“What now?” My voice is filled with dread.
She shows me her phone. More specifically, Aiden’s Instagram profile and his last post.
Someone took a picture of us at an optimal angle while Aiden sat me on the table and ravaged my mouth. My legs and arms are wrapped around him and his body is moulded into mine.
The caption: Mine.
“No, he didn’t,” I whisper, not knowing if I’m mortified or just plain shocked.
“Oh yes, he did.” Kim grins and fans herself. “Consuming is the understatement of the century, Ellie. He looks like he was eating you alive.”
“We’ll be late for class.” I cut off her stupid grin and head in the direction of our first hour.
Kim falls in step with me. “No wonder Bitch Queen felt threatened and showed her claws. King never had a girlfriend and he sure as hell never posted a picture kissing someone.”
Huh. That feels… good.
In your face, Silver.
As soon as we enter the class, I halt. The chatter of the four horsemen ripples in the air. Of course. They’re all here.
Aiden leans back against his chair, his legs crossed in front of him and his fingers interlace across his abs. His entire attention is on me as if he’s been waiting for my entrance. The clouds of his eyes are gleaming with both triumph and a darkness so pitch black, it knots my stomach.
He got what he wanted.
The whole school thinks I’m his girlfriend. Once again, he took the decision from me, and this time, I’m freaking pissed off.
It might also have to do with what Silver said. The confident way she said it with grates on my nerves.
And because it hurts, I need to inflict it back.
I walk to Aiden with wide steps. Ronan grins like an idiot. Xander looks through the window, appearing lost somewhere. Cole who’s been talking to Aiden stops speaking when I stand in front of Aiden’s desk.
I plant my palm on it and lower myself to meet him point-blank. He arches an eyebrow as if challenging me.
Game on, dickhead.
I say in a clear voice for the whole class to hear, “I’m not yours.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
When I told Aiden I’m not his, I expected anger.
Hell, I expected his mean side.
Because that’s what bullies do, don’t they? When pushed, they push back.
Instead of letting go and showing his true self, his lips curve into a mocking smile. “That’s not what you were saying when you came all over my face. Twice.”
My jaw nearly hits the floor.
No.
He didn’t just say that.
Kim gasps from beside me and murmurs break all over the class. No one has the audacity to speak up in front of Aiden.
Ronan is the only one who laughs, nodding, “I second that. I heard the screams.”
Fuck my life.
Aiden opens his mouth again, but I silence him with a hand against his lips. Whatever he has to say will ruin me more than he already did.
If he appeared triumphant before, he looks absolutely smug now. He raises his brows in a silent dare, challenging me to deny it.
The bell rings and Mrs Stone comes into class. I let go of Aiden and plop into the seat in front of him because it’s the only one available. My movement are flustered as I retrieve my notebook and pens.
Warm breaths tickle my ear before Aiden’s smooth voice whispers, “Try denying that you’re mine again and I’ll fuck you in front of the lot of them to prove it.”
My eyes widen as I grip my pencil tighter. He disappears from my back all too soon as Mrs Stone continues her lecture.
I’m struggling to school my features and chase away whatever picture Aiden just painted in my head.
Damn him and his dirty mouth.
The space between my legs heat, and I rub them to chase the sensation away.
It doesn’t work.
On the contrary, the friction becomes unbearable, almost like when Aiden had his mouth on me, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, his tongue and fingers thrusting in and out of me while —
“Miss Quinn?”
I startle at Mrs Stone’s voice and my cheeks feel on fire.
“Are you all right?” Mrs Stone’s voice sounds from above me.
“What?”
“You look flushed. Do you need medical care?”
“I’m fine.” I grip my pencil tighter, wishing the earth would open up and swallow me.
When she leaves, a low gravelly voice murmurs, “Certain memories coming back to you?”
“Shut up,” I hiss.
I don’t have to look behind me to see Aiden’s smug grin.
After the two morning classes, I gather my books, wave at Kim, and head to the locker room, opting to skip lunch.
Aunt told me to buy my special food from the grocery store, but I forgot this morning.
A tall frame steps in front of me before I round the corner to the locker room. I hate how my heart flutters upon seeing him. I hate how perfect he looks in the team’s jacket and how his long legs make him appear like a model.
I hate everything about him from the slight sway in his dark hair to the kissable lips to the sharp jawline that no eighteen years old should have.
“I hate you,” I tell him with all the pent up frustration I’ve been feeling this morning.
“I think you don’t, sweetheart, but you wish you did.” He reaches for me and pinches my cheek. “You’re adorable as fuck when you’re all flushed.”
He strokes a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture is so caring and gentle, it almost crumbles my defences.
Then I remember that he’s a sociopath and he could be doing this just so I’d let my guard down in front of him.
“Why do you never wear your hair down?” His fingers massage my skull like he’s fascinated with it.
“I just don’t like it.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Why?”
I don’t know myself.
And his caring act won’t distract me from his demonic soul.
I wiggle away from his hold. “What were you thinking about earlier?”
He goes back to stroking my hair like he can’t stop himself from doing it. “Earlier?”
“In class!”
“When Mrs Stone caught you fantasising?”
My cheeks heat and I turn my away. “That’s not true.”
“Liar.” His voice drips with a seductive drawl. “You were reliving last night, weren’t you? Was it the part where I had my tongue inside your hot, wet pussy while you screamed my name and —”
“Aiden!” I place a hand in front of his mouth. Mortification tugs at my stomach as I search around to see if anyone heard.
He removes my hand but doesn’t release it as he cocks his head to the side. “Why are you embarrassed about that?”
“Are you serious? Of course, I’d be embarrassed.”
“I fantasised about you all night, do you see me embarrassed about it?”
“You’re a different species.” I doubt he even knows what embarrassment means.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t turn this into a you versus me argument.”
“Then what is it about? Enlighten me.”
“Own your sexuality, Elsa.” He grips my hand in a possessive hold. “You sure as fuck have an abundance of it and I don’t plan to let it go to waste.”