More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Everything hurts when it comes to Theo. My heart. My pride. My confidence.
I like the way he takes what he wants without giving a shit about me or how I feel. It’s like he’s trying to prove a point, though he’s far from successful. Because this is what I’ve been craving. I don’t want to be treated like a child. Like a breakable doll.
Fucking break me, Theo, I want to beg. But I don’t. I let him kiss me. Let him take what he wants. Let him try to prove it isn’t what I want, when it’s the opposite. I’ve craved him for years. And now…here he is. Kissing me.
Because he doesn’t deserve them. Not my voice. Or my thoughts. Or my feelings. After tonight, he’s made one thing very clear. He doesn’t deserve a single piece of me. Not anymore. And I’m too stubborn to ever forget it.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: So, when I leave this glowing review, do I mention the part where I couldn’t take my eyes off you, or should I focus on the way your hands felt against my leg?
He grabs my throat and angles my head up at him, demanding my full attention. I gulp but hold his gaze.
She’s so fucking…infuriating. But gorgeous too. Like a tornado. Or a storm. A tsunami, maybe.
Colt’s right. She’s gonna be the death of me. But what he doesn’t know is she’s been killing me for years. Long before tonight. Why would my future be any different?
“I wouldn’t touch Blake if my life depended on it.” “Well, at least the feeling’s mutual,” a strong, feminine voice interrupts. Our necks snap in its direction. Blake’s standing at the entrance of the gym, her arms crossed over her white LAU tank top.
“So, you could feel the chill of the Ice Witch too?” I counter, my tone thick with sarcasm.
When I’ve been given a glimpse of the boy I fell in love with. The one without a stick up his ass.
“Purple.” With a laugh, I repeat, “Purple?” “Yeah. It’s a recent realization.
“I think you want a guy who pushes you. A guy who eggs you on. A guy who doesn't let you barrel over him. Someone who looks at you like an equal. Someone who challenges you.”
“You want a guy who can break you, Blake,” he rasps, his voice low and gritty and shooting straight to my core. “One who grabs you by the throat and squeezes as he enters you. One who treats you like you aren’t made of glass. You’re different than other girls.”
But I never wanted to be treated like a doll. I never wanted to be put on a pedestal or looked down upon simply because I had a vagina instead of a penis. I wanted to be an equal. A rival. Someone taken seriously. Someone who could give as good as they got. And all I want in a partner is exactly that. Someone who accepts me. Someone who looks at me like I’m sexy and feminine even when I’m covered in grass stains from a quick game of football in the quad. Is that so hard?
A shit ton of orgasms and a memorable college experience is all he wants. And yet, here I am, fawning over the bastard. I mean, I already knew the truth, but the confirmation is a harder pill to swallow.
But meaningless sex? It’s gotta feel better than this. This…rejection that isn’t even rejection because he was never mine in the first place.
“I’m gonna do whatever the hell I want because you don’t own me, Theodore Taylor. You didn’t own me when we were playing Strip Pong, and you sure as shit don’t own me in this room, either. Right now, you’re nothing more than a means to an end, and you have something I need.”
“So, I’m just a dick to you?” My cock hardens against the swell of her ass, and it takes everything inside of me to keep from grinding it against her. “It’s exactly what you are,” she breathes out, a tremble racing down her spine. “Now, are you gonna fuck me or not? Because I won’t ask you again.”
I think she’s wanted this for about as long as I have, despite this being her first time, and if she isn’t going to protest, then I’m sure as shit not going to question her on it anymore.
Shit, she’s hot when she’s bossy.
I drink it up. Her taste. This moment. The feel of her on top of me. The sounds she makes. The way her breath is unsteady and her skin is damp. I soak it up like a dry sponge, knowing it’ll be the only time I'll see her like this. Feel her like this.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she orders. My gaze flicks to hers. “I’m not––” “Like I’m breakable,” she clarifies. “Stop looking at me like I’m breakable. Use me, Theo. Because we both know it’s what I’m doing to you.” Fuck. If she wanted to stab me in the chest, it would’ve hurt less.
