Author: C.M. Owens
Category: Romance
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/37471_17
I toss a glare at him over my shoulder, and head back to the bathroom to dress in a pair of skimpy shorts and a midriff-showing tank top. If he wants to play this game, then let’s play. I’ll torture him the way he’s torturing me.
After once again braiding my damp hair into twin pigtails and dressing, I head back in. When his eyes turn on me, his gaze heats, and I instantly regret the choice in wardrobe.
“Come sit down. I don’t bite, Tria. Well, that’s a lie. But you like it when I bite.”
My whole body turns about five shades of red, but I finally go to stand beside the bed.
“Why are you doing this? You know this thing between us is twisted. Possibly psychotic. You’re an asshole. And you hate me.”
Whispers: Interactive StoriesMake your own choices and decide what happens next!
I expect him to announce his master plan to use me for whatever sick reason. It’d be better than this guessing game.
His dark smile sends shivers down my spine, and he tugs my hand until I’m falling on the bed very ungracefully. I quickly shuffle around to get away from that hard bulge he is shamelessly leaving on display, and I sit down on the bed at a semi-safe distance away from him, crossing my legs.
“You hate me, too, but you still want me. So why the hell are you being such a pain in the ass about it?”
That earns him an eye-roll. “Gee, keep talking like that, and I’ll throw myself at your feet,” I mutter dryly.
He snickers softly before reaching over and running a finger down my leg. “I’m not exactly the sweet guy with Hallmark lines coming out my ass, Tria. Nothing new. But you didn’t mind it that night. Was it really just the alcohol?”
Blowing out a harsh breath, I shake my head. “I wish. It had nothing to do with alcohol. But it doesn’t mean I want it to happen again.”
That finger of his runs the line of my calf, slowly trailing down my ankle to my foot, before he runs it across the tips of my hot pink toenails.
“Why not? Just tell me what is making you so damned stubborn about this.”
Stubborn? That’s not the word I would use to describe me at all. Borderline crazy would be a better assessment, because I should not be sitting on my bed beside the one guy who has tormented me for too long.
“Fine,” I say, annoyed with him for looking so damn good while I try to regain my sanity. “If you must know, it’s because you’re still a playground bully.”
Vaguely I’m aware that those words sounded so much better in my head—where they should have stayed.
His eyes go wide in surprise before turning amused, and he stares at me, making me feel mocked before he even opens his mouth. When his lips twitch, all I want to do is take my stupid words back.
“So what are you saying, Tria? That I’m a kid in a man’s body? That if I pull your pigtails that means I like you?”
My cheeks heat because that’s not what I meant. At all. Just to make it more embarrassing, he tugs one of my braids and grins like the cocky asshole he is. I really hate that smile.
“You can’t do that stuff,” I mumble, pushing at his chest, but finding myself unable to quit touching him once my hand finds the firm lines of his flesh. I was a little too numb to fully appreciate the way he felt the last time my hands were on his body.
Every inch of his body has definition that only the perfect can possess. Those lines at his hips form that mouthwatering V that disappears behind his boxer-briefs. His golden skin has the perfect amount of tan, and his mouth is by far the sexiest mouth on any man.
He pulls up on his elbows, then tugs me down, forcing my head against a pillow before he covers my body with his.
“Can’t do what stuff, Tria? I’ll tug your pigtails some more if it makes you blush like that again.”
His body presses down on mine, and my breaths grow ragged. It’s embarrassing when my heartbeat kicks up hard enough for him to feel it against his chest.
“I’m not Rain,” I say in a shallow breath, trying to find the will to push him away, but finding nothing but a broken resolve. “I’m not a substitute.”
He frowns as he runs his fingers through my hair, his eyes moving to the dark locks.
“Is that why you dyed your hair? Because you didn’t want to look like her anymore?”
We really don’t look that much alike, which is comforting. At least people can’t use me that much.
“It had nothing to do with her. It was for me. Now, please go. Stop using me.”
A startled gasp falls out of my lips when he surprises me with a bruising kiss, and he starts running his hands over my body, grazing the undersides of my breasts with his thumbs. When he pulls back just barely to look into my eyes, I’m breathless.