Chapter Two

~BRIA

“Cat got your tongue?” His smirk reaches his tempting eyes, deepening the dimples in his cheeks. “It better not. I find your tongue very amusing.”

My thighs press together instinctively, and I hate myself for the reaction.

“Leave me alone,” I grit out, shoving my hand against his chest.

Instead of backing off, he steps closer, completely eliminating the remaining distance between us. My chest collides with his. At six-foot-five, he effortlessly dominates my personal space, towering over me until he's all I can see.

His gaze sweeps over my face, taking in every detail.

“No.”

Can he feel how fast my heart is hammering against my ribs?

Of course he does.

He knows. No girl this close to him could ever hide how easily he affects her.

I fucking hate it.

This is the first arrogant jerk who touched me and ruined my body in ways that left me feeling filthy, yet desperately wanting more before I started buying some sinister toys to keep me sane.

We didn't even have full sex that night. It was a normal Friday night. As the fat girl who focused on her studies all her life, I decided to have fun once and joined a party just to feel alive, foolishly joining a game of spin the bottle. The bottle had landed on him.

He dragged me into a dark room where we were supposed to just spend five minutes kissing.

I’d assumed he wouldn’t touch me. I was the fatter then. So when his lips slammed over mine, stripping away my innocence, it caught me completely off guard.

I can still feel how slick my panties got when his fingers slipped between my thighs, whispering dirty praises about how pretty I looked that night. I didn't believe a word of it.

He was drunk, and by the next day, he walked past me like I was a complete stranger.

So no, he wasn't the one who took my virginity.

That distinction sadly belonged to some guy after high school prom. It was mediocre at best. Damon hadn't even been at prom—he’d transferred schools right before graduation.

Maybe if he’d stayed around... who knows.

Chloe wasn't the only ghost from high school to follow me to college. Damon did, too. It baffled me how a rich bad boy like him ended up at this university, though rumors claimed he’d beaten a kid half to death, forcing his family to move him.

The first time I spotted him on campus, he was getting his dick sucked by one of our female professors. I’d been on my way to discuss an upcoming project when I stumbled upon them.

That's the day I even knew we were in the same classes.

“I still can't believe that cow slapped cake in my face!” Chloe’s shrill voice echoes across the quiet parking lot, making my heart leap into my throat.

My eyes widen in panic. “I need to go,” I whisper, shoving against Damon’s solid chest and trying to bolt down a side path.

“Slow down.” He catches my wrist.

I try to twist out of his hold, but his fingers tighten around my skin.

“Hide here.”

He pulls me toward a narrow, shadowed alcove against the side of the athletic building—a tight space that feels far too small for a body like mine.

“I can't fit in there,” I whisper harshly, pulling back.

“Why? Scared of the dark?”

'No'. I confess in my mind. I'm scared of suffocating because they were right—I really do look like a cow. “Pfft, no. In fact—”

“Shut up.” He steps into the alcove, pressing me back against the cold brick wall.

"You shut up." My eyes stay glued to him as he shifts his focus toward the parking lot, watching Marcus and Chloe approach. I try my possible best to ignore the heat radiating from our closeness and how short I feel under him. I'm 5ft7.

“Babe, forget about her. Let’s just enjoy ourselves tonight,” Marcus’s voice carries through the stillness. The wet sound of them kissing makes my stomach turn, followed by Chloe’s mocking giggle.

“Fine,” Chloe purrs. “How about we celebrate by you wrecking me in your car? You know how much I love it in the backseat.”

How much she loves it? God. This isn't the first time they’ve fucked in his Jeep.

Tears prick the corners of my eyes, burning behind my lids. Damon glances down at me, and I brace myself for the arrogant smirk I know is coming—the one that will finally shatter the last of my composure.

Instead, his jaw tightens.

“You really had to date a piece of shit like him?” Damon mutters, his voice low, harsh, and laced with an unexpected edge.

Is he angry at me—or for me?

​“Like you’re any better,” I snap back, my voice barely a whisper, though the bite in it is real. “You’re just as bad as he is.”

​“Please,” he scoffs, rolling his shoulders as he leans in a fraction closer. “Don’t insult me, cupcake. My taste in women might be questionable, but your taste in men is actual trash. You really chose the campus golden boy with zero personality and a fragile ego?”

​“At least I didn’t choose a walking red flag who sleeps with half the student body and the faculty!” I glare up at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

​“Hey, leave the faculty out of this,” he smirks, his green eyes glinting in the dark. “Besides, if you’re so annoyed with my face, maybe I should just leave you here.”

​“Yes, please,” I shoot back without missing a beat. “Leave.”

​He doesn't budge. He just stays right where he is, his broad frame blocking out the rest of the world and trapping me against the cold brick.

​My mind immediately flashes to the trek back to my residence hall. It’s a forty-minute walk across campus, up the steep incline by the science block, and my feet are already aching inside my shoes. The night air is getting colder, and the thought of walking alone while trying not to cry makes my stomach sink.

​“My car isn’t far,” Damon says softly, reading the sudden shift on my face.

​I blink, thrown off by his tone. “What do you mean?”

​A slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, his lip ring catching the dim light.

​“If you want to stay here and hear how Chloe loves riding your boyfriend’s cock, be my guest...” he says, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly purr.

​“Or...” I add, feeling he hasn’t finished his sentence.

​“Or you can join me on my ride.”

​I almost scoff out loud. “You mean your death bike? That’s a fat no.”

​His eyes take on an amused look, taking in my reaction with far too much satisfaction. I raise a brow, exasperated by whatever secret joke he thinks he’s playing.

​“What?” I demand.

​“Nothing,” he says, his smirk broadening. “Just glad to see another obsessed fan of mine.”

​“Are you nuts? I’m not—”

​“Oh, Marcus, go faster...” Chloe’s high-pitched moan rings through the quiet parking lot, slicing through the air like a blade.

​I squeeze my eyes shut and twist my face, a wave of nausea rolling through my stomach so violently I feel close to throwing up.

​“That’s such a fake moan,” Damon says, looking entirely unimpressed. “I’ve seen the guy’s dick in the locker room. Seriously, why do you girls lie about him fucking good?”

​My jaw drops, my brain stalling for a second as I stare at him in the cramped darkness.

This man.

“He’s average at best,” Damon says, rolling his shoulders as he glances down at me. “And clearly, he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing if that’s the performance he thinks is worth bragging about.”

He continues, “So this is what we are going to do here. Ready to hear me?”

I nod slowly.

“You either stand here and listen to budget theatre,” He leans to my ear, lips brushing the shell. “or are you getting in my car with a much better fuckboy?"