COLE
So… it turns out I have a knife kink? Blood kink? Being tied up by someone I can’t fucking stand kink?
I don’t know. I just know I somehow managed to come from her slicing into my dick, which is sore as hell now, by the way.
Harley was the one who found me tied to the bed, and rather than help me straight away like any good friend would, he shouted for the others to come in and take a look at me before they finally freed me.
Assholes.
I kicked them out of my room as soon as I was free from the restraints and ball gag, but they’ve reveled in my humiliation all morning. They don’t know exactly what happened, and since they all somehow managed to miss the cum that was drying on my stomach, they have no idea how far things went.
No orgasm in sight.
I’m not sure how the fuck I’d explain that one.
Noah tried to convince me to go to the dean and get her expelled, but I laughed in his face. No, I don’t give a fuckwhat she’s done. I’ll get her back myself, and to do that, I need her to stick around.
I’m no further forward in figuring out who she is or where she came from. But one thing I do know is that she’s fucking insane.
And that I like it.
She probably thinks this is over between the two of us, but it’s far from it. She just upped the level of intensity. No more posting shit on the internet about her or tormenting her in small ways. No, all that seems to do is irritate her, and I need more than that. I need her anger. Her fury.
I’m going all in now, and she’ll regret ever coming here.
I’ll make her regret being fucking born.
“Cole,” the barista calls out, and I grab both coffees from the counter before making my way to our table.
Gracie and I meet at this coffee shop once a week to catch up. Though if it were up to me, she’d be living with us and this weekly coffee date wouldn’t be necessary. I tell her as much as I take my seat, and she rolls her eyes.
“I’m not living in an apartment full of guys. You’d all suffocate me, and I’d never be able to do anything without one of you watching over my shoulder.”
My hackles rise. “What is it, exactly, that you’re wanting to do without us knowing?”
“Nothing,” she grunts. “But do you really expect me to believe that you wouldn’t want to know my every move each time I left the cottage?” she asks with a raised brow before pouring sugar into her cup. I cringe as she does it, since she ordered some caramel fancy crap coffee that’sprobably already sweet enough, and I take a sip of my espresso.
“I see your point,” I admit. “But if you ever change your mind, you?—”
“Can come and live with you?” she interrupts. “I know, and I’m grateful for you.”
I nod my head in acknowledgement, about to ask her how classes are going, when something in my periphery catches my attention.
Or someone.
I look over and see Lana just as she reaches the counter. This is the first time I’ve seen her since three nights ago when she broke into our place. I shift in my seat, still sore from her antics, and send a glare in her general direction. Not that she notices, she’s completely in her own world as she waits in line to be served, staring off into the distance.
I take her in—she’s dressed in all black. She’s swapped out those god-awful heeled, steel-toe boots for a pair of black Converse, and her hair is down today. Her hair looks like a tangled mess, as though she couldn’t even be bothered to run a brush through it, yet she manages to pull it off.
How does she manage to pull everything off? She’s not even wearing makeup, and she still looks better than most of the girls in this place. I hate it.
How do I find her so attractive, yet such a fucking nuisance at the same time?
I’m not sure if I want to fuck her or strangle her.
That’s a lie. You want to do both.
I shake my head, and I’m about to revert my attention back to my sister when something in Lana’s expression stops me. Her gaze sharpens as she stares at the corner of the room, towards the hall that leads out back. She glances around alittle, completely missing me, and abandons the line she’s in, instead heading down the hall that she was staring towards.
