The Devastation You Reap by Tracy Lorraine
Leon
The second she steps inside the dorm, Macie looks around as if there's going to be someone here to help. She's soon going to realize that she's about to be disappointed because I saw Charlie and the two guys she lives with leave not so long ago.
It's just the two of us all alone with no one to help her out.
If I were a less patient man, I could probably drag the information I need out of her tonight. It's tempting, but that would mean missing out on the fun we're going to have together. And despite the fact she thinks she's going to be able to resist me, I already know that she won't. I'll make sure of it.
One way or another Macie Fletcher—not Smith—is going to drop her guard and open herself up to me before I play my final hand and introduce her to the man who she's willingly handed herself over to.
"Looks like we're alone," I murmur, following her deeper into her dorm. "It's a shame we've got plans or we could have made the most of it."
She spins toward me, her eyes holding mine, but while she tries to look like she's strong and in control, I can see all the cracks in her armor, her fear, and all they do is feed the darkness inside me that I'm willing to stay away, if only for a few hours.
"I don't know who you think I am, but that isn't going to be happening. I'm not that kind of girl."
"So you've said."
"I don't understand why you're even bothering. You're not going to get what you want from me." Her determination to do the right thing, to appear unfazed by me is amusing. It's going to be even better when I prove her wrong and show her how really, deep down, she's just like all the others.
"Who says I want anything?" I say, resting against that counter and crossing one leg over the other in an attempt to look casual. She doesn't need to know that I've waited years for this opportunity, that I'm more excited than I've been in a very long time at the prospect of shattering her guard and taking exactly what I need.
"Guys always want something."
"Like Micah?" I ask, battling with the jealousy that swept through me like a tsunami when I saw them together as they approached the building.
"Micah didn't want anything, we were just chatting."
"He walked you home, Macie. Dude wanted something."
"Not all guys are like that," she huffs.
Pushing from the counter, I walk toward her, blatantly running my eyes down the length of her body. She's wearing a blazer over a white shirt and dark pair of skinny jeans. She looks hot. Innocent. Just asking to be dirtied up if you ask me.
"Trust me, Red. He was more than thinking of it. Probably wondering exactly what kind of lingerie you're wearing beneath your clothes." Her lips purse in frustration. "Want to know what I think?"
"No."
I continue anyway. "I think that you try to play it all innocent, that you give off the vibe that you're wearing white cotton panties, but really, I think you're a lace girl. That this layer of modesty hides your inner vixen."
"Interesting theory, Dunn. It's also one you'll never discover the answer to."
"You wanna bet?"
"No." She once again crosses her arms, pushing her tits up and giving me just a flash of the cleavage that's hiding.
"Probably the right call, you lost the last one, after all."
A growl rips up her throat as we stare at each other. Both of us willing the other to stand down but clearly, we're almost as stubborn as each other.
"So did you want to get changed?"
"I'm not going to some fancy restaurant so you can flash your wealth and celebrity status around to try to impress me."
"It's a good thing that I haven’t planned something like that then."
She looks at me and for the first time actually pays attention to what I'm wearing.
I'm not dressed all that dissimilar to her wearing a dark pair of jeans and a black fitted shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and open at the neck. It should be enough to tell her that what I just said was true. There is no table in any expensive restaurant waiting for us.
"Fine," she says, throwing her arms up. "But only because I'm intrigued to know what you think is an appropriate date that doesn't involve flashing the cash."
"I already told you, Red. I'm not the guy you think I am."
"Pfft, whatever." She marches toward the bedrooms and I take off behind her, catching her door when she tries to swing it closed.
"What are you—"
"Waiting," I say, dropping onto the chair in front of her desk. "Nice room you've got here. Brand new car, one of the biggest rooms I've been in. Your parents must really love you."
Her jaw pops at my mention of her parents and her eyes shoot over to a photo frame on her nightstand.
"Can you wait out in the living area?"
I sit forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I check out her space. It's pretty much as I expected. Clean, tidy, and full of books. There is no sign that she does anything other than study. It makes me even more determined to show her a different side of life.
"No. Can you hurry? Unless you want me to cancel my plans and we just hang out in here all night."
Her cheeks heat, her eyes shooting toward the bed momentarily letting me know that her mind went straight into the gutter.
"I'm sure we could have plenty of fun. Especially with no one here to hear you scream—"
"We're going out," she says in a rush, spinning on her heels and pulling open her drawers, rummaging through it to find something to change into.
