Fault Line (Coastal University #2)

by Ki Stephens

I can feel her wetness slicking over my fingers, and it drives me fucking wild with desire.

“That’s it,” he groans, and holy shit, I need to hear the sounds he makes when he comes. “Just like that.”

I’ve been wanting to get a taste of you since the second I laid eyes on you.

I can’t deny the way my pulse quickens at the thought of being with her again.

“If you’re struggling, I wanna be the guy you call for help. The one who can make you forget about everything else and just . . . be in the moment.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you want to be my last resort?” A smirk tilts my lips. “As long as I’m your something.”

But as always, she also looks stunning, and an undeniable wave of attraction washes over me.

Like a dog on a leash, I follow Kaia out of the building.

I sigh as she turns and walks away, feeling like a lost puppy while she disappears from view. Everything in me wants to chase after her, to make things right, and to take away some of her frustration. But for now, all I can do is stand there and watch.

After that first night, I knew I needed to have her again. And again. And again.

I spend the next hour unconsciously pestering her, with the occasional flirtatious comment thrown in for good measure. She keeps telling me to shut up and focus, but I know she’s enjoying our little back-and-forth.

I’m not sure what it is about being with her, but there’s something heavy about it, something different from what I’m used to.

Maybe it’s just in the way she moves against me, the way she always pushes back, that makes me feel a little bit more alive.

“Fuck, Kaia,” I whisper against her mouth. “You’re so fucking sexy when you take what you want.”

“God yes, I needed this,” I murmur, sliding my hand up her thigh, feeling the warmth and wetness between her legs. “Me too,” she breathes, tangling her fingers into my hair.

“Tell me you want me, Karras. Beg for it.”

“Tell me you like me, and I’ll consider fucking you.”

“You said you wouldn’t have sex with me because we don’t like each other. I already admitted that I adore you, so it’s your turn to own up.” I nudge her shoulder with my nose. “You like me, Karras. And you always fucking have.”

“So fucking pretty, baby.”

I lean down, kissing her deeply as I fuck into her. The feeling of her legs wrapped around me, the way she moans my name with every thrust, it’s all too much. I’m fully lost in the moment, lost in her.

“I just can’t seem to get enough of you,” I rasp, pressing a kiss to her sweat-damp collarbone, tracing it with my lips. “Yeah,” she murmurs back. “I know the feeling.”

“Fucking gorgeous,” I whisper as I trace her jawline with my thumb.

I can’t help but recognize that there’s something deeper brewing between us. Something addictive.

I might not enjoy admitting it, but an overwhelming part of me wishes that he was here with me now, shutting off my mind with his touch.

It’s frustrating, this sudden craving I have for intimacy. With him or with anyone. It makes me feel weak and needy, something that I’ve always prided myself on not being.

It helps, at least a little bit, to imagine that I’m not alone in this. That I have someone, someone who might actually get me, to help me forget about all my worries.

I’m here, in a hotel room, hundreds of miles away from the one person who makes me feel the most alive—a

I can’t stop thinking about her, even when I know I shouldn’t.

I also think that you got even worse sleep this past weekend since I wasn’t around. But beyond that, I think you realized that you actually missed me for once, and you really fucking hate it.”

“You wish you had me around—to fuck, to fight with, maybe more—and that bothers you.”

“Come on, Karras. Go home,” I plead, making one last attempt to cajole her. “I’ll be by this afternoon with some soup and shit.” “Don’t you dare.” “What are you gonna do about it, Sneezy? Fight me?” “I hate you,” she scoffs, but her eyes betray the truth. “No,” I say with a grin. “You don’t.”

“And for some reason, you also brought me an orchid?” I give her a wide, cheesy grin. “I hear flowers always make girls feel better.”

Besides, I already know you love the color purple.” “And how would you know that?” she asks, surprise coating her tone. “You used to rock a big purple clip in your hair.” “Freshman year?” she asks, incredulous. I scratch the back of my neck. “Yeah, I think so.” “I haven’t worn my hair up in a claw clip for over two years.”

“I liked that length on you. But this look suits you even better.”

He nuzzles his nose against the bridge of my cheek, his voice low and deep as he says, “If it wasn’t obvious by now—I kinda give a shit about you, Karras.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” I say, rubbing my thumb in small circles on her inner thigh. She rolls her eyes, shifts her body closer against my touch. “Not your baby.”

I’m not sure how much longer we spend like this, tracing the curves and edges of each other’s skin, but time slips away as the room grows darker. And when I finally push inside her, it’s pure fucking bliss. Perfect. Complete. I know this isn’t what we agreed on, but it’s what we were meant for—two halves of a dysfunctional whole.

I’m so fucking far from being content. The truth is, I want this girl for a million other reasons than what she can do for me in the bedroom.

I want to wake up with her in the mornings and not have to worry about whether or not I crossed a line. I want to take care of her when she’s sick and not have to practically force her into letting me. I want to fight with her and not have to fear that she’ll never speak to me again. I want security. Trust. To be the one person she comes to when she’s in need.

I’m falling for her, that I want more than just a casual hookup or some insignificant fling.

But that’s when it hits me. Like a ton of bricks. Like a train that just ran me over. Like a goddamn hurricane. I have a crush. An actual, bona fide crush on Holden Becker.

I mean, sure, he’s ridiculously good-looking. And he’s great in bed. But it’s more than that. It’s the way his laughter hits me right in the fucking chest. The way he touches me, soft and gentle when I need it and rough when I don’t. The way he leaves me those goofy little notes in the morning before he sneaks out.

Fucking hell. I really, genuinely like the guy, don’t I?

But as much as I try to push him away, Holden’s like a moth to a flame, drawing me in, tempting me with his golden light.

I’m acting like a lovesick teenager. But I can’t fucking help it. The boy has wedged his way so far under my skin, and now I’m not so sure I want him to leave.

“I think about you when we’re apart. All the goddamn time.”

“I’ve been thinking, and I want more for us. I think we’re already headed in that direction, but I want to make things crystal fucking clear. I want you, Kaia. And it’s for more than just sex, or . . . for good banter when I’m bored.

“You think I don’t know this already?” “You might think you do, but whatever you think you know, I’m worse,” I say, my voice breaking.

I don’t like you in spite of who you are. I like every little piece that makes you whole. I’m not getting bored of you, ever, so don’t even let your mind take you there.”

there’s not a world in which I do better than you. I want you, Kaia, every conceivable part of you. Tell me you want me, too.”