For a few fleeting seconds, I wondered if I’d made a mistake. Less than twenty-four hours ago, I was a prisoner in his house, champing at the bit to slap him and claw his eyes out for what he’d done to me. Now things had taken a drastic turn, and instead of hating him and craving revenge, I’d begged for him to be my first. Begged for him to do all sorts of wild, filthy things to me.
It felt so right when he started kissing me earlier—so wonderfully, irresistibly right—but what if that was just my hormones talking, and I jumped the gun in trusting him? What if he didn’t really believe me yesterday, and he still thought I was somehow responsible for what happened to his sister?
All of this… it could just be another way to mess with my mind, the same way he tried to mess with me that night I invited him to my dorm. And I let it happen. Easily. In fact, I made sure it happened. I suggested we skip class and come back here today, and I instigated almost everything from there.
Hunter seemed to know that something was plaguing my mind all of a sudden, because he propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at me, one eyebrow quizzically cocked. “Laney,” he said softly. “Was that really okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I shook my head. “No. It was perfect.”
“Was it too soon?” he asked, eyes filling with unease.
I hesitated, drawing in a deep breath. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?” He stroked my cheek. “I really need you to trust me all the way, so if you don’t, then we shouldn’t have done any—”
I cut him off, pressing an index finger to his lips. My doubts had vanished as soon as I saw the earnest, adoring look on his face and heard his soft words of concern.
“It’s okay, Hunter,” I said with a small smile. “I trust you.”