Chapter 5

HaveI mentioned how much I hate Roman Rush? Well, scratch that, I despise him. But I despise myself even more because as much as I know this is a bad idea, I'm arching into his hand, silently begging him to get me off.

"Say it, Lux." His deep voice sends a hot wave of desperation crashing over me. "Or I walk away."

My entire body feels like it's been plugged into an electrical socket, my blood buzzing, my heart rioting, my clit pulsing. When he fucked me just a few minutes ago, I was so damn close to coming. So close I could practically taste it. Then he pulled away and left me wanting.

"Please," I say, forcing the word past my lips. It takes every ounce of humility for me to say it, but I'm dying here. It's a matter of survival, at this point.

He leans in, a smile stretching across that hideously beautiful face. "That's a good girl."

His fingers delve into me, several at once, and I nearly scream. Pumping in and out of me, he uses his thumb to stroke my clit at the same time, applying that glorious pressure right where I need it most.

It's scary, actually, how well he knows my body already. Like opening a safe—two to the left, four to the right, and bingo! I'm already panting, lifting my hips, pushing my mound into his hand, my head tilted back against the wall.

"So sweet." He brushes his lips across my cheekbone, then pulls back to look at me. "Now tell me what I do to you, Lux."

I clamp my mouth closed and squeeze my eyes shut. I can't tell him that. It feels too intimate, and with every forced confession, he's inching closer and closer to the real me. And I can't allow that. He's too dangerous.

He pulls his fingers out of me, hesitating at my entrance. "Tell me," he says again, always so fucking demanding.

"I'm consumed by you," I whisper honestly. Again, it's survival. I can deny the words later.

He rewards me by pinching my nipple, causing a strangled cry to escape my lips. Oh, God. The quick pinch of pain spikes through me and goes straight to my throbbing clit.

"I need you," I confess, encouraged by his reward, and desperate for release. He has me exactly where he wants me, and I know it. I should be ashamed, or demand he stop again, but I can't. I'm too far in, too close to heavenly oblivion.

"That's right, baby," he whispers, touching his tongue to my sensitive nipple. "You need me. Remember that." Then he uses his teeth to bite down at the same time pushing his fingers back into me, deep and hard. "Only. Me."

It's like an out-of-body experience. I'm trapped by Roman; surrounded by him, consumed by him, owned by him, and it pushes me over the edge, into the void. My climax hits me so hard that my strangled cry echoes off the walls.

With my wrists still bound, I grab him, my hands fisting his dress shirt, pulling him close as wave after wave of heat ripples through me, from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my curled toes.

Roman's cheek is pressed against mine, his warm breath bathing my neck as he continues applying pressure to my clit, his fingers drawing out every last drop of pleasure from my body.

"That's it, baby. Give it to me," he breathes. "Give me your fucking soul."

He has it. My God. I'd give him the breath in my lungs if I could. As the final waves of pleasure zip through my veins, I'm panting, and my body slumps, my fists loosening on his shirt.

When he removes his hand from my body and leans back into a crouch, then tugs at the belt around my wrists, releasing me. The second I'm free, I rub my wrists where the leather bit into my skin, and caused red marks.

I swallow, my body still buzzing, and when I look up, there's a smile stretched across his face that brings me harshly back to reality.

"Now try telling me it's just fucking," he says, that cocky smile sending anger rushing through my blood.

I scramble to my feet awkwardly. I'm fully naked with nothing to grab onto, so it's less than elegant, but, honestly, I'm too pissed to be self-conscious about it.

Every warm and fuzzy feeling I just had for Roman Rush died with my orgasm. "You're an asshole," I say as he rises to face me, his large body still blocking my only exit.

That infuriating smile doesn't waver. "An asshole who commands your body with the flick of his wrist."

Clenching my jaw, I lift my hand and with everything I have, I slap him hard across the face. His head whips to the side, and a red mark instantly blooms across his left cheek.

He brings his head back around slowly, a hand pressed to the angry red mark. And still that smile hangs on his fucking face. "I'll take that as confirmation." He grabs my robe off the floor and hands it to me. I yank it out of his hand, covering my naked body with the jumble of fabric.

He walks toward the door, but right before he reaches it, he half-turns to address me. "You're giving me a hell of a chase, Lux, but sooner or later, the fox always catches the hare."

"Okay, enough with your stupid rabbit and hare analogies!" I scream. "Maybe you're the hare! Maybe you're the one being hunted! Have you ever thought about that?" But he's already gone, the hidden door clicking shut behind him.

Ugh.Asshole.

Finding my bra and my torn dress, I rush to put them on—no panties, thanks to Roman—but I'm just going straight back into my room anyway. Once I'm dressed, I find my heels and slip them on, leaving my robe and hood in a heap on the floor.

I brace myself for who or what I'm going to find on the other side of the secret door, but when I step over the threshold, into the study, there's only one person there.

Jackson is leaning against the sofa, his muscular legs crossed in front of him. He's looking down at his phone and glances up as soon as I enter the room, straightening. "You ready?"

"Ready for what?" I ask, walking past him.

"I'm walking you to your dorm room."

I spin on him. "No, thanks, I'm good."

