Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
A soft smile spreads over my lips and I run my tongue over them, enjoying how his eyes drop and track the movement. My eyes squish up and beam as my cheeks lift with my smile and as much as I enjoy watching the hunger grow in his eyes, the confusion is what gets me hot.
He’s not ready for me. As much as he thinks he can order me around and get what he wants, it’s never going to happen. He’s not used to girls fighting back and I fucking love it.
He’s just like all the other monsters I’ve ever encountered, only this one is fun, sexy, and predictable. He expects me to get up and start scrambling for my things. He wants me running scared, he wants me to scurry away with my tail pathetically between my legs. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought I’d start spit shining the desk so it was perfect for him to throw his feet on. Well, it ain’t going to happen. Not today, not ever.
Only a second has passed and I sense the class go still. Soft gasps are heard from all around the room while an amused chuckle from Damian behind me bounces off every wall. I lower my voice to a soft, seductive whisper and get ready to enjoy myself.
“I know you haven’t been able to tear your eyes off me since you stepped inside this room, so your oblivious dumbassery will be excused, but there’s a seat right over there, front and center.”
He can’t help but flick his eyes toward the front of the room to where the spare seat in question waits for his scrumptious ass to drop down into it, but this game is nowhere near over.
As his eyes return to mine, they come with anger that sends a thrill right through me. “Move.”
I shake my head. “Not today, sweet cheeks.”
Mr. Carver groans from the front of the room and something tells me that he’s had enough of dealing with Slade Cruz’s bullshit over the years. “Slade. What do you think you’re doing? Stop trying to intimidate Skylah and find your seat. Clearly, that one is taken and it’s damn obvious to you and the rest of the class that she’s not about to move.”
Slade glares back at the teacher and I almost feel sorry for the guy as he appears crippled with fear. Shit, is that the reaction Slade was hoping to get out of me? Because damn, he’s got to improve his game if he hopes to have me begging for mercy.
Ignoring Mr. Carver, his glare comes back to me. “You’re going to regret that.”
“Really?” I say, letting the innocence pour out of me. “Because that’s three for three and so far, I’ve never enjoyed myself more.”
His gaze narrows and I see the resignation begin to overtake. He sees this is the end. He can’t possibly push this any further without appearing like an absolute dick to the rest of the class.
Slade goes to pushup from my desk when his eyes drop down. I’m instantly reminded of the sketch I’ve been working on and I go to scramble for it, but he’s too quick. His hand slams down on the paper and dread fills me. I hate sharing my work with the world before it’s ready to be seen, but what’s worse is that as I look over the sketch, it’s clear as day that the sharp lines and delicate softness come together to make none other than Slade’s handsomely, rugged face.
Well, shit.
Why’d I have to go and draw that? I don’t think I was even aware of it.
I go to take the notepad out from under his hand but he grips the page and with a sickening grin, he tears it free from the notepad.
Fuck, I feel sick and suddenly, I have absolutely no idea if I won this round or not.
Slade scoffs as though I’m the most pathetic creature he’s ever laid eyes on and takes a step to the row of desks directly behind me. His glare shoots down at the kid and as he was expecting of me, the kid grabs his shit and scrams.
With the softest chuckle, he drops down behind the desk and not a second later, his legs are stretched out under my chair, kicking my bag out of his way.
He sits beside Damian and it takes all of three seconds for them to start up an irritating conversation while Mr. Carver desperately tries to get on with his lesson. Though I have to give it to them, at least they’re keeping their tones to whispered murmurs.
I’m more than aware of Slade behind me and I find it impossible to tune him out and concentrate on the lesson or starting a new art project. So instead, I do my best to tune in as much as I can.