His Trouble Maker
Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Chapter 11
JESSICA
“Grayson-”
“Shut up,” he growls.
I shove at his chest–hard–but it’s like pushing against a wall of muscle wrapped in rage. He doesn’t budge. Instead, he catches both of my wrists in one hand–fast, rough–and yanks them up over my head, pinning them against the cold
metal shelf behind me.
The shelf rattles violently. Something tumbles off–a can? A box? I don’t know. It crashes to the floor like thunder, but I barely hear it.
I’m too busy trying to breathe.
His other hand grips my jaw–firm, possessive–and angles my face to the side like he’s done it a thousand times in his head.
“Stop talking,” he snarls.
Then he licks me.
God.
From the curve of my neck all the way up to just under my ear–slow, wet, claiming–and I swear I feel it in every nerve, every fucking inch of me.
I shiver.
My stomach flips.
Heat coils low–deep and fast and wrong.
“God, you taste…” he groans, voice wrecked. “Fuck.”
His mouth drags back down–kissing, sucking, biting–and I can’t even think straight. It’s too much.
“You don’t get it, do you,” he mutters into my skin. Another kiss. Another bite.
My fingers dig into the metal shelf behind me like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. “I’ve waited for this,” he groans. “Dreamed of this mouth. This neck.”
He angles me again, dragging his tongue over my pulse, and I swear I moan like he just touched between my legs. My breath stutters. My hips twitch.
I’m not even trying to hide it.
“Grayson-
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12:43 Wed, 30 Jul Gr
Chapter 11
“So soft,” he rasps. “So fuckin‘ sweet.”
His hand slides under my shirt. Rough fingers against bare skin. I gasp again, my body arching into him on instinct.
“I hate you,” I whisper.
His tongue slides up my throat again. “Lie better,” he growls.
blink. Hard. The memory rips away like it burned me–like my body still feels him pressed against mine, mouth hot and filthy against my skin.
Asshole.
edge of it like a goddamn statue–arms crossed, shoulders
Grayson fucking Westwood.
more lap,” he
In
I freeze.
who keeps
kidding me?” I snap, turning with
Seven.
are begging. My shirt is soaked. And my pride? It’s
up beside me,
piss him off earlier,”
“I didn’t
groans above
are watching this mess and seriously considering throwing hands. I feel a drop hits my shoulder. Then
air shifts–wet, thick, and
Wilkinson,” Grayson calls
hot in my ears.
Then make it eight
2/0
12:43 Wed, 30 Jul
Chapter 11
step forward, ready to snap, ready to tell him to shove his order right up his smug Alpha ass–but he cuts me off before
you can be a fucking example of what a weak omega looks
he probably meant them to. Or maybe he knew exactly what he was doing. I freeze where I stand. Logan mutters something under his breath-“Dude, what the fuck?“–but I don’t hear the rest. Everything else fades. Because the second Grayson
throat tightens. My chest burns. My eyes start
here. Not in front of all these people. Not in front of
something worth chasing. And now he’s standing there like I’m just some pathetic trainee he gets to humiliate in front
I won’t give him the satisfaction. I won’t let him see me
each word sharp and
anyone can say a word, before the tears can
first drop of rain slaps against
“Fucking weak?”
edge of the field, lungs on fire, heart slamming like
“Fuck you, Grayson!”
the whole goddamn
it.
Weak?
ever fucking wanted. After gripping my wrists like he couldn’t decide whether to kiss me or strangle me. After looking at me
I’m
Bite me, Alpha.
Better yet–choke on it.
the track again, splashing through a puddle so hard water hits my thigh. I don’t
sound of his voice. The heat still between
30
Chapter 11
I let him touch
I liked it.
to parade me like some pathetic, mouthy
show him weak. I’ll show him
face
spitting in his mouth after I make him
eyes burn. I blink hard, once, twice, don’t let the tears fall.
Not today.
my thighs are still clenching like
bastard,” I snarl under my
if he comes near me
My breath snags.
at my boot like the forest
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