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“You’ve been nothing but trouble since the very first moment you stepped onto the school grounds.” His eyes were hard as he held my gaze, daring me to fight back.
“And you’ve been nothing but an arrogant ass,” I said, holding his gaze.
“Speaking of ass,” he said, licking his lips and taking a daring look up and down at me. “I bet that ass of yours has been around a time or two.”
Saying nothing, I simply held his gaze.
“Tell me,” he went on. “Who exactly did you have to sleep with to get in here? I mean, it’s clear that it’s not on merit. So... who is it? Mr. Grundy from administration? Mr. Knowles from human resources? Or is it an affiliate out in Texas? Mr. Abrams?”
I had no desire to justify my being at that class. If he wanted to insinuate that I’d slept my way to a scholarship, that was his business.
“Just seeing the way that you parade your big, round tits around, you enjoy male attention, don’t you? And showing off that firm, plump ass that any red-blooded man would want to drive his hardened dick into... come on. Who was it? Who did you let fuck you? Or who’s old dick did you suck on to get here?”
Disgusted by every single word that came out of his mouth, I slapped him so hard, a trickle of blood trailed down from the corner of his mouth.
“You crazy girl,” he growled as he brought his hand to his bleeding mouth.
I immediately regretted the move. As angry as I was and as out of line as he was, I knew that it was wrong to strike him. I instinctively reached out to touch the unfortunate wound.
He immediately took a step back. “What’s with you? Because you’re from Texas? Always so violent?” He groaned and ran his tongue over the cut on his lip.
“I’m really...” I began.
Making quick and angry motions, he opened the door and walked out, leaving me just standing there, bewildered.
Biting my lip, I stared out at the empty classroom, examining myself more than the space around me.
No, I silently answered his question. I wasn’t a violent person. And, no. That wasn’t my Texan upbringing. I’d been raised to be kind and understanding, all while never allowing anyone to step all over me.
“You draw out the worst in me, Mr. Axel King,” I said into the empty room.
But the vision of his face filled the empty space in front of me. He’d been so close to me, so enticing. But the look of hurt on his face. Not just from the sting of the slap, but he’d seemed hurt deep inside, as if I’d slapped his soul.
His ego had quickly recovered, however, and he’d resumed his hard and uncompromising stance, just before turning to leave me.
I was a little ashamed about what I’d done. Damn it. I’d known men. Yes, for one so young, I’d learned how men could be. They saw a pretty girl and they somehow came to believe that they owned her. They seemed to believe that because they wanted her, they should have her.
There were days when it was a curse... inheriting my mother’s beauty queen looks. My mother had been Miss Amarillo, Miss Northern Texas, Miss Texas and Miss Southwest. Her long legs, curvaceous body and thick, long blond hair had helped her to win all of those pageants, but also her quick wit, big heart and kind soul. She might have looked like a Barbie doll, but she had so much more to offer.
And so did I.
Pulling in a long, deep breath as I turned to leave the room, I resolved to turn over a new leaf. I wasn’t going to hold Axel’s arrogance and misguided ego against him. I was going to look at him as a wounded bird who needed help and understanding, not a slap.
After all, that was the kind and southern thing to do.
Chapter 8
