by Shania Tyler
ACT TWO
BEATING HIM AT HIS OWN GAME
CHAPTER
SIX
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Amity had been angered when Ronan had forced her against him, but his hold had been tight and his body so still, she was afraid to move, terrified that something awful was happening. Perhaps, she’d thought, he was moved by the story of her missing friend. Not many people knew someone who’d been kidnapped; walking back into her old room gave Amity the sense of being transported through history.
* * *
It seemed like only yesterday that she and Heather had sat in this very room, talking about their classes, boys, and their dreams for after Morwen.
After a while, Amity relaxed in Mr. Scott’s hold and sought comfort for her pain. His hands were strong and with them standing so close, she could feel every muscle of his rigid chest, solid arms, and strong legs. She smiled, knowing their stance completely inappropriate, yet at the same time, feeling a rightness about it. No one would walk in on them. The door was closed, and Amity was positive she was the first one to cross the threshold in months.
But then Mr. Scott pivoted them to face her empty bed and Amity grew confused. There was nothing to see on her side of the room. She’d taken everything into the new room she shared with Jenny.
But when air touched her upper thigh, she looked down, shocked to find that Mr. Scott had been inching her dress up.
“Mr. Scott?”
She craned her neck, only to find him looking past her. His eyes remained on her empty mattress, but his breathing had grown ragged . . . and then she felt something hard! He was growing erect and larger by the second.
She grabbed for his hands as her dress went up a few inches more. “Mr. Scott?” she tried again.
But then his fingers brushed her outer thigh, and Amity shut her mouth . . . and her eyes,
and . . . It was wrong. It was so very wrong, but she didn’t stop him. She let him touch her.
His hand was warm on her thighs and moisture pooled between her legs. She let out another breath as his other hand began to play, sliding against the edge of her panties.
This time, when she said his name, her voice was rough with need. “Mr. Scott . . .”
His fingers continued to move over the edge where lace met skin, and Amity found herself praying they’d move elsewhere. She wanted this touch between her legs, past the barrier of her underwear, and deep, deep inside her. Her body awakened just like the first time he’d touched her. Only this time, she burned everywhere and only he could put the flames to rest.
She hadn’t had sex since freshman year, much less been touched, but Amity was sure that nothing had ever felt like this.
His hands moved and she let out a moan of disappointment when instead of down, they moved up and came to rest on her stomach. He caressed her there in small circles, and Amity began to tighten and loosen her walls in intervals. She knew exactly how that sweet caress would feel elsewhere and was almost ready to beg for it.
Garrien had never touched her with such patience and thoughtfulness. He’d always simply jumped to the hot spots, but with Mr. Scott, her entire body became a hot stop and she’d come undone with need for him.
His breath rushed past her ear and caused her hair to tickle her cheek. Then he buried his face against her neck and his lips touched her there.
She moaned again and grabbed his hands, feeling over their largeness. “Mr. Scott.” She gripped his wrist, keeping him still, though his fingers continued to move, sending tremors through her. She gasped and pushed at his hands, but they wouldn’t budge. She groaned then in frustration, needing them to touch the part of her that ached with great pain, yet somehow, he seemed unaware of what he was doing to her. She had to wake him up. “Please . . . touch me . . .”
The growl that rumbled past Mr. Scott’s lips sounded inhuman, vibrating across her skin and down her spine. She tried to push his hands to her panties again, yet still they wouldn’t move, all the while his fingers, those fingers she was desperate for, stroked her above her waist.
“I need you,” she whispered.
He answered with the push of his erection against her panties and her body returned the motion with her own reply. She leaned on her toes and pressed farther onto him, resting in the crease of her ass. She slid up and felt his hands lock on her waist right before he shivered. Then his hold loosened and Amity turned around to meet his liquid-ice eyes, finding them to be brighter than ever. The overwhelming sense of seeing his every desire crashed into her mind, and she laced her fingers into the short dark hair at his nape, and said, “Touch me.“
The words had barely left her lips before Ronan did.
He’d tried not to. Once he’d realized the moment they were sharing was not simply of his own imagination, he told himself to stop. Amity was a student. He’d been told not to touch the students . . . . But damn him to eternal darkness, when he’d seen the way her eyes had darkened, he hadn’t been able to help but glimpse into her mind and he’d seen exactly where she’d wanted his hands.
So, he kissed her and stroked her mouth open just as his fingers found the front of her undergarments. He cupped her and she broke off the kiss with cry that almost undid him right then and there. Her passion was evident in her short breathing, the heat pouring off her body, and moisture that soaked her below.
Her scent hit him like a strong wave and his stomach turned painfully, shooting up to alert him to its emptiness. He’d eaten only a few hours ago, but his current hunger was not for food and would not be denied.
He was unaware of how quickly he’d moved, but in an instant, he was on his knees, her garment in tatters around her ankles, her thighs resting on his shoulders, and his mouth resting on her sweet flesh.
