He thinks I have power?
I’m untouchable?
A small laugh comes from me, some of that confidence I’ve lost along the way reemerging. The king of Camden sees me…he sees me as someone I never have.
He touches my hair, just barely. “You walked in Monday with all your hair cut off and a different color and, fuck, I was sad.”
My heart thuds. “Really?”
“Mmmm. When I sat behind you in class, I used to touch it with my pencil, and you never even noticed. You smell like vanilla, do you know that?”
I’m afraid to say anything, to stop him.
“Every day I’d get a little braver and barely touch my pencil to your shoulder, your arm. I was afraid to want you, then hurt you—”
The auditorium door creaks open and we hear two voices—teacher voices.
“We’re not supposed to be in here,” I hiss.
He grabs my hand and pulls me behind the black curtain. Somehow I end up in front of him, his chest to my back with the heavy curtains inches from my face. I feel the hard muscles of his body, the brush of his hips at the small of my back. His hands land on my shoulders then fall. I inhale.
The air around us crackles. He’s right there. Against me.
I can’t breathe, and it isn’t a bad thing. It’s intoxicating.
“Is there a back exit?” I whisper.
There’s a small slit in the fabric and he reaches around me, his bicep teasing my cheek as he peeks through. “Don’t worry. It’s Maxine and the janitor, Carl.” His voice is ragged and gravelly.
He played with my hair—
“How are you on a first-name basis with the staff here?” Am I really trying to have a conversation with him when all I want is…
We hear smacking sounds.
My eyes flare. “What are they doing out there?”
His hand lands on my shoulder after parting the curtain again. His fingers toy with my hair, and my body clenches, sparks igniting and giving me goose bumps.
“Making out.” He growls as if speaking the words is torture. His hand slides to my nape, barely a touch.
“No way,” I whisper, trying to gain control and pretend his body isn’t plastered to mine, every single inch of delicious muscle.
“Look for yourself,” he says, his lips brushing against the skin of my ear. He moves the curtain so I can see, leaving a small sliver of a gap so he doesn’t have to hold it.
Sure enough, Maxine and Carl are in an embrace near one of the seats on the far right toward the front of the stage. He’s a small man, a bit rotund, but he knows his stuff, his hands on her boobs. Go Carl.
I can’t even think straight, but somehow I say, “Her bun is down and he’s got some amazing mutton chops. Dang, now he’s unbuttoning her shirt.”
“Hmmm, they look like they’re enjoying it,” Knox says, his right hand moving to my hip like it’s a homing beacon.
I watch Carl and Maxine with envy, hearing her breathy little gasps when he cups her breast. He moves his lips down, takes a nipple in his mouth, and sucks.
My mind is dirty, so dirty, because I’m picturing Knox doing that to me.
“Do you like watching them?” he murmurs.
“Maybe.” I melt into him, feeling more of him, his cock that’s most certainly hard. My head eases back and rests on his shoulder.
“Tulip, fuck, what are you doing to me?” he mutters, his hand tightening, his other one grasping my other hip.
“I’m not doing anything,” I gasp out.
“You’re killing me,” he rumbles in my ear. His tongue licks at the top and bites down, and I moan.
We still when Maxine’s head comes up and she looks around the auditorium, squinting in the darkness as if she knows we’re watching.
“Now you’ve done it. We’re gonna get caught,” he whispers.
“You’re the one who bit my ear,” I murmur breathlessly, excited and scared, and…
“Did you like it, Tulip?”
“Yes.” I close my eyes. I can’t see his face, and I wish I could.
The bell rings, and neither of us moves. Carl and Maxine do though, straightening their clothes and murmuring to each other.
“We have to get out of here,” I say after a while when neither of us has spoken. “I have a class.”
“I can skip. It’s just gym.”
“You can’t miss football.”
“I will.” His nose presses into my hair, and my breath hitches. He’s being so careful with his little touches, but I sense the coil of tension buzzing inside him.
I just…
I’m afraid if I turn around, this spell will be broken.
“Truth or dare, Knox?” I whisper after Maxine and Carl exit the auditorium.
His hands slide up my arms and land on my shoulders, kneading the muscles there. “You want to play games, Tulip?”
“Yes.”
He tilts my head to the side and kisses my neck with the softest touch, and I’m languid in his arms. “Dare.”
It’s quiet in here, so quiet.
“You were supposed to say truth,” I mutter.
He laughs quietly against my skin.
“Fine. Let me turn around then. That’s your dare.”
He grows still, his hands tightening. “Why?”
“Rules of the game. Let go and let me face you.”
“I changed my mind. Truth it is.”
“Did you pay for my housing?” I ask huskily.
A long pause, then, “Yes.”
God, he’s so… Why have I never seen his…kind nature? How could I have been so blind?
I yank myself out of his grip and flip around to stare at him.
“Tulip…shit…you ask for too much from me.” He shifts us so we aren’t pressed so tightly together, yet he leans his forehead against mine.
I count his lashes, the dark curls thick and lush like a girl’s. I trace the line of his granite jaw. My eyes linger on the scar on his face.
“Truth or dare, Knox.”
“Isn’t it my turn?” he pushes out, his gaze wary.
My chest is tight, an ache there. “No. This is my game.”
“Truth, then.”
“What’s between us?” My voice shakes. “Since last year, there’s been this connection and I can’t explain it.”
His eyes close briefly. “I know how it feels to walk into a room and feel as if no one really knows you. So do you.”
I stare up at him, running my eyes over his broad shoulders, that powerful chest that’s so still right now.
“Truth or dare, again, and you can’t say truth this time. My rules,” I say.
“This isn’t a very fair game.”
“Just do it my way this one time, and I’ll owe you one.”
He inhales sharply as if he knows what’s coming. His hands cup my face. “You are pushing all my buttons right now, do you know that? I’m barely keeping my hands off you, Tulip, and once I let go—”
“Truth or dare, Cold and Evil. You pick, and you better choose the right one, damn you.”
“Dare.”
“Kiss me.” I run my finger over that slice through his upper lip.
He shudders, his eyes lowering, pupils dilating. “I don’t kiss on the mouth, but you’re looking at me like…like…” His voice grows huskier as he takes a step closer until finally my chest is against his. I sigh into the hardness of the power I feel underneath me, the friction of his jersey against my button-down.