On His Knees by Kiss Tabatha

Author:Kiss, Tabatha
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 44

Jenna

Seth takes a step toward me without releasing my hand. His lips twist into his usual smirk as his eyes draw a line from the tip of my nose to the bend of my knees, traveling dangerously fast along my curves.

I tense up as he approaches, his body now so close to mine. His cologne tickles my nose; a scent far better than that damn body spray he always reeked of back in the day. That boy — that horrible, immature, piece of shit — has grown into a man that I...

Seth touches my cheek. His thumb caresses my skin as he tilts closer to my lips.

A man that I...

He kisses me. His closed mouth presses flat against mine. Tight and... awkward.

A man that I... am somehow...

Not attracted to at all.

I recoil from his touch. “Okay, this is weird,” I say. “We made it weird.”

Seth steps back, looking just as confused as I am. “Yeah, something’s not right here,” he says.

“You’re kissing me. My best friend’s brother is kissing me and it’s weird.”

“It wasn’t this weird before, right?”

“No! It was sexy and spontaneous and stuff.”

“Right? Before, I was like boom! Let’s go!”

“Me, too!”

“Now, I’m just... meh.” He furrows his brow. “Maybe we over-thought this.”

“Well, whatever we did, we super ruined the vibe.” I look him up and down. “I barely want to even be near you right now.”

“And I’ve got nothing down there.”

I look down at his crotch, deeply offended. “Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Not even, like... a little bit?”

He shakes his head. “No. Sorry.”

“But this is the dress,” I argue. “Car accidents have been caused because of this dress and you’ve got nothing?!”

He flinches, his eyes wide and fixed on mine as a sound, deep and guttural, echoes from his throat.

“What?” I ask.

“Do that again.”

“Do what again?”

“Get mad at me.”

I deflate. “Are you serious?”

“My dick twitched when you yelled at me. Do it again.”

“Ew,” I say. “No.”

His eyes open wide, excited. “Hit me,” he says.

“No.”

“Smack me in the face, Jenna.”

“I will not smack you in the face, Seth!” I turn to leave. “Honestly, I should just go home. This ain’t working out.”

“Hewson Murphy didn’t spray paint your shoes. I did.”

I gasp as a sudden, furious rage fires through me. Before I can even realize what I’m doing, I raise an open palm to him.

I smack him in the face.

“You what?”

He instantly shakes it off. “I’m the one who broke into your gym locker,” he says, happy as a fucking clam. “Afterward, I stashed the can in the trunk of his car to frame him and dropped an anonymous tip.”

I raise my hands again, this time targeting his chest.

“You ruined my shoes?!”

He opens his mouth. “I—”

I strike his chest. He shifts backward.

“Those were Parisian!” I say, my palms tingling as I hit him again. And again. And again. “My parents tried to have him expelled, but it was you!?”

“Yup!”

“You?! You sick son of a bitch!”

Seth grabs my hands by the wrists. With a single fierce jolt, he pulls me against him, our bodies slamming together.

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