Page 108 of Revere

But just like one, I open the car door and storm out because I can’t sit next to him with these thoughts running through my head. His commands might be condescending, but they’re turning me on. I fell for Jacob’s dominant side. His taking control allowed me to get out of my head. And in this moment, all it does is make me want him when I shouldn’t.

I slam the car door behind me, but he’s already climbing out on his side. We’re in the middle of the forest, so there’s nowhere to run, but I decide to walk the road that leads to the dorm anyway.

“Stop.” Jacob snags my wrist, spinning me until my ass hits the hood of the car, and he’s standing between my legs.

With one hand gripping my jaw, he forces my face up to his.

My eyes narrow, and I want to fight with him.

I’m itching for it.

We’re both breathing hard. Exhaustion is etched all over his face. Deep circles I didn’t notice at first cast shadows under his eyes.

His grip gets tighter. “Just stop fighting me for five fucking seconds.”

“I can’t.”

It’s the truth.

I need the fight. The claws, the anger, the rage. It’s all that reminds me I haven’t given up completely. I’m still here, and there is something worth surviving for.

Something worth waking up to.

As much as I despise what Jacob has done, that’s what he is. The touch that wakes this fire in my belly. The flames that incinerate me with his stare.

I’m angry, but I need to fight with him.

It’s keeping me going.

Like Jacob senses it, his mouth sinks to mine, and it isn’t sweet. It’s pure anger and regret and passion. It’s the heart of an explosion that will ripple until there is nothing left of us.

My heart is a bloody puddle of grief dripping with old wounds, and his hands aren’t enough to patch me up. But he tries. He dips his fingers to my throat and traces my neck like he’s drawing out my last breath.

After all, that’s what this is.

The kiss of death.

Eternity swallowing me.

Jacob pushes me down on the hood of the car, and I accept that I want him. If for nothing more than tonight. I’m a marionette, and he pulls in all the right places, forcing me to see him.

His tongue slides along my lower lip, and my thighs clamp at his hips. My skirt rides up, and I’m faintly aware we’re on the side of the road, and that anyone could drive by, but I don’t care.

Is this what it’s like to give up? Or is this what it’s like to let go?

Is there a difference?

He shoves my skirt up higher, and I widen my legs. My nails dig into the back of his neck, and he shivers as I drag them down his back.

“I still hate you,” I murmur against his mouth.

“Good.” He sinks his teeth into my lower lip until I scream. “That means you’re learning.”

Jacob flips me around, pressing my chest flat to the hood as he shoves my skirt up my hips. Something metal flicks, and I look behind me in time to see the flash of a knife as he flips it open.

“Don’t move, baby.” He grins. “Wouldn’t want to cut you.”

Something about how he says it makes me think he wouldn’t mind cutting me at all. The simple fact that heat throbs at my center at that thought tells me just how sick I am for this man.