I'm not good, actually. I'm terrified of walking back to my dorm room alone at night, especially after Tyler just threatened me openly. But I figured I could just ask a couple of the other consorts to walk with me. They don't know me at all, but I'm their stupid campus queen, right? Don't they owe me some small degree of loyalty?

I don't know the answer to that, but I'm hoping.

"Yeah, it's not an option," Jackson says, his large frame following me out the door and down the hallway. "Roman made himself pretty clear."

"Whatever." I'm tired, and I don't feel like arguing.

The hallway is empty, thank God, but as we pass the living room, I can see through the open door that it's bursting at the seams. That's where everyone went after the tribunal, apparently. And I can't help looking for Roman in the brief second I pass by. I don't see him though, and I just keep heading toward the front door.

The guy at the door hands me my phone. How he remembers it's mine, I don't know, but I'm not stopping to ask questions. I take it from his hand and step onto the porch. It's cold out here, and I shiver as I make my way down the steps, and down the long, creepy walkway that's flanked by gargoyles.

I unlock my phone to see if Bree texted me. That's my ritual now. Every five minutes, check my phone obsessively, waiting breathlessly as I pull up my messages. Nothing.

Jackson catches up to me in just two strides, coming up beside me. "Don't worry about Tyler," he says, incorrectly guessing at the direction of my thoughts. "He doesn't have the balls to follow through with his threats."

"Great," I say, flatly. "I feel better already. Is that why you're following me back to my residence hall?"

He shrugs, walking next to me casually. "Tensions are running high tonight. Better to play it safe."

"And I hate to bring this up, yet again, but isn't he also the one you guys think tried to run me down with his car?"

It's just wild that they keep saying this guy is harmless, and yet, they're taking all of these precautions. There's definitely more to all this Tyler shit than they're telling me.

Another shrug. "We don't have any real solid evidence it was actually him. It's just a theory, at this point. But we're looking into it."

"Cool," I say as lackluster as I possibly can. He'll excuse me if my faith in the Sacred Sons and their sleuthing skills is lacking. They're basically just a bunch of half-drunk frat boys with trust funds. The fact that they think they can "look into" anything is comical.

We're already halfway back to my dorm when he brings up the dreaded subject. "Roman really isn't that bad, you know."

I shake my head, laughing to myself. "Really? Because just yesterday, he warned me about the depth of his darkness and all that shit." I pause. "What's that saying, ‘When someone tells you who they are, believe them?'" I raise my hand. "Done. I'm a believer."

Especially after what I just witnessed in the ceremony room.

"He did save your life, right?"

Seriously, he"s going to bring that up now? Roman is the reason I was nearly killed in the first place. Well, I'm assuming. What other reason could there be? It's either Tyler or another really pissed-off Burning Crown member who tried to mow me down.

"And I haven't shoved a knife into his cold, black heart, so in my book, that makes us even," I say.

Jackson laughs. "He said you were spicy."

I flash him a look. "I'm not usually spicy," I say defensively. "Roman just kind of brings it out of me."

We approach my building, and he opens the door for me. I step in, and he follows me to the elevator. I have to admit, it's nice to have a huge guy like Jackson walking me back. He's beautiful like they all are, but he has a broody vibe that gives him an air of mystery.

I'm sure he gets all the girls without even trying. And honestly, if things were different, I might try to pull him into a dark corner myself.

But he's a Sacred Son, and for me, that key detail is like kryptonite to my attraction. Except in Roman's case, I guess. He refuses to let my attraction for him die. In fact, now, it's more alive than ever. Unfortunately.

"Tell me something," I say, deciding to broach the topic that's been on my mind since yesterday. "And please be honest." We're standing inside the elevator, and I glance over at him. "Does Roman or anyone within the Burning Crown have anything to do with my friend's disappearance?"

He looks at me, surprised. "Is she actually missing? I thought she ran off with some guy. That's what I've heard."

"I know she's been taken, or forced to leave," I say, unblinking. "And I need to know if Roman is involved."

Jackson leans against the elevator wall, relaxed, and shakes his head. "Roman would do a lot of shit, but he's not going to kidnap some chick he doesn't know. Why would he?"

I shrug. "I don't know, to have a reason for me to need him," I answer. "To keep me close."

Jackson laughs. "He doesn't need to kidnap some random chick for that." He slides me a knowing look. "I think you know that already."

He's referring to our sexcapades, and I don't bother to correct him. What's important is that Jackson looks sincerely baffled by my question. He would never betray his brothers and tell me something I shouldn't know, but my gut tells me he's being truthful.

That's good enough for now, I guess.

We get to my door, and as I'm unlocking it, I feel compelled to thank him for walking me back. Blame it on the manners my grandmother drilled into me as a kid, but not saying "thank you" in any given social situation literally makes me want to twitch.

"Thanks," I say, clearing my throat as I open my door.

He nods in acknowledgment. "Listen, uh, Roman has been through a lot in his life, but especially over the last year. He's got some shit going on."

I flash him a look. "Yeah, who doesn't? That's not an excuse to be cruel."

Jackson backs away, hands in his pockets, headed for the elevator. "When this is all over, you'll understand."

When this is all over? What is that supposed to mean?

I'd ask, but I'm tired and sore and sick of trying to untangle the Burning Crown's cryptic little messages.

I make a promise to myself right then and there: the literal second I set eyes on Bree, I'm cutting all ties with Roman Rush and this fucked up town…