Page 36 of Trapped With You

I rolled my lips into my mouth to tame my grin. When Ella wasn’t looking, I mouthed to him, “You’re the best.”

Shaun shot me an air kiss like a jackass and mouthed back, “I know.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by me how the temperature rose to icy when both girls’ gazes met. It was odd how their sixteen years of friendship ended abruptly. Some months ago, Ella mentioned Darla stopped responding to her texts and calls.

Whether it was Vesta University’s campus or one of the many parties hosted within the society, Darla still remained cordial with me whenever we ran into each other.

Finally, we entered the dimly lit tunnels, the beige cobblestone walls reminiscent of ancient catacombs. Built in the late 1800s, they were used as passages for the nuns and residents to travel underground through the motherhouse. The only way to get to the dormitories from the inside was through here. Even when I was a student, I seldom walked by this path. The musty smell and the eerie atmosphere of the tunnels didn’t mesh well with me.

Nor did the way our flashlights bounced against the walls, giving the illusion of shadowy figures following our every step.

There were many myths surrounding St. Victoria. The walls of the tunnels hiding the bones of the dead convent inhabitants was a popular one.

My favourite, though, was that Sister Victoria made an appearance every time you went downstairs to the crypt, where she and her fellow sisters rested. She’d stand by her grave and stare at you in her habit until you lost your mind or ran away. It was obviously a load of bullshit. I’d been to the crypt twice—once to drink with the boys after a Rangers’ win and another time to fuck Ella in the confessional booth—and never once saw her.

I checked my watch as we fell into a half walk, half jog. “Wehave about two hours and twenty-four minutes left.”

Ella grimaced. “I want to finish this dare in fifteen minutes flat. Otherwise, we’ll be pressed for time with the other ones.”

Otherwise, we wouldn’t win. That’s what she wanted to say.

“We’ll get you your crown soon. Don’t worry, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed and hurried ahead, her shapely ass tempting as hell in those tight jeans.

A shot of pure lust travelled through me. I wanted to lick, bite, and suck my mark onto her ass cheek. The same one where I almost tattooedProperty of Cadeafter a night of hard-core fucking on ecstasy.

I missed Ella so much—her jokes, her laugh, her ability to always set me at ease—but damn me if I didn’t miss that tall model body. She was so easy to handle. I could throw and flip her around like a ragdoll. And she loved it, moaning wantonly when I fucked her in every filthy position. No one could have known that South Side’s resident princess enjoyed being praised, degraded, and treated cruelly in bed.

Fuck, remembering all our wild nights sent blood rushing to my cock.

“Call you what?” I feigned ignorance as we took a left hook in the tunnels. “Princess?”

“Yes.” She seethed. “And if you don’t stop, I won’t be responsible for what I do.”

“What will you do, hm?” A wise man wouldn’t poke the bear. But I loved riling her up.

“Knee you so hard in the balls, you’ll wish you never opened your mouth to speak.”

Grinning, I pushed Ella against the tunnel walls and covered her body with mine.

The way her breath hitched. The way her long orange nails curled into my shoulders. The way her chest rose and fell against my own. The way she bristled at my audacity but wasn’t able toshove me away because she cravedthisas bad as I did.

I loved it all.

My palms smoothed over her waist, the skin-to-skin contact nearly searing me. I bit back a groan, staring at the pebbled nipples poking through her orange bralette. My mouth watered. I wanted so badly to flick the strings of her top so it came undone and lick her pretty little tits like a starved man devouring his first meal after days.

“Do your worst, Ella,” I rasped. “You know I like it rough.”

“Cade…” she warned. “Your gun’s poking me again.”

I brought my lips close to hers so she could feel my whisper. “That’s not my gun, baby.”

“Ah.” Ella tilted her head, arching a brow. Her glossed lips curled in a pompous smirk. Oh, yeah. She liked knowing she still had that effect on me.

God, she was sexy.

Temperamental, confident, and a whole lot bad.