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“Wren?” No. It can’t be. It’s impossible. Please tell me this isn’t happening. Dread pools low in my gut and shoots ice water through my veins. “What?” she cries, startled. “How do you know my name?” I rip my mask off, and her face mimics mine when she realizes who I am. “Jack?!” Jesus. I just took my best friend’s little sister’s virginity. And I’m still inside her.
She starts to walk away from me, and I can’t stand that. Not again. I grab her arm and swing us around until I’m blocking the path back to the bar. “I’ll cockblock you all night, sweetheart. Just try me.”
My face dips until I’m inches from hers. Then I grin like the asshole I am. “Sucks for you that I’ll always be the guy you gave it to.” Her eyes narrow and her fists ball up. “I’d rather have given it to anyone but you.” “And I wish Cinderella had been anyone but you,” I counter. “So I guess we’re even.”
Hate is easy. Hate is safe. Hate doesn’t have me ripping her clothes off and pinning her against a wall again. It doesn’t have me losing control or risking something I swore I’d never risk again.
“Oh, and just so you know, since you told me you think I’m scary hot. You’re fucking gorgeous. Makeup, no makeup, whatever.”
But two things have troubled me. One, my dick twitches every freaking time I see her. And two, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.
“I don’t want you as my anything, Cinderella.” She pats my shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that, villain.”
“If you were mine, Cinderella, I’d take you over my knee and spank your beautiful ass red for intentionally being a brat and disobeying me.”
But that’s the problem with Wren. I want her. I just don’t want to want her. More than that, I’m drawn to her. Inexplicably. Inappropriately. Shamefully. Wanting a woman who hates you is more than just masochistic. It’s a recipe for disaster.
Katy leans in and whispers in my ear, “I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but he is looking at you like he wants to devour you. He doesn’t even seem to notice or care that Owen is like two feet from him.”
That stops me. No. Not my girl. She’s never been that. And yet that’s how she felt. Like my secret. Mine to hate. Mine to fight with. Mine to tease and taunt. Mine.
“How am I not supposed to hate you more than I already do for this? You lied to me. You hid who you were.” “You want to hate me? Fine. Hate me. Just fucking fuck me already.”
“I’ve wanted this for too long not to watch you finish now. You’re so close. Show me how beautiful you are when you come for me.”
He might have just ruined me—and I have no illusions he did—but I’ll ruin him in return. I’ll be sore, but he will be too. I’ll feel him all week, but I’ll haunt him for years.
He holds me again, whispering soft words I can hardly make out. But I swear, I hear him mutter, almost as if he doesn’t want me to hear it. “I’ll never be done with you now.” And I worry it’s the same for me.
I don’t have to, though. “No one saw us.” “Why’d you do that?” “Because I needed to taste you one last time so I wouldn’t forget, and I’ll always get it right anytime I allow myself to remember how your kisses feel.”
“Let me go.” He shakes his head. “Oh, Cinderella, I think we both know that’s impossible.” He presses against me and kisses me again. “I’ve tried to let you go so many times, but I can’t. I’m done with this bullshit. I’m done pretending I don’t want you every second of every minute of every hour of every day. I can’t let you go. Now let me take you home. Let me take care of you.”
“It’s already too late for me. Wren, I love you. I do. I’ve loved you for…” He trails off with a half-chuckle. “Fuck, I think I’ve loved you since that night at the party. I loved you even when I shouldn’t have. Even when I swore I hated you. It’s a love I haven’t come back from, and I know I never will. It’s a love that no longer gives a fuck about anything but you.”
“You own me. I want this. I want you. And I told you before, I’m tired of fighting it. I can’t fight it anymore.”
“Mine,” he whispers against my skin. “This neck, Cinderella. I’ve been obsessed with this neck for five years.” His hand plants over my chest, over my heart, and his eyes seek mine. “You. I’ve been obsessed with you for five years. Only a total masochist would fall for a woman who hates him so entirely.”
My girl. My woman. My Cinderella. My dream. The one I refuse to lose, no matter the cost or stakes.
