Page 8 of Let the Game Begin (Kiss Me Like You Love Me #1)

I knew I should have restrained myself, but that perfectly proportioned body was made to be appreciated.

So, I stared at him like he was a statue on exhibit in a museum and I was a visitor intent on memorizing every seductive angle of him.

I consoled myself with the knowledge that he hadn’t torn his eyes away from me either. We were assessing one another.

“Why are you staring at me?” I murmured, feeling like the walls of the room were inexplicably closing in on us.

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing to me this whole time, Tinkerbell?” That nickname again. That deep, rough voice combined with his cocky self-assurance scattered all my intentions of standing up to him.

All at once, he advanced on me, and I scrambled to my feet and backed up.

I was visibly embarrassed, but I didn’t want to give him any power over me.

“Don’t answer a question with another question.

We were staring at each other,” I told him as I felt the circular counter behind me hit my butt, bringing me to a halt.

What were his intentions here?

I didn’t know, but I had a gut feeling that this boy was dangerous, and every time I looked at him, I felt shaken.

That was the truth.

Neil advanced again, and in a slick move, put his palms on the counter on either side of my body. He loomed over me—too tall, too powerful, too intimidating.

“What are you doing?” I babbled in a voice so feeble that I barely recognized it as my own. I had always been immune to guys like him. I’d never focused much on men in general, not even Jared. I’d always had other more important things on my mind.

“I know what you want…” His honey-colored eyes slid along my entire frame, lingering on my breasts. Utterly shameless. “And I don’t mind you also knowing what I want…” he whispered, soft but certain.

“You’re a pervert.” I tried not to look overcome by the strong scent of bath gel that his body emitted, or by his lips, which, from this close distance, seemed even more plush than last night.

“Oh, you have no idea, Babygirl…”

I drowned in his eyes for a moment. He was drugging me with his venomous stare. A stare that penetrated me, stripping me of all my defenses and…

Ridiculous. It was just a visual spectacle, like a rainbow or the picturesque colors of a sunrise.

“Stay away from me!” I summoned all my strength to put some distance between us. “I’m your stepfather’s daughter… You shouldn’t talk to me that way.”

“Chill out, we’re just playing,” he said, blatantly staring at the curves of my body, covered as they were by a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans.

He wanted me to understand that he wanted me and how determined he was to get whatever he wanted, but I wasn’t going to give in so easily.

We didn’t even know each other and for him to presume that I was like last night’s blond was an affront.

“How are we playing? What does this game consist of? Let’s hear it.” I folded my arms over my chest, challenging him fearlessly. I was young and maybe a bit naive, but I had enough fight in me to fend off such an obvious bad boy like him.

“If I told you, what fun would that be?” he answered. Then he gave me one last hungry look before turning and leaving with a sardonic laugh that promised nothing but trouble…

***

That morning, I decided to put Neil and his muscles out of my mind and got a ride to the university with Logan, who was just as pleasant and friendly as I’d expected.

He was also attending Pace. We chatted on the way about his brand-new Audi R8 and the lovely relationship he had with his siblings.

But despite all his attempts to draw me into engaging conversation, I was still anxious about the new program I was about to start at school.

New city, new home, new family, new college…

All of it scared me. I wasn’t used to change, and the fast pace of it all made me nervous.

Logan, with his placid, understanding manner tried to put me at ease, and he partially succeeded. I also discovered that while we were both undeclared majors, we did have several classes in common. I would be spending a lot of time with him, which reassured me, oddly enough.

He also introduced me to his group of friends, and I got to know Alyssa, an energetic girl who was full of life, and Cory, a dark-haired boy with a lean frame and a perpetual smile on his lips.

He had the strange habit of calling every living being of the feminine persuasion “doll.” Then there was Jake, a super-tattooed blond guy with a rebellious charm, and Adam, with dense curls and olive skin.

And finally, Julie was the brainiac of the group.

I shook hands with each of them, and when it was Cory’s turn, I said, “Pleased to meet you. I’m Selene.

Don’t call me ‘doll’ and keep it in your pants, thanks. ” Which for some reason made him laugh.

“She’s a tough nut to crack,” Logan said, chuckling.

