Chapter 13

The Housing Officeis absolutely no help at all. The woman, Janet, looks like she's been in the job for a decade or more, and after calling someone, she just shrugged and said she'd make a report about my missing stuff, then get back to me.

"So where am I supposed to sleep?" I ask after her third attempt to brush me off. "I'm on a scholarship here. The lock has been changed on my room, and I have no money. Now I have no stuff. I have nothing."

She blinks at me. "Have you tried discussing this with the person you said has your belongings? Roman, is it?"

The way she says his name tells me everything I need to know. She's in his pocket. Of course she is. Everyone at ExU is in Roman's pocket. Isn't that exactly what Wyn told me that night he chose me to be his consort?

"Fuck you," I say in an uncharacteristic burst of emotion. I'm just so sick of this. "You know exactly who he is. I'm sure you and everyone else in this office bend the knee and pay homage to the all-powerful Rush family, just like everyone else."

"Miss, I can't help you, I'm sorry." And with that, she turns back toward her computer and checks out of the conversation entirely.

I storm out of the office and head toward the bus stop with every intention of going to the police. But on the walk there, I remember how angry the guys were when I told them I'd gone to the police about Bree. This would infuriate them even more, and do I really need that kind of heat?

I should just call Skye, and ask if I can crash with her for a few days while I get this all figured out. We're not even really friends, but besides Wyn, she's the only one I know. I'd ask Wyn, but she's a part of the dark elite. She's one of them, and I don't want to put her in an awkward position.

But even if I call Skye…I have no clothes, no toothbrush, nothing. And I have like, ten dollars to my name. Maybe even less than that.

I'm waiting at the crosswalk, still considering whether or not I should file a police report when a car pulls up in front of me. It's a shiny black sports car, exactly like…I sigh…Roman's car.

My heart sinks.

The window lowers, and Roman leans over the passenger seat to talk to me. "Get in."

I don't move. I don't even look at him. I just continue to press the "cross" button and stare at the bright red light ahead.

Turn green. Turn green. Turn green.

"Lux." I can hear the impatience in his voice, but he's trying to contain it. "Get in the car, please."

Wow, he actually used the word please. I'm sure that's a first. My eyes shift to him. "Why would I do that?"

He straightens and slings his arm over the steering wheel, staring straight ahead like he's trying to gather every ounce of control he has. "We need to talk."

I shake my head. He's a manipulator. That's all he is, and I'm sure that's all he'll ever be. The idea that we could have a civil conversation at this point is laughable.

"I'm done talking," I say. "And fucking, by the way."

Just thought I'd throw that last bit in for clarity.

He opens the driver's side door, just as the light turns green. He gets out and starts walking toward me. Traffic is building up behind him, but he doesn't seem to care.

I try to walk around his car to cross the street, but he intercepts me. Curling his large hands around my upper arms, he pulls me to a stop.

"Lux, please." he looks me dead in the eye. "I'm sorry."

The sincerity in his voice disarms me, and I just stare at him for a second, shocked that he'd even apologize. Not that I believe him, but still. The actual words coming out of his mouth are something I thought I'd never hear. Cars start honking, providing a chaotic chorus to this little moment that we're having in the middle of the street.

I push out a breath, and say, "Fine. Whatever."

If he thinks he's won me over with one "I'm sorry," then he's got another thing coming. But I know getting into his car is the only way we can end this embarrassing scene, so I give in. He opens my door, then walks around and slips into the driver's seat. The light is already red again when we peel off at lightning speed.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

Hand slung over the steering wheel, he looks like the king of his domain. He always looks like that. Wherever he is, he looks comfortable and confident. But in the car, I've noticed, he has an ease about him that looks more natural, like it's just him and me, and he knows he doesn't have to put on a show.

"Why did you do it?" he asks, his voice tight.

I swallow. I have a feeling I know what he's talking about, but I still play dumb. "What are you talking about?"

The edge of his lip curls up in a sardonic smile. "I think you know what. You and Ash were together at the coffee shop." He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't. I wonder if we were spotted at the beach, too, and he's waiting for me to admit it.

I shrug. "And?"

He pushes out a breath and shakes his head like he's just barely holding back his anger. It"s entertaining to watch, actually, and I wonder just how far I can push him. "I told you I don't want you alone with a guy, especiallyhim."

I glance out of my window and watch the Pacific Ocean slip by. "You tell me a lot of things, Roman. And I'm going to be honest with you, I don't hear even half of it, so you might as well stop talking."

The car jerks abruptly to the right as he pulls off into a lookout spot on the side of the road. He cuts the engine and turns to face me. "You need to stop fighting this, Lux."

He's looking at me like he wants to either fuck me or rip me apart. Maybe he wants both. I want both. And he's right. It'd be so much easier on us both if I could just give in to him and surrender. Lux from a year ago might have done that. But too much has happened to me. Too many boundaries were crossed for me to ever trust like that again.

When I speak, my voice is small, "I can't."

He slams his hand on the steering wheel, then pulls that same hand down his face. "What the fuck am I going to do with you?"

The answer to that is obvious. "Leave me alone," I say. "Pick someone else. I'm sure there are other girls—"

He comes at me so quickly, I don't even have time to register what's happening. His mouth slams into mine, and he palms my breast, squeezing. His tongue pushes into my mouth, stealing the breath from my lungs. I don't even try to shove him off me, because, despite everything, I want this. I need this.

