Page 183 of Broken by my Bully

I climb out of the Land Rover, straightening my faded jeans and button-up blouse. It’s kinda old-fashioned, with its pastel pink and green floral fabric, but it’s one of the nicest items of clothing I own.

I’m already heading for the taco stand before I clap a hand over my ass pocket of my jeans.

Shit, my money.

Time to get a wallet. But that will have to wait until after I find the money for a pair of sturdy sandals to replace my disintegrating flip-flops.

I lean into the car, scraping my AHC tote bag toward me over the seat and rummaging around for my money.

Where the hell…?

I upend the tote on the driver’s seat, pawing through everything that falls out. A backpack might be a good idea, too. Something with pockets.

Oh. Right.

Maybe Bastian saw the money and put it in the Land Rover’sconsole or something. I look around, see a notch in the plastic molding, and shove my hand in there.

“At least your punctuality has improved since you started college,” Bastian says behind me.

I jerk my hand out of the console, but not because he gave me fright.

It’s because I stuck my hand into something wet and sticky and gross. It could be some kind of sixth sense thing, but as soon as I touch it, I know that it’s cum.

And I know it belongs to Kai.

That motherfucking psycho was in my car.

Bastian’s car.

The car Professor Rookeloanedme.

I spin around, shoving my hand into my back pocket and trying to wriggle it around in there to get all the cum off my fingers.

Kai’s cum. On my fingers. While I’m less than a foot away from my professor. My body’s suddenly confused as fuck. Disgusted and turned on and furious all at once.

Why is he standing so close?

Does hewantme to smell his cologne, because God, it’s making my knees weak, and that feels intentional.

Kai smelled of weed and raspberry suckers last night.

Him? Bastian?

He smells like he just fucked someone in the back of a Rolls Royce and quickly spritzed some thousand-dollar cologne on his neck to cover up the cum.

“Hi.” I clear my throat. “Uh. Yeah.” Swallow.

God, brain, could you please get on with it? I’m getting embarrassed for the both of us.

Bastian just watches, like it pleases him I’ve forgotten basic English.

“But, uh, you’re, uh, punctual also, so, uh, there’s that.”

What the hell am I even babbling about?

Professor Rooke lets out a dry chuckle, his hand going into his back pocket too.

Fuck me, he looks good.