King of Hawthorne Prep - Page 92

“Did you really think you could run from me?” a familiar voice growls against my ear, sending a cascade of shivers down my spine.

Actually, I did. Not forever, but at least for a few days.

What I didn’t expect was for him to find me hiding out at his house on Lake Michigan. After my parents sprung the news on me, I needed time to think. At first, I had shuttered myself away in my room, refusing to speak with anyone. Dad finally knocked on the door and said that Keaton had offered their vacation home if I wanted to escape for a while. Even though I had been reluctant to accept the offer, the need to be alone outweighed any of my protests.

So I packed a bag, threw it in the trunk of the G-wagon, and took off mid-afternoon.

Since there isn’t school on Monday or Tuesday because of the holiday weekend, my parents were quick to suggest I extend my stay for the entire week. This is the first time they’ve ever encouraged me to miss my classes. Both believe strongly in the power of education being the springboard to my future. Guess that tells you what they think my future now holds.

I blink the sleep out of my eyes and stare up at a pissed off Kingsley.

Well, guess what?

I’m as angry as he is. Maybe more so. He can take a flying leap for all I care.

With a burst of strength, I struggle against the punishing hold he has on my wrists. Even though it’s futile, I attempt to buck him off my chest where he sits, pinning me to the mattress with his heavy weight. He doesn’t budge an inch. The guy outweighs me by a solid hundred pounds. There’s no way I’m going anywhere until he’s ready to release me.

“How did you find me?” I growl.

“I tracked your phone,” he admits casually as if that kind of stalker behavior is no big deal.

“What?” My movements still as I process his words. “How the hell did you do that?”

Silvery moonlight filters in through the window, illuminating the smirk as it settles across his handsome face. “That’s for me to know and you never to find out.”

Damn him!

Frustration floods through me, and it renews my energies to dislodge him. “I hate you,” I bite out. But the sad truth is that I don’t hate Kingsley. Maybe I want to, but I don’t. Not yet, at least.

His face dips to mine before he bites my lower lip, sucking the fullness into his mouth before releasing it with a soft pop. “You don’t hate me, Summer.”

“I do,” I gulp in a breath. “You lied to me!” It was all a game.

“Maybe it started out as a lie, but that’s not how it ended.”

“More lies,” I whisper brokenly, twisting my head away from him. “After this, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to trust you.”

Instead of answering, his teeth scrape against the curve of my jaw before he peppers soft kisses along the delicate column of my throat. An unwanted tremor slides through me.

“Stop.” How can I be so furious with him and yet crave his touch like it’s the very breath needed for survival? It’s so fucked up.

“Give me one good reason why I should stop.” Even though his hands continue to shackle my wrists, he moves further down my body.

“Because,” my voice trails off on a whimper as his lips slide over my bare chest.

When I had arrived earlier, the beach house had been closed up and stuffy, so I’d opened the windows, wanting to feel the fresh breeze, and enjoy the sound of the lake crashing against the shoreline. Since the evening had stayed warm and I was alone in the house, I’d decided to forego pajamas. There’s something delicious about the feel of silky sheets against your naked body.

That choice has now come back to haunt me.

A groan leaves his lips as his mouth closes around my nipple before sucking it deep into the warmth of his mouth.

Gahhhhh!

A war erupts inside me. While my brain cries out that this is wrong, my body vehemently disagrees. And it’s my body that is winning out as a hot flood of arousal settles in my core. Within a handful of minutes, I’m arching beneath him, restless for more contact.

When he lifts his mouth from me, a reluctant whimper of protest leaves my lips. God, but I hate myself for it. More than that, I hate him for breaking through my defenses so easily. I should be stronger than this. I should be able to resist him.

“How much could you hate me if you ended up in my bed?”

It takes a moment for the sexual haze to clear and his words to sink fully into my brain. Heat stings my cheeks because he’s right. I am in his bed. And I can’t say that it was an accident or coincidence either. Maybe when I walked into the house and looked for a room to stay in, I didn’t immediately realize where I’d ended up. But the moment I looked around, I knew it was Kingsley’s space. His stamp had been all over the decor.

Tags: Jennifer Sucevic Romance
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