"D-don’t move or touch anything," she says, pinning me with a warning glare before disappearing into the bathroom.
"And here I was thinking I was about to find out if I was right about your panties."
"My panties are none of your concern, Dunn," she snaps before the door closes behind her.
I'm still laughing when I push up from the chair and walk straight over to her nightstand.
The photograph of her parents is old, no surprise there really, but despite the fact I was young when her dad played football, I still recognize him. I think most players would. He was pretty prolific before his life imploded on him.
Walking around her bed, I come to a stop in front of her drawers, my eyes tracking over every item sitting on the top, but none of it gives me any information, it's all just random girly shit and a few pieces of jewelry.
I've got my fingers wrapped around the handle of the top drawer when the bathroom door opens again and she steps into the room.
My chin drops as I take in her outfit of choice while her face reddens in anger when she realizes that not only have I moved, but I'm most definitely touching something.
"What the hell—" we both say simultaneously.
I take a step back from her dresser, too shocked by her outfit of choice to continue on my mission to find her underwear drawer.
"You're not fucking serious?" I spit, although I can't wipe the smile off my face as I stare at her. I’m almost proud, I think.
Macie might make out that she's all shy and meek, but I'm pretty sure it's an act because this girl clearly has balls.
"What? You didn't tell me what not to wear."
"A fucking basketball jersey?"
She shrugs. "What? You didn't expect me to own a football one, did you?"
My lips part to respond but I don't have any words. Instead, I stand there mute as she flips her hair over her shoulder and drops herself into the chair at her desk I recently vacated.
She makes quick work of running a brush through her hair and then applies a layer of gloss to her lips as if I'm not watching her every move, my fists curling at my sides and my cock tenting my pants.
This girl.
This fucking girl.
"Okay, I'm ready." She turns to me and holds her arms out to the sides, allowing me to check her out.
She's still wearing the same jeans, but she's teamed it with a long-sleeved white shirt beneath her purple Panthers basketball jersey.
"You look beautiful, but for the love of God, don't tell me that has some guy's name on the back.
A wicked smile curls at her lips, giving me all the answer I need before she spins and lets me see for myself.
"Motherfucker."
Before she knows what's happening, her back is against the wall and my hand is back at home around her throat.
It's not a move I was planning on using against her anytime soon. I still remember the fear that was in her eyes on Sunday night when I pinned her to the wall. The last thing I need right now is to scare her off, but the knowledge that she's trying to fire me up on purpose makes all my well thought out plans fly right out the fucking window.
But this time, I don't see fear in her light blue eyes, instead, I see defiance and fuck if it doesn't make my cock ache for her.
"You're not going to win this game, Macie. You may as well give up now."
"Is that right?" she sasses, her pulse thundering beneath my fingertips.
"You've got no idea who your opponent is."
"There's something you should know, Dunn." I continue to stare at her, fighting like hell to keep my eyes on hers and not let them drop to her lips. "I never lose, either."
Long seconds pass as we both stand there staring at each other, our chests heaving and our breaths mingling.
The last thing I want to do is take her out on the date she forced me to plan, but that's exactly what needs to happen.
Shifting my grip on her, I grip the back of her neck and push her toward the door.
"Let's go before you find yourself in a position you can't get out of."
"Wait, I need my purse."
I allow her to grab it before leading her from the dorm, regretting it with every step that we take.
Her coconut scent fills my nose as we make our way down to my car, and it only gets stronger, more tempting the second we're shut in the enclosed space.
"You got me on this non-date. So what happens next? What line and plays does Leon Dunn use to get what he wants."
"I have no lines."
"Oh, so you rely on your personality and wit to woo a woman?"
"Firstly," I say, starting the engine and backing out of the space beside her Mini. "I don't woo anyone. It's no longer the nineteen-twenties if you hadn't noticed. And secondly, you're implying that neither of those are good enough to get a woman when really, I don't need either. Everything I need to convince them to spend time with me is right here," I say, cupping my junk.
"I don't know who I feel more sorry for, you and your big head, or the delusional women who fall for your crap."
Looking over at her, I can't help but laugh at the disgusted look on her face.
"You know, for someone who's trying to prove he's not the person I think he is, you're doing a really stellar job."
"I think you love it. Plus, I know I've got you as curious about what I'm rocking under my clothes as much as I am you."
"I couldn't care less. But experience tells me that if you need to make such a big deal about it, then you're probably just trying to compensate."
"Got a lot of experience, huh?"
"Less than you, I'm sure."
