Page 42 of Lessons in Cruelty

A crease appears between her dark eyebrows, her lips slowly sealing.

I slide my hands over the polished wood as I take a seat on the edge of the bench. She leans away, but her ass stays right where it is as she watches me uneasily.

“I’m the only Hillsider who’ll dare sit this close to you, know that?”

Haven’s eyelashes flutter, then a touch of color bleeds into her cheeks. “You fucking arrogant pri⁠—”

I make a grab for her, and it must take her by surprise, because she barely moves before I’ve got my hand latched onto the back of her neck. She gasps, her eyes squeezing shut at my touch only to fly open a second later so she can glare at me.

She hunches her shoulders, drawing her legs even closer to her body.

“Poor little trailer trash Haven…” I purr, using my other hand to brush a strand of hair out of her face. “Must have thought you hit the fucking jackpot when they gave you that grant.”

Pride floods her eyes, making them sparkle. “I earned that grant.”

My laugh makes her cheeks grow even redder. “Please, Heavenly. They took one look at your sorry ass and saw the perfect poster child. The tragedy of such a pretty girl trapped in the slums of Riverside. Every time she tries to crawl her way out, she just keeps falling back in the shit. Or on another dick.”

Her slap catches me off guard.

Then she’s dragging my fingers off her neck and scrambling to get out of the bench. I grab her arm she tears it free. But she’s caught when I snag the back of her shirt and twist the fabric, dragging it tight against her body.

She twists and starts slapping at my hand, but I pull at her shirt, dragging the two of us together over the leather bench. Her body goes stiff when our thighs crash into each other.

I recognize the sudden shift from angry to terrified. As soon as she opens her mouth, I know she’s going to scream. But my hand muffles the sound, just as I resist her struggles with an arm slung around her waist.

We’re facing each other like lovers, and if it weren’t for the hand on her mouth, it might have looked to any bystanders that we were about to kiss.

But a quick scan confirms that the nearby stacks are still empty. We’re deep in encyclopedia territory, so the chances of someone passing by are slim to none.

Not impossible, though, especially if the do-gooder librarian comes to check up on Haven.

Haven, who’s so close I can smell her. I swear she still smells like apple pie. A touch of cinnamon, apple, sweet caramel, and for some fucking reason, that makes my cock stir behind the soft cashmere of my sweats. Or maybe it’s her proximity.

It’s been years since I’ve been this close to a girl.

So close, I could kiss her.

Which I almost did last night.

What the fuck possessed me to lick apple pie off her face, I don’t know, but Christ, it was a struggle not to turn that weird act into something else. Her skin felt so soft under my tongue, and even now, I can feel those pillowy lips pressed to my palm.

“Kai—”

“Shut up,” I whisper, pressing the tip of my nose against hers for a moment before sliding my cheek against hers as I move my mouth to her ear. “You want to know what I remember? I remember you on your knees in the mud, crying. Begging.”

There’s a muffled sound, maybe a protest, maybe something else. I’m enjoying the feel of her body pressed to mine too much to draw away so I can look into her eyes.

“Stop.”

“I remember the sounds you made when I used to tie you up.”

I can feel her heartbeat fluttering against my chest.

So desperate. So terrified.

But she’s not fighting as hard as she should be…the Haven I knew could scratch and claw her way out of anything.

Her breath hitches when I lean in.