“So am I, Darlin’. You’re mine. The sooner you get used to it, the better. Hope you’re still on birth control because next time, I’m coming in that juicy cunt.”
She scoffed in disbelief.
Turning her on the spot, my arm ended up draped across her shoulders once more as I pulled the door open. This time, Sierra didn’t try to break free from my grasp, which I interpreted as a positive development.
I ducked my head, my lips mere inches from her ear. “I’m gonna take that as a yes. Just so you know.”
Either she had accepted her fate — for now — or she was still caught up in her post-orgasmic haze. I was wearing her down, slowly breaking down her walls, piece by motherfucking piece.
She still looked perfect, of course, but there were subtle signs of our adventure. Her hair was a little mussed, her lips swollen, and her cheeks were still flushed so prettily.
My smile turned smug. I couldn’t help it. This was how it was supposed to be.
As we approached the living room again, I felt her stiffen next to me, almost imperceptibly.
“What’s wrong?” I peered down at her, noticing the way her jaw clenched, her face turning impassive.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. Something’s absolutely—”
“Sierra. Fancy bumping into you here.”
Tearing my gaze away from her, I eyed the dude who had so rudely cut me off, my distaste growing by the second. He was a frat boy incarnate, a walking fucking stereotype — polo-shirt, khaki shorts, and leather flip-flops included.
O individuality, where for art thou?
The distaste seemed to be mutual, which satisfied me more than it probably should’ve. His eyes roamed over my tattoos, my jewelry, and finally drifted to Sierra.
Immediately, my hackles rose, wanting to force him to keep his fucking eyes off what’s mine.
Making sure an easy smile still graced my face, I began to trace small circles just below her collarbone, where my hand rested. His gaze snagged on the movement before flickering back to me.
“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m David, Vice President of Alpha Chi Theta.” Making sure he was meeting my gaze, he added, “Sierra and I used to date.” Then he held his hand out.
I almost snorted, my grin turning slightly predatory. If that was how he wanted to play it, fine.
Stretching out the hand that had been in Sierra’s pussy minutes before, I closed my palm and squeezed. Sierra’s head whipped around as she stared up at me in shock, my smile remaining firmly in place.
It shouldn’t have brought me this much joy to notice that his hand wasn’t nearly as big as mine.
Or the way he winced, even though I wasn’t even close to using my full strength. Or the fact that his smooth skin was unquestionable proof of a man shying away from hard, dirty work.
Fucking pretentious little pussy.
“Dom.” I nodded, offering no further information, and he didn’t seem to know how to handle me.
He flashed us a fake grin, his shit-brown eyes slightly narrowing. “You transfer here or something?”
Both Sierra and I snorted before she shook her head in amused disbelief. “Or something.”
His expression turned mocking. “Wouldn’t have thought she’d appeal to … well, someone like you.”
I raised an eyebrow, my expression still friendly, but rage was coiling in my insides, like a snake rearing its head to strike. Sierra stiffened again, any trace of happiness vanishing from her face.
Motherfucker.
“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you,” I drawled, pulling Sierra in front of me, my front plastered to her backside.