“I’ve noticed,” Cory answered sardonically.

As we passed through the main atrium of the school, I tried to get to know each of them and commit their names to memory.

All of the girls were nice and friendly, and I found that I particularly clicked with Alyssa.

I also appreciated their infinite patience in showing me around campus.

The university was huge. I went to the theater, the library, and the main annexes, trying to memorize the corridors and lecture halls I’d have to find to attend my classes.

Acclimating wouldn’t be easy, but I was now surrounded by people who were ready and available to help me if I needed it.

A few hours later, while I was walking with Alyssa and the others across the wide university lawn, our conversation was suddenly interrupted by the roar of a powerful vehicle. It drew everyone’s attention, mine included.

A gorgeous black Maserati pulled up in front of campus, and a guy with a black leather jacket and a cigarette dangling from his lips emerged. He stared straight ahead intently, and perhaps because of this removed and mysterious attitude, he gave the impression of a violent, even obscene beauty.

It was Neil. It couldn’t have been anyone else.

The luminous highlights in his tousled hair gleamed in the sun, and his full lips were stretched into an insolent smile.

“Your brother is such a snack,” Alyssa remarked to Logan before lapsing into all sorts of praise for Neil. Her opinion was shared by most of the girls present; I was the only one who seemed upset or surprised about finding him here at the school.

“What the hell is he doing here?” I practically yelled. I couldn’t stand having to put up with him, even in a controlled environment like the campus. I’d never been a weak person before, but I inexplicably knew that this boy had the power to annihilate me.

“Neil’s in his senior year. He’ll be graduating soon,” Logan explained, surprised by my reaction.

I didn’t give a crap whether he was in his senior year. I didn’t want him anywhere near me. Period.

We all continued to stare at him. Though only I did it angrily. In truth, the anger was more for me than for him, because I was afraid of the effect that Neil had on me.

“I’m begging you: don’t let me run into him too often,” I grumbled, praying an unseen God would heed my plea.

“Well, you do live in the same house as him, so school is probably the least of your worries there.” Logan chuckled. I had hoped to at least avoid his insidious presence and walk carefree through the halls of my university.

I was still mourning when, a moment later, Jennifer appeared wearing a black miniskirt and slim knee-high boots. Her hair was a golden cascade over her bombshell curves. She wrapped her arms around Neil’s neck and kissed him passionately, paying no attention to the students around her.

“My goodness…in a public place and everything,” Julie remarked, sounding prim and proper.

“You are talking about Neil Miller here. You know the reputation he’s got…” Adam pointed out.

So, he was known to be a lothario? Shocker.

“Jennifer’s body is insane…” Cory interjected, staring speculatively at her backside.

I couldn’t say exactly why, but the situation became too much for me to handle.

I said my goodbyes to everyone and headed for the building’s entrance, ready to start classes.

I didn’t want to hear anything more about that swaggering jerk.

Our relationship had started off on the wrong foot, and I already knew it was going to continue in the same fashion.

I was better off just walking away. Or running.

***

My classes flew by. In my literature course, I met the odd Professor Smith, who had a soft spot for Shakespeare.

In just the first half hour, he quoted him approximately one billion times.

Then I met the art history instructor, Amanda Cooper, who was less fanatical but equally dedicated.

She was lively and appealing. So much so that Logan, Adam, Jake, and Cory’s observations on the class were limited to comments about the tight skirt she was wearing and debates about her possible age.

“That’s what I’m saying. She’s got to be about forty,” Adam insisted once again as we walked away from campus. I couldn’t wait to get home; there was a jackhammer pounding in my head, and all I wanted was a good night’s sleep.

“And I’m saying no way,” Jake said.

“Guys, either way she’s a MILF. Everyone knows that’s the best kind,” Cory declared.

I smiled at their debate. It was true, young men often seemed especially attracted to older women.

“You want to knock it off?” Julie grumbled in annoyance, but no one paid her any attention.

“As I was saying: she’s a dime piece,” Adam went on. Their collective hormones were running wild after getting a glimpse of their professor’s shapely bottom.

“You aren’t wrong,” Logan added, and I gave him a disbelieving look.