But she’s right. She is using me. And I refuse to let this be anything more than what it is. I’m the fuck boy. The good time. The no-strings-attached left wing who isn’t looking for anything more. And I’m not about to start now.
And she clings to me the whole time, refusing to let me go while refusing to look me in the eye, either. It’s the latter that gets under my skin.
“Look at me, Blake.” “Let me enjoy––” “Now.” I smack the outside of her thigh just beneath her ass. Her eyes snap open, and her lips part on a moan as she looks up at me, her stare glazed with surprise. “You’re with me, Blake. Not some random dick. Not Burrows or Austin or fucking Tukani. Me.” Her hair is wild, splayed across the bare mattress like a halo of fire as she touches my cheek and whispers, “You.” Satisfied, I dig my fingers into her ass and thrust harder. With her green eyes focused solely on me, I push us over the edge.
Also fitting, considering who I let take my virginity. But it’s weird. Grappling with the connection I could’ve sworn I felt when he was inside of me with the realization of who I felt said connection with. It’s Theo. Not Teddy. Theodore Taylor. He’s done this a hundred times. With who knows how many women.
Maybe it’s why he stopped and forced me to look at him right before I came. Because he wanted me to remember who I let claim said v-card, and it sure as hell wasn’t any of his teammates. It’s because of the bet, I remind myself. Hell, I’d almost forgotten.
I’m not sure my emotions can stick around after the night I’ve had. I need to clear my head. I need to remind myself of the parameters of my relationship––or lack thereof––with Theo. Because I’m not naive enough to think sex automatically means a relationship. Especially not with the man of the hour. I know this. But knowing it and feeling it are two very different things. I need…a minute. Or an hour. Or a lifetime. Not that I’ll get it. Theo is Colt’s best friend. He isn’t going anywhere. Not in the long run.
I just had incredible sex. Sex most girls would dream about. And I wasn’t an idiot when I asked him to sleep with me. I knew the deal. I understood the terms. He doesn’t get attached. So neither should I.
“You know we’re talking about Theodore Taylor, right? The guy never makes something more out of his one night stands. It isn’t in his DNA. Besides, I don’t want anything else, either. Why waste my time on a relationship doomed to fail? It isn’t worth the effort, especially when my plate’s already as full as it is. And now that I’m away from him and his stupid pheromones that like to drive me crazy, I think it’s for the best.”
I still feel off. Guilty. Like I took something that didn’t belong to me. But would I take it back––would I not touch her again––if given the chance?
She’s been running through my thoughts on a constant loop––has been for years––but after sleeping with her, it’s been even worse. Like she’s haunting me. Taunting me. Wracking at my guilt. Tainting even the smallest things. Like breakfast––I started craving Cinnamon
I want to know how she’s doing. I want to talk to her. Ask about her day. If she hates me. If she thinks about me the same way I think about her. But I can’t do anything because she left. She fucking flew out of the house like a bat out of hell after we had sex, and if that isn’t a sucker punch to the nuts, I don’t know what is.
Fuck that, Theo. I’m not blind. I’ve known you’ve had a thing for her since we were kids. Why won’t you own up to it and date her for real?”
And those eyes? Damn his eyes. I swear they can see into my soul. It isn’t fair. What he does to me. How he makes me feel.
Me: I’m not sure if you’ve been hit in the head one too many times, but I’m not your girl. Theo: You’ve always been my girl. Sorry it took me so long to see it.
“I’m here, Blake. I’m here, and I’m fighting. Can’t you see it?” he spits. “I want you more than hockey.”
And I’m tired. Tired of seeing what we could have slip through my fingers no matter how tightly I’ve tried to hold onto it. Instead, I let him go.
“You’re right. Lionesses don’t get enough credit, Blake. Lions wouldn’t be the kings of the jungle if it weren’t for their badass women by their side. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn't for you. Your support, your love and example, they’ve meant more to me than anything else in the world. And I can guarantee none of the lions on the ice tonight would be there if it wasn’t for their badass lionesses who have their backs, either. So, thank you. For being you.”
