“Yes, but also the other things you fixed.” I look at him impactfully.
His cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. I think I’ve seen luxury brands sell that same shade under the name ‘screaming orgasm.' "I don't know what you're talking about."
“Really?” I quirk a brow.
“Really.” He looks everywhere but me, and it’s adorable.
“Justin. We both know you fixed my car, and I thank you for that. You’re probably the only reason I haven’t slid off the road somewhere.” And then I go off on a limb here and touch his shoulder. It freezes and instantly bunches under my palm.
“Don’t touch me.” He growls, and my hand drops just as bile rises up my esophagus. I’m nauseous all of a sudden. Well, that was a clear message.
“Ah, okay. Sorry.” I all but run to the door, begging the universe to swallow me whole as soon as possible.
“Shit.” He says, but I’m out of the door and already running down the stairs, nearly breaking my ankle when I miss a step. “Kayla.” He calls out.
But I'm not listening. This is so incredibly embarrassing. Like, oh my-gosh-I'm-leaving-this-planet-right-now embarrassing. Blood roars in my ears from how fast I run, and I can't hear a thing. I feel a strong arm wrap around my waist, and I scream bloody murder. It pulls me into a hard chest.
“Stop yelling.” Justin hisses into my ear, and I calm down a notch. “For fuck’s sake, stop flailing, Kayla.”
But I don’t stop, and I keep trying to kick him, so he lets me go. When my foot finally lands on his shin, he growls, throws me over his shoulder, and heads back to the apartment. When we’re upstairs, he walks to the couch and drops me on it. I land with a loud thump, my hair falling over my eyes, and I can’t see anything.
While I’m trying to clear my view, Justin growls like a wild beast. “The fuck did you run for?”
“Seriously?” I hiss, trying to pull myself up, but he leans over and pushes me back, and I land on the couch once again. “Seriously, Justin? You just hissed at me and told me not to touch you. I only offered a friendly gesture. I don’t think you’re capable of changing, no matter how much I wish you would. You’re still an asshole! Every time I start to think you’re not, you prove you are!” I try to stand up again, but he pushes me back.
Standing in all his six-foot-two glory, he clenches and unclenches his fists. His nostrils flared. His eyes are wild.
“Do you think I can tolerate your touch when I’m like that?” He gestures at himself.
“You tolerated my touch just fine yesterday.” I look at him from my low position.
“Oh, no. I wasn’t mad like that. No.” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Now I’m mad.”
“For touching you? Seriously? You got so mad over me touching you? What the hell, man? Really.” I can't say I'm not offended because I am.
“Oh no.” He puts one knee on one side of me. “That’s not why I’m mad.” He then puts his hands on the back of the couch, framing my head, and leans closer. “I’m mad at you for doing something I told you not to do.” Then he brings his face closer and whispers. “Kayla.”
“What?” I croak.
“Oh yeah,” He licks his lips, and my eyes dip to watch his tongue. “I told you not to talk to him. Not to spend time with him. And here you are, flirting,” he inhales deeply, “mingling your scent with his, rubbing on him like you’re some cat in heat. You’re fucking lucky you still smell like you and not him.” My heart stops beating. I’ve never seen Justin so possessive, but now, he is an alpha pissing on his territory.
And I fucking love it.
“What are you doing, Justin?” I whisper after I lick my own lips, unconsciously wetting them.
"I'm thinking the same thing, Kayla." He dips his head and quickly presses his lips to mine in a butterfly-like kiss. "What am I doing? I'm still fucking mad at you. At him. At fucking Ashley."
“Oh,Ashley.” Horny clouds over my head dissolve in a second at the mention of her name, evaporating completely into oblivion.Way to go, Justin.
“Yeah, I hate her.”
“Just like you hated me, but still wanted to fuck?”
His chuckle is dark. “I never hated anyone as much as I hated you.” He plants his other knee on the couch, and now he’s straddling me, but holding his weight off. “Just like I never wanted to fuck anyone as much as I wanted to fuck you.”
My breathing quickens. He admitted he hated me the most, but I didn't hear that part. No, all I heard was that he wanted tofuckme the most.
“And I’m still so fucking mad at you for letting the fuckface near you. So mad.” He strokes my cheek with the back of his fingers. “Should I punish you for that?”
