“What the hell, Callum?”

“You should be in class,” I grind out, grabbing hold of her backpack and physically guiding her to the door.

“Let go, asshole!” She squirms to no avail. I manage to push her out of the bathroom and toward my classroom. “What were you doing in there?”

“Nothing,” I lie.

She scowls at me. “Liar.”

“Nothing that concerns you,” I say instead. “Now get to class before I tell Dad you’re cutting.”

Her nostrils flare, but I know I’ve hit my mark. She’s Daddy’s little girl. Does nothing wrong in his eyes. He already shelters her. If he knows she’s skipping class, he’ll want to know why and double down his efforts to keep her safe and protected.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?”

“It’s not exactly news, Gemma.”

She shoots me the bird before stalking away but stops just shy of the corner of the hallway. “I’ll find out what you’re up to. Or who you’re doing it with.”

Her threats, though they make my skin crawl, don’t work.

“Go before I assign you detention.”

“Fuck off, Callum.”

Holy shit. I barely dodged a bullet.

What the hell was I thinking?

I wasn’t. That was the problem. My dick was calling the shots and it’s fucking brainless. The moment I shared with Willa will have to be enough because it can’t happen again.

It. Just. Fucking. Can’t.

But, oh God, do I hope it does.

Chapter Eight

Willa

He bit me.

My teacher bit me.

I’m still in a daze, even as I walk home from school.

That really happened. Callum came to check on me, comforted me, and then…lost control. It was hot and thrilling. I’ve been aching ever since.

More. I want more.

It’s easy to focus on Callum rather than my crappy life because he’s such a big presence. Not just his height or muscular frame. It’s him. Something about him commands attention. I can still smell his masculine scent clinging to my clothes. It’s intoxicating.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Eagerly, I pull my phone out, hoping it’s him. I deflate at seeing my mom’s name instead.

Mom: Have you seen my black clutch?

All pleasure at my encounter with Callum disappears in an instant. I glare at her words, angry at her for not being the mother I need her to be.

Me: I don’t exactly go to black tie affairs, so I don’t have it.

The dots move as she responds. I’m not normally bitchy to her, but being with Callum has left me energized.

Mom: You don’t have to be a brat about it.

It’s always like this. When she comes out of her pill fog and decides to be a parent again, I’m just supposed to bounce into line right along with her.