Amity cried softly again and her hands held on to his head, using him to keep her balance and to keep him where he wanted her while he used his tongue in the exact way he’d seen her want for his fingers. He stroked her in and out, lapping at her folds and sucking on the small bud at the top of her entrance.
The sweet woman in his arms went still and then he felt her release. Her thighs locked around his head, and he took his fill of her . . . but it wasn’t enough. His stomach turned again and the pulsing vein that traveled through her inner thigh beat against his ear, chanting him on, calling him to seek to the substance that he truly craved, and begging him to release the dark urge within. His mouth felt heavy, and he realized his teeth had elongated, ready to strike.
And intoxicated by her smell, and being true to his nature, he could not refuse her.
He turned and struck, feeling his teeth break through the thin layer of skin and farther until he hit gold.
Amity, who’d been coming down from her orgasm, cried out again, and then bit down on her lower lip until she broke the skin.
The touch of red that marked her lips . . .
The heightening of her arousal . . .
Heaven.
His eyes rolled back as a feeling a euphoria slipped into him. The pain in his gut was gone, replaced by pleasure . . . and Amity’s soft cries only made the blood sweeter.
Moisture, cooler than sweat, hit his face and he moved just slightly enough to find Amity smiling at him. Her face was red, her lips pink and plush from their kissing, and her eyes wet with tears of blissful pleasure.
He slowly pulled back from her leg and saw her eyes widen.
Then she stilled and narrowed her eyes in confusion before catching a breath . . . and then another breath. Confusion and fear made her still, and Ronan knew she was staring at his teeth and seeing him for what he was.
She would scream once she got her bearings.
He could not let that happen.
The moment her eyes found his again, he said, “Neneta oun’a,” telling her to calm in Chabar, the powerful language of his land, all the while calming himself to concentrate on his task. “Neneta oun’a.” His emotions were elevated at t
he moment, and if he allowed them to take control, Amity could very well break from the trance.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she fell silent and Ronan erased from her mind the moment he’d broken into her flesh and the fear she’d found in him. Part of him knew he should erase the rest of their intimate encounter from her mind, but thought better of it. He’d need her to remember for what he did next.
He licked any blood that remained on his mouth, rescinded his teeth, and watched as Amity broke from the trance and began to work with the limited memory he’d left her.
A soft smile touch her lips as she recalled the pleasure he’d given her and the tenderness in her eyes only made him feel worse.
Her hand came to rest on his cheek and he closed his eyes, but forced himself not to lean farther into her touch.
She giggled—a beautiful melody—and Ronan hung his head in shame . . . only to find himself breathing in the scent between her legs even more. He groaned and pushed her off him and stood.
The abruptness of his movement almost landed her on her arse, but she found her footing and stood with a look of caution, though the smile still lay on her lips. She fixed her skirts and bit her tempting lip before saying, “Mr. Scott.”
He looked away from her and straightened his coat. “You’ll alert the board of the change in allocation of funds. Your dorm will be renovated.”
She stiffened and then said, “Thank you, but—”
Pain struck his heart, for what, he did not know, but he forced himself to look at her once more and said, “You performed very well. You’ve more than earned what you sought.”
Amity’s face looked stricken, and the octave of her voice went up. “What?” Standing there looking small in her pretty dress, with her open eyes and honest face, he felt cruel for treating her less than the goddess that she was. Her hand rested on her stomach and she took a step toward him. “That’s not what happened here. I—”
“You what? Like me?” You can’t like me. “Don’t be a fool. This was simply a transaction between adults. Don’t make it more than that,” he said with an authority he didn’t feel, much less deserve. He ran his fingers through his hair and straightened his tie. “Well, no one needs to know what you were willing to do to get what you want. That will stay between us.” He opened the door. “Thank you for the . . . time.” He closed it soundly behind him and ran for the stairs.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
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He knew himself to be right.
She’d regained her memory.…
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Amity stared at the closed door for all of three seconds, but then ran down the stairs after the man who had just left. She reached the main floor quickly, even remembering to mind herself on one of the crumbling steps, and left the building.
* * *
She saw him a few yards ahead and called, “Mr. Scott!”
He didn’t turn around and didn’t slow. In fact, she was almost sure he’d sped up.
She tried to run, but a pain in her inner thigh throbbed too much to pursue him. Amity then caught sight of Kikita, a classmate, riding her bike to a stop before the building.
Amity went to her. “Hey, Kiki, can I borrow your bike?”
The girl smiled at her. “Hey, Aims, no prob, but I’ll need it for dinner,” she said, hopping off with an expert ease that didn’t get her long skirts tangled in the pedals.
Amity grabbed the handlebars and smiled at Kikita. “Thanks!”
