Campus King | 18+

Chapter Eight

Tristan

"Tristan."

My eyes shot open.

I was lying on my side, and in front of me was the familiar walls of my bedroom. The pillows and blankets were mine. No body except my own had ever lain on these sheets. Even fewer people had access to my apartment.

Which raised the question—how did she get in here?

"I know you're awake."

I sat upright, the blankets pooling at my waist as my gaze immediately sought and found her. She was standing in front of my window, arms folded over the red hoodie she wore when we first met, staring out at the trees below.

"What are you doing here?" I asked calmly, gaze trailing down to her bare legs. The sight of them sent a surprising jolt of arousal through me, and I frowned. Was I seriously still hung up over this girl? Why? And why wasn't I freaking out about her being in my apartment while I was asleep? This was literally one of my worst nightmares, and yet, I didn't feel that familiar fear.

"You tell me." Her head finally turned, and those gut-punching eyes hit me full force.

"How would I know how you got in here?" What the fuck was happening right now?

"You mean..." She walked over to me, stopping right next to the bed, "You don't want me here?" Her lips curled into a lascivious smile as she asked the question, and I could do nothing but stare at her like an idiot.

"You don't want me to do this?" Before I could even question what she was talking about, her hand pressed flat against my chest, pushing me back onto my elbows as she swung her leg over me to straddle my hips, planting her pert little ass right on my dick. I continued to stare at her, dumbfounded.

She leaned down until her face was inches from mine, golden strands of hair trailing between us, and gave me a smile filled with promise. "Isn't this what you think about when you look at me?" She ran a hand up my chest, and I stopped breathing altogether, heart nearly beating out of my ribcage. "I believe it was these lips you really liked, right?" Her hand lifted to tap her bottom lip with her index finger, and my eyes followed it, fixating on said lips.

"They look so soft, don't they?" She leaned in, her nose brushing against mine. "Don't you want to just bite them?"

I did. It shocked me how much I wanted to. Right now, all I could think about was how she'd feel, how she'd taste. I was powerless against her pull, and my head lifted, our lips inching closer. But right before they connected, her hand fisted the hair at the back of my head, and she yanked me away from her.

"Did you really think I was going to kiss the likes of you?" She laughed, and it pierced me straight through the heart. "Just touching you disgusts me. No one wants used goods, and that's exactly what you are, Tristan Beckett. It's all you'll ever be."

°•°•°•°

I shot upright in bed, heart thundering as I scanned the darkness for her. But there was no one there. Of course there wasn't—it was just a dream.

Exhaling a ragged breath, I reached up and ran both hands through my hair, rubbing the back of my head where I could still feel her painful grip.

I was dreaming about her now? What the fuck?

Looking down at my lap, I frowned at the erection tenting the blankets. The last thing I needed was to go lusting after that crazy woman. She had a chip on her shoulder, and she made me feel powerless. I fucking hated that feeling. Especially when it came to women.

Groaning, I fell onto my back and covered my face with my hands.

I couldn't get the image of her on top of me out of my head.

°•°•°•°

Fun fact, Tristan is, and probably will be, the horniest male lead of mine. I have many of my book boyfriends all planned and living rent-free in my head, but this motherfucker out-hornys all of them. That's not to say the others aren't as sexy and down-bad as he is. 

But his hornyness is a large part of his character, and it runs deeper than that. Rereaders will know what I mean.

Happy Reading!
Brooke