Chapter Three

~BRIA

I stare at his outstretched hand, my mind racing.

​Stand here and listen to my man-whore of an ex, or follow another manwhore?

​Another wet, performative gasp from Chloe echoes across the asphalt, accompanied by the rhythm of Marcus’s Jeep rocking on its suspension. Nausea twists sharp in my gut.

​“Where’s your car?” I ask, ignoring his offered hand.

​Damon’s smile widens into a victor’s grin, like he’s just claimed the grand prize in a game only he is playing. He lets his hand fall back to his side without missing a beat.

​“Let’s go.”

​He turns and maneuvers stealthily around the back of the athletic facility, keeping to the shadows. I fall into step behind him, keeping my head low and my footsteps soft until the sounds of Marcus and Chloe finally fade into the night.

​We reach the far end of the lot, far away from the overhead lamps, where a sleek black Dodge Challenger sits parked in complete darkness.

​I pause, blinking at the muscle car. “You drive a Challenger?”

​“What, were you actually expecting a motorcycle?” Damon asks, unlocking the doors with a double click of his key fob. He glances over his shoulder, his lip ring glinting as he throws me a sly look. “Don't be disappointed, Cupcake."

​“I’m disappointed by my overall choices tonight,” I mutter, pulling open the heavy passenger door and sliding into the leather seat.

​The interior smells of expensive cologne, cedarwood, and leather. Before I can even pull the door shut, Damon slides into the driver’s seat, the powerful V8 engine roaring to life with a deep rumble that vibrates straight through the floorboards.

"Can you turn some light here?" I ask, seeing how dark the inside is.

"​Why?” He tilts his head, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “You think we're gonna have fun in the dark or something? I mean, if you're down for that, we could definitely have a little fun—”

"What's wrong with you hockey guys and sleeping with any girl in sight."

The bite in my voice catches him off guard. The playful glint in his green eyes falters, and he blinks, taking a beat before he speaks. “What?”

"​Oh, you heard me,” I snap, the bitter taste of my own anger burning in my throat. “I was minding my own business, trying to smash my cheating boyfriend's car, and you decided to swoop in like you're some Prince Charming. And now you want to pity-fuck me?"

Damon’s jaw tightens. The easy composure vanishes, replaced by a dark, dangerous stillness. He doesn't pull away, but the casual vibe in the car instantly evaporates.

"Pity-fuck? Is that really what you think this is?”

"That's exactly what it is. You want to fuck the depressed fat girl and I won't let that happen."

"Okay first of all, I don't pity-fuck anyone." He reveals. "That's not my routine."

"Then what is? Looking for girls who got cheated on and seducing them into bed?"

"You really think I need to seduce anyone?" Even in the dark, I know his brow is arching like I'm saying something completely insane. Which, in truth, it is. A guy like Damon doesn't need to try—girls take one look at those green eyes and strip their clothes in an instant.

But I'm not one of those girls anymore. I'm never making the mistake of falling into the hands of another hockey player again.

"I guess you're right," I blurt out, exhaling a shaky breath. "Sorry for snapping. I'm just..."

"Thinking about Marcus," he finishes for me. "Honestly, I didn't even know you two were together until a few days ago."

"You didn't know?" My voice trembles as the next question slips out. "Doesn't Marcus talk about me in the locker room?"

Damon gives me a long, silent look—one that screams 'what do you think?—and my soul crushes a little further. What was I expecting? Our relationship wasn't meant to be revealed in the first place.

I could recall the numerous times that he never invited me for bonfire parties that students threw on campus.

"It's just drinking and guys throwing up. It's not your kind of thing." Marcus would say. "Also you don't want to see couples fucking in public. You're too holy for that."

"You're not worthy of him." Damon mutters something under his breath, but the buzzing in my ears drowns it out until I force myself to focus back on him.

"What did you say?"

"I said don't break down over a loser like him," he mutters, his expression dead serious.

"That's easy for you to say," I whisper, my voice cracking as tears sting my eyes. "I-I loved him." I still love him.

I really believed Marcus when he told me we should keep our relationship a secret. He’d said it wasn’t anyone else’s business, that private things were better left between us, and I had foolishly agreed to his logic. But the harsh truth was plain now: he was just embarrassed to be seen with me. Even knowing that, my chest aches and my heart still races at the mere thought of him, a painful reminder of how completely done for I am.