The girl waved her away, but Amity was already heading in the direction she’d seen Mr. Scott disappear. She guessed him to be returning to his office and found herself to be right a moment later when he appeared in her vision.
She allowed the bike to do most of the work as she pedaled toward him and got within a foot of him. Then she lost the element of surprise when he turned around and grabbed the front of the bike, bringing it to a crashing halt and his face inches from hers.
He was so handsome, even when he looked mildly angry. His blue eyes narrowed at her. “Miss Woods—”
“I do like you,” she confessed. Yes, he’d been cruel inside the dorm, but Amity hadn’t been able to let him walk away from her without him knowing the truth. She hadn’t cared what his reaction would be, but the one she got surprised her.
Mr. Scott’s face relaxed and his entire body stilled, but then pain creased his brows as he looked deep into her eyes. Their blue depths seemed to say something to her, and she swore that she heard him say, “You can’t like me,” but his mouth didn’t move.
Then an image flashed before her eyes. Teeth, blood, and a pair of eyes that were too impossibly blue to be human. She sucked in a breath.
Mr. Scott jerked back and let go of the bike, forcing Amity to drop her feet to keep herself upright.
He turned away from her just as a pair of students passed.
They both remained silent and then he whispered, “You can’t like me.” Turning back to her, he said, “You don’t know me.”
A coolness slipped into her blood as she thought him to be right. Her mind focused on the image she’d seen of Mr. Scott, and she wondered where it had come from. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at him.
Ronan’s eyes moved over Amity, took in her body’s position and the weariness in her eyes, and wondered what she was thinking. She couldn’t possibly remember the last few moments of their coming together. He’d taken those dark thoughts from her.
But as he held her eyes, he grew more suspicious. He wanted to check and see, so reached out to touch her, but she pulled back from his touch, taking the bike with her.
And that’s when he knew himself to be right. She’d regained her memory.
He’d gotten emotional at her confession.
He sucked his teeth and tried to reach for her again, but Amity’s eyes widened with fear and a group of male students in shiny clothing decided to pass at that moment.
One of the men, the tallest and biggest one in the group, stopped and looked between Ronan and Amity before turning to her. “Hey, Amity, this guy giving you trouble?”
Ronan felt his mouth begin to throb and his fist tightened. The urge to claim what was his grew, but there was nothing he could do in daylight and any move he made would complicate his mission. Violence would not be the way to introduce himself as the president of the school.
He did, however, take his time to look over the male before him, but found it hard to even face his direction with the amount of cologne he and his group wore. It was as if they’d bathed in it.
Amity turned to the other male, blinked, and shook her head.
The other guy nodded, but didn’t move. His group of friends in various sizes, but all wearing the same outfit, stood around them and were sizing Ronan up. It was then that Ronan noticed the ball in their leader’s hand and recalled the sporting groups of the school. These men played for the basketball team.
The leader asked Amity, “Would you like us to walk you to the dorm? It’s the least we could do for what you did for us.” He gave her a gentle smile.
Amity returned the smile. “Thank, Danny, but you don’t have to thank me for getting the new tutoring hall for athletes. I’m sure they would have got around to it eventually.”
Danny insisted. “The offer still stands.”
Ronan frowned at their interaction and wanted the other man to go away and leave them alone, but Amity nodded, hopping off the bike, and one of the smaller guys took it from her.
Then Danny ushered Amity into the fold of the men and Ronan noticed that the athlete still maintained a respectable distance from her. Once she was secured, the group started to walk away. Both Danny and Amity turned back to look at Ronan, but their expressions were different. Danny’s dark eyes sent warning while Amity still seemed . . . lost.
He was glad she’d won the protection of so many people. It showed she had great character. It seemed that everyone on campus admired her for one
reason or another and Ronan was finding his own adoration for her as well.
He recalled the feel of her velvety flesh, the sounds of her soft cries, and her succulent taste . . . it was the last of what lay at the crux of her thighs that made him hard. But he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to craving her blood again. Both made him hard.
He’d have to keep his distance from her from now on.
He had no time for distractions and would rather leave this world and go home when the time came with little regrets.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
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He’d taken her. …
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“Amity, I think you’re going too far with this,” Jenny said as they ate in the cafeteria a week later.
* * *
The noise was just the thing that Amity needed to stop focusing on her problems. It was Monday, which meant that the cafeteria was serving breakfast for dinner, and it seemed like half the campus was pressing in just for the tots.
Breakfast was Amity’s favorite meal of the day, so it was no wonder she loved it just as much as everyone else on campus. What was better than pancakes layered with melted butter and golden maple syrup? The list was a very short one in Amity’s book.
Jenny’s hand appeared over Amity’s forked hand, stopping her from delivering another mouthful of pancake.
“Serious, Amity? You can’t do this.” Jenny’s blue eyes were more severe than Amity had ever seen them. “You can’t just go breaking into faculty housing, much less the house of the president of the freaking school!”