God,I'm so fucked in the head.

As we kiss, I claw at him, tearing the buttons off his shirt to get at his hard chest. His skin is warm and sun-kissed, and I'd bet anything it tastes like the ocean.

He grabs at me, tearing at my bra and the strap of my dress, pulling them both down to reveal my naked breast. His thumb brushes over my nipple, and it's like an electric shock moving through me. I twist my body and rise up on one knee as we frantically grope each other. It's not gentle. It's not romantic. It's rough and primitive. All the anger, and rage we both feel is being channeled into this kiss.

He pulls back so he can suck on my nipple, his hand roving over my body, finding the hem of my skirt.

When his fingers find my panties, he groans, the sound vibrating against my breast. "You're so damn wet for me."

With one hand, he moves his seat back, lowering the backrest so it's almost flat, and then he drags me roughly over the center console, into his lap. I'm straddling him now, and his hand is still up my skirt. Once I'm situated, he pushes my panties aside and slips one long finger into me.

"Oh, yes, baby," he moans as I grind against his hand. "That's it," he encourages. "Take it. Take what you need."

I feel powerful like this, on top of him, grinding against his hand. And after what happened yesterday, I feel more free with him. Like, we've both shown each other the ugly parts of ourselves and somehow survived it.

I slip my arms out of my dress and bra straps, so my top half is fully exposed. It's the middle of the day, and anyone could walk up on us, but I don't even care, that's how far gone I am. Someone can get a free show for all I care. All I can focus on now is Roman and his magical hand.

I adjust slightly, giving him better access, but the space we"re in is tight, and the hard plastic console is digging into my shin. But the pain just adds to the chaotic mix of need, and urgency. "More. Harder," I whisper, not recognizing my own voice. "Don't hold back."

Something flashes in his eyes, like a fire that's been ignited. Like everything he's been trying to suppress is suddenly released, untethered.

With a growl, he rises up and kisses me on the neck, then my breasts, biting my nipples, devouring every inch of skin he can reach. Meanwhile, he's fucking me with his hand, slipping two, then three fingers inside me.

"God, what have you done to me, Lux?" he murmurs against my breast as I undulate on top of him, forcing him to pick up his pace. A riptide of pleasure is swirling inside me, pulling me under, threatening to completely consume me. "You're so fucking perfect."

His voice is doing things to me, taking me to places I didn't even know existed between two people. And I can't handle it. Not right now. Now I just want pleasure. I don't want to think about what all that other shit might mean.

I grab his chin with one hand forcefully, and pull his head back, holding it there, so I can look into his eyes. He blinks up at me, and a feeling of power comes over me. I have this campus god at my mercy. I can see it in his eyes. In this moment, he'd do anything for me, and that look is sexy as hell.

"Shut the fuck up," I say harshly.

But habits die hard, and he opens his mouth to say something. I pull my hand back and slap him hard across the face. His fingers are still inside me, and for a second, I wonder what he's going to do. Is he going to pull away and refuse to finish me?

He blinks, and presses his lips together. "Lux…"

My hand finds his throat, and I push him back against the backrest, so he's flat. He's more vulnerable this way, and I like it. "I said shut the fuck up."

Anger flashes in his eyes, and I feel the tension in his body, but he slowly starts finger-fucking me again, and that all-too-familiar pressure starts building inside me. He watches my face intently as his thumb brushes over my clit

"Oh, yes," I breathe, nearly coming out of my skin. "Please."

One hand on his chest, my other hand is still curled around his throat. I squeeze as the power of his invasion rocks through me. He reaches so deep inside, I feel like I'm going to split apart.

His pace is fast now, and he's fucking me so hard with his hand that I'm gasping, trying to pull air into my lungs.

"That's it, baby. Move for me," he rasps, mouth open, watching me. Staring at my face. "Take it."

An orgasm crashes over me just as I lean down to kiss him. Our tongues mingle as wave after wave of heat courses through me. Every muscle in my body goes tight, then releases. It's powerful and fucking glorious.

As soon as it's over, he removes his hand from me, and I ease off his throat, lowering so I'm sitting on his lap. His cock is rock hard, like a long shaft of marble wrapped in denim. I've already come, and the nice thing to do would be to get him off, too.

But I'm not nice.

I climb off him, tugging my bra and dress straps up as I awkwardly slip back into the passenger seat. Roman rights himself, fixing his seat. To his credit, he doesn't mention the fact that I just blue-balled him.

Actually, what happens next is worse. He slings his arm over the steering wheel, and struggles to gather himself. When he finally looks over me, I expect to see the same disgust I saw yesterday, but instead, I see something much darker.

Something shifts between us. I don't even know what it is, but it scares me. It feels heavy, whatever it is.

"Say something," I choke out, pressing myself against the car door, physically placing myself as far away from him as possible.

He leans in, invading my physical space. His gaze flicks down my body, then up again. He smiles, and my heart rate kicks up about a thousand notches. "You have no idea what you've unleashed inside me."

His throat is still red from where I was choking him, and the aftershocks of that incredible orgasm are still pulsing through my body. I lick my lips. "What do you mean?"

He just laughs, and starts the engine. He doesn't answer because we both know what he means. If there was ever a chance of me escaping Roman Rush before, that small glimmer of hope has been eviscerated.

He sees something in me he wants, and he's not stopping until he gets it…