​“Love him?” Damon scoffs, breaking through my spiraling thoughts. “How long were you two even dating for you to love him?”

"Ten months. And I don't see what's wrong with loving someone within that time rate. It's easy to fall for someone that treats you right."

"And Marcus treated you like right?" Ouch. Okay he wins this time.

"He did when we started dating."

Damon clearly doesn’t like my reply. His jaw sets, a dark scowl instantly replacing his previous smirk.

“You’re still delusional, but I get it,” he comments, and a sharp surge of annoyance flares in my chest. “Having your heart broken messes you up.”

“Even though I’m heartbroken, I’m not stupid,” I snap back, my hands trembling. “Marcus did love me in the beginning. I know he did.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “He loved fucking you. You’re too gullible, cupcake. We need to work on that."

“Stop the car.” I can’t hear any more of this.

I’ve heard enough about how easy and pathetic I am for one night, and I refuse to handle another single insult. “It seems all you hockey players know how to do tonight is wreck a girl’s soul.”

“I didn’t do that. Marcus did,” he says smoothly, putting the car in park right at the edge of the dorm lot. He unbuckles his seatbelt and leans across the console, invading my space completely.

I hold my breath, swallowing hard as I force my face to stay completely emotionless, clenching my thighs tightly together under my skirt.

“You’re cruel,” I spit out.

He raises a lazy smirk. “It’s better than being a liar. Cupcake.”

My heart hammers against my ribs. As his gaze drags down my face, his long fingers reach out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. A sudden, humiliating tingle flutters between my legs, aching deep in my core.

“I love telling the truth,” he adds softly.

“You’ve told enough truth for today,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “I don’t need to hear any more.”

He hums, but doesn't pull away. He keeps his fingers on my skin, slowly tracing the line of my jaw, and like a fool, I let him.

“Oh, I haven’t even started,” he purrs, his green eyes dark and unreadable. “But don’t worry, you need your rest—and tissues—for tonight. I’ll torment you another time.”

He’s completely dreaming if he thinks there’s ever going to be a next time.

“Tissues?” I echo.

“Yes...” he trails off as his fingers pause under my chin, then drag slowly down the length of my throat. “You want to cry for that bastard, and that’s pitiful.”

“I don’t—” I attempt to pull back, but his hand closes over my chin, his grip firm as he hauls me inches closer to him.

“Damon...” I whisper his name, freezing instantly as his lips brush against the sensitive shell of my ear, his hot breath sending shivers rushing down my neck.

“Instead of crying for the guy who’s making Chloe come as we speak—” his grip tightens just enough to make me gasp, my eyes wide in the dark “—why don’t you let me give you a real reason to lose your breath tonight? Ride my cock right here, Bria... I guarantee it’s a much funner way to waste those pretty tears.”

His words linger in the close, heavy air between us, but it’s the way my actual name sounded on his tongue—spoken with that dark, low gravel—that makes my heart skip a violent beat.

I suck in a sharp breath. His hot air brushes over my neck, sending a shiver straight down my spine. Down below, a humiliating heat builds, making me turn slick and wet as my nipples harden into stiff peaks against the lace of my bra. Everything inside me wants to lean into the warmth radiating off his chest, to just give in and forget the brutal ache in my chest.

Resist, my mind screams. You can't do this

.

"I can't," I force out, my voice barely a whisper.

Damon pauses. For a second, he stays frozen against my skin, his chest rising and falling in deep, heavy breaths. Then, he lets out a harsh, disappointed sigh and abruptly releases his grip on my chin.

He pulls back, stepping back into his own space as the easy warmth vanishes from his eyes, replaced by cold steel.

"Leave," he says, his tone clipping sharp and unforgiving.

I don't wait for him to repeat himself. I grab the door handle, pop it open, and bolt out into the cool night air. I slam the heavy door behind me and march toward the entrance of my dorm, my pulse racing like crazy and my whole body trembling.

What the fuck just happened? I ask myself, wrapping my arms tight around my chest as I hurry up the concrete steps. How could I feel so drawn to a total jerk like him?

I pause at the glass doors, looking back just in time to see the Challenger’s tail lights flash red before the car roars out of the parking lot and disappears into the dark.

It’s just a game. He doesn’t care about me. He just wants to mess with my head and mock me, exactly like Marcus did.

I squeeze my eyes shut, taking a deep, shuddering breath. I am not falling for it.

I will never open my legs for Damon Black.