, and you signed up to take Spanish too?”
Cole’s arms strain, latching down on either side of my desk. Caging me in as he arches his back so that we’re at eye level.
“Kellet.”
His mouth lifts but it’s as sly as it is wicked. Not as affected by that name as he once was. “I have something for you.”
I keep my face neutral, whatever it is, I’m almost positive I’m not going to like it. Cole never does anything without a motive.
His obsidian pupils enlarge to an impressive size. Gleaming, they shine like he can read my thoughts.
Briefly, my eyes flick at the clock past his head. “Better get on with it, Iceman. You’ve got less than a minute.”
That smile turns full blown. A playfulness hidden in it that has me drawing closer when I should be pulling away. It’s been a while since I’ve felt those lips pressed on mine.
“First, you have to say please.”
My face contorts into a scowl. “Not happening.”
His stare holds before the most bizarre thing happens. Cole lets out a hearty laugh so genuine that when the sound hits my ears, it goes past my chest and straight into my stomach.
“It’s just a word, Princess.” The lightness in his voice making him more human.
Is Cole flirting?
With me?
“Just like, fuck…” Lifting a finger as he starts ticking off items like they’re a tally. “Soft… pink… pussy…mine.”
My heart thumps as I force my thighs not to squeeze together at the deep rumble in his tone. It’s alarming how freely he can influence me even after all he’s done. I’m still so affected by everything that’s his entire being.
Lately more so than ever.
My ankle, for the most part, is alright. The tissue was mildly inflamed, but after about a week and a half, the swelling dropped. I credit that to his willingness to rewrap it for me daily. I never asked him to, and he never mentioned it, just showing up and doing it for me.
Sometimes he’d bring breakfast the same as he had that first time. We’d chat while I ate, and he wrapped. Then he’d leave and I’d drive myself to school.
No added pressure, demands, or hidden agendas.
It all felt normal, easy.
“That’s quite a list.” My voice is raspier than I want.
His eyes twinkle. “Do something for me?”
Why does it feel like the duration of his niceness is suddenly running out?
I cross my legs, hoping it comes off as defiant to keep myself from looking too eager. The natural assertiveness in his tone making me overheat.
Or maybe it’s because he’s still so close. Close enough that he can kiss me if he really wants.
I angle my chin, but it’s the wrong move. My mouth grazes his with a featherlight touch. The sensation sends shock waves to my heart.
My throat locks in my chest. “What do I get in return if I do?”
“My satisfaction,” he whispers, and it sounds like silk.
My inhale turns choppy, there’s a lethal hint of something growing in his eyes. “What if I don’t care about that?”