But maybe it’s not because of the violence. Maybe this is because of something else.
Nope. I’m not going there.
Soon after, Levi takes the upper hand. Their view isn’t so clear with them rolling on the ground, wrestling to get the upper hand.
I don’t have to see the blackness in Levi’s mood to feel it.
It permeates the air like a suffocating, impenetrable smoke.
He’s not only fighting Jerry, he’s out for blood.
“Stop it!” I shout when I’m partially out of my stupor. “Stop!”
Neither of them listens. If anything, their punches and grunts become more violent. At this rate, they’ll kill each other.
My gaze strays both ways, looking for anything that will help in stopping the two bulls.
When I find nothing, I put two fingers in my mouth and siffle loud.
Jerry is the one who looks up first. Levi punches him in the face and stands up as his opponent falls to the ground.
When the rugby player pushes to his feet, obviously ready for another round, I speak in a loud, clear tone. “I’ll call the principle.”
“Fucking bitch,” Jerry mutters under his breath while dusting his trousers. “Can’t see what’s so special about her.”
“What did you just say?” Levi is in his face in a second.
Of course Levi doesn’t give a shit about the threat of the principle. I’m starting to learn that he doesn’t give two fucks about anything.
I stride to them and place a hand on Levi’s shoulder. “Let him go, he’s not worth it.”
Jerry gives a lopsided smirk that smears the blood from his lips over his teeth. “Listen to your slut, King.”
Before I can see the gloom on Levi’s face, I feel it. No, I breathe it in the air.
It’s there in the quick rise and fall of his chest. The clenching of his fists. The stiffness of his shoulders.
I stare up at him and gulp audibly.
His gaze is completely black.
Dark.
Deadly.
It’s like he can kill Jerry and not feel an ounce of guilt about it.
He starts to push me away, but I block his path so my back is to his front and I’m facing Jerry.
“Isn’t your father Judge Huntington?” I ask in my coolest voice.
“Good you know about that.” Jerry continues smirking and I gloat in the fact that I’m wiping it off. Once and for all.
“I suggest you go home and ask your daddy about the money he embezzled from the crown court. Because guess who has evidence? That would be my own daddy. Now, if I go home and tell him Judge Huntington’s loser son harassed me, who do you think will pay?”
All Jerry’s smirks disappear and his face turns ashen. I bet he thinks no one knows about his father’s extracurricular activities. It’s not that Dad tells us these types of things, but I overheard a phone conversation the other day — when I was sneaking out. The information stayed with me, especially since the said judge has been appearing more and more on TV.
Jerry casts a fearful glance at me before he curses and flees the scene.
“Arsehole.” I turn around about to curse Levi, too, but I’m transfixed by the slow, but clear lighting of his eyes.
The black has dissipated and is now replaced by his usual hooded expression.
He’s jacket-less and tie-less. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone as if he couldn’t bother to do them. Under the lights, his tanned skin contrasts against the white shirt. Due to his fight with Jerry, he has dust all over him and two bruises against his cheek and collarbone. His right shoulder is drooping to the side like he can’t keep it upright.
Even in his dishevelled state, he still looks every bit the gorgeous bastard.
“For the record, I don’t need you to defend my honour,” I say with mock sarcasm and push past him to the exit.
He winces.
Walk away.
Walk the hell away.
“I don’t like it.” Levi’s voice stops me in my tracks.
I slowly turn around to face him. “You don’t like what?”
“When others touch you.”
My lips part, not knowing how to respond to that.
He takes the decision away when he strides in my direction and looms over me like a damn wall.
“From today on, you won’t let anyone touch you.” He says the words like he has every right to.
“Let me think about that...” I mock. “Decree denied, your majesty.”
“Astrid,” he growls, his hand clasping around my arm. “You don’t want to fight me on this.”
I’m momentarily stunned by the way my name rolls off his mouth in that slight raspy tone.
It’s the first time he says my name, and there’s something disturbingly intimate about that.
“As if I’m allowed to fight you on anything else?” I ask.
“You are.”
“I am?”
He’s taken me by surprise too many times in one night, it’s starting to give me whiplash.
Is this another game?
His arm shoots forward and surrounds my waist in a steel hold. I don’t get to react as he yanks me towards him, flush against his chest.
His hard muscles flatten my breasts and I can’t help the way they tighten against the material of my shirt and jacket.
Both my hands push at his shoulders, even when my insides liquefy at his warmth.
“Fight like that, princess.” He pushes my legs apart with one leg and settles his thigh between my sensitive ones until an unmistakable bulge pushes into the hollow of my stomach. “Do you see what your fight does to me?”
Smothering heat flushes me from head to toe as I stare up at him with widened eyes.
He’s... hard.
For me.
That bit of information throws me for a loop. A whooshing sensation tingles at the bottom of my stomach.
“Levi…” it’s supposed to be a warning, but it comes out like a helpless moan. I lick my lips to try to smother it.
“Fuck, princess.” His eyes spark with lust and that black look. “Stop doing that or I’m bending you over right here right now.”
I want to think he wouldn’t do it, but this is Levi King. Impossible doesn’t exist in his dictionary.
I attempt to push him away, but I freeze.
Completely.
Thoroughly.
Levi crashes his lips against mine.
His lips are on mine.
He’s kissing me.
I’m too stunned to react as his firm mouth takes claim of mine.
His free hand wraps around my nape, keeping me completely at his mercy.
My nails curl into his shirt as he moves his lips against mine. He’s not only kissing me, but he’s also demanding I kiss him back.
“Open.” He nibbles on my bottom lip. “Up.”
I keep my mouth into a thin line. On one hand, an unhinged part of me wants to let go and drown in the moment — even if I might die afterwards. On the other hand, the logical part can’t forget that this is freaking Levi King.
The same King who’s been making my life hell.
I hate the bastard. I shouldn’t be kissing him or even entertaining the idea.
But a taste won’t hurt.
Would it?
“Open. The. Fuck. Up.” With each word, he bites down harder on my lip, sucking and pulling it between his teeth. I’m surprised he didn’t draw blood with his merciless tug.