ASH
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes when Porter pulls up at a frat party. He apologized for his crappy behavior for a week, showed up at my door with flowers, and announced through the college public announcement system that he was a jerk, begging me for one more date.
So here I am, standing on the edge of a crowd of sweaty, horny college students, with a spiked punch in my blue cup, waiting for Porter to grab yet another drink. These college rituals don’t appeal to me. They never have, and never will. I can’t remember ever enjoying parties back home, either. The fact that Marcy isn’t here makes this even more excruciating. I spotted our friend Georgia dragging a guy by the hands up the staircase a minute ago.
I set my cup down with no intention of picking it up again and push through the crowd to find Porter. He’s AWOL, again! A guy smirks at me, undressing me with his eyes and when I spot an empty restroom, I slip inside, placing my head against the door and taking a deep breath. The last thing I need is to be hit on by some fucking douchebag. The thrumming music isn’t so bad in here, and I wonder if it’ll be too stuck-up if I stayed in here all day.
I turn around. “Fuck!”
Ryder’s standing against the wall, what looks like a joint in his hand. “You scare easily, kitten.”
Oh, I hate that nickname. What are the chances that of all the places I try to hide, the one person I loathe the most would find me? His leather jacket fits too well, his jeans hang too right, his hair...what the fuck is wrong with me? I don’t miss the new black eye he’s sporting.
“What are you doing here?” I let out a sigh.
“Getting high. You want some, kitten?” The smirk on his face tells me he’s baiting me.
Despite my better judgment, I motion for him to hand it over. Partly because I don’t want him to think he gets to me, and partly because being here fucking sucks.
He stalks toward me, so slowly it makes my breath hitch. When we’re toe to toe, he lifts the joint, slipping it slowly between my lips, and I’ll be fucking lying if I said it wasn’t the hottest thing that’s happened to me. His eyes stay on my lips.
I take a long drag, and our eyes meet when puffs of smoke filter from my lips over his gorgeous face. “There’s a lot of space in this bathroom, you know.”
He smirks, making my stomach flip and my thighs clench together. “I think I’m good right here.”
My eyes home in on his bruised skin. “Who’d you piss off this time? I’d like to thank him. He’s made you prettier.”
His jaw ticks, and anger flashes in his eyes, but only for a second before it’s replaced with malice. “So, you admit you think I’m pretty.”
My cheeks flame and I take another deep drag to avoid responding. I blow out the smoke, and he seems to inhale it. When I hand it to him, he raises the joint to his lips, blowing the smoke excruciatingly slowly against my face.
“So, do you?”
“Do I what?”
His half-crooked smile makes my insides dissolve. Why the fuck does he have to be so gorgeous?
“Find me pretty,” he whispers.
The joint drops to the tiled floor, and he puts it out with his boot, still not moving an inch away from me. He tugs a stray curl and twirls it around his fingers. I can barely breathe as I watch him, and then those stormy orbs meet mine and he licks his lips.
There’s darkness there. The kind that can drag you so far into the depths you’ll never make it out.
The kind of darkness that settles in the soul and poisons the blood.
Before I awake from my trance, his hands wrap around my throat. I let out a moan, which he seems to enjoy. “That’s a fucking pretty moan, kitten. Will your pussy purr for me just like that?”
I should be angry at his crude words. He hates me as much as I hate him. What the hell is happening?
“Ryder…”
“Shh,” he whispers, and I want to look away so much it’s physically hard to suck air into my lungs. “I wanna taste you on my tongue, just to know if you taste like I’ve imagined every fucking night since you crashed my party.”
“I don’t—”
His finger presses softly against my lips, and I close my eyes because if I look at him, I’ll give in, and I don’t even know what’s happening between us. That day in the music room, he looked like my mere existence disgusted him. He’s cruel and cold, but his eyes are vulnerable. Ryder presses up against me, his fingers tangling in my hair, sliding over my scalp while his teeth nip at my bottom lip. Goosebumps spread over my skin, and desire courses through me.
His lips press against mine, his wicked tongue slipping between my lips, searching, circling, teasing, and all I can do is open. Let him in, let him taste me, take his hate, his lust, his anger. Because I feel it bubbling just under the surface. He groans into my mouth, his erection pressing against my stomach, making me ache and sink and fall. Oh, I fall so fucking hard as his tongue invades me in a way no man ever has.