This man.
This fücking man.
Not only does he have zero concept of boundaries, but he’s also the most annoying being I’ve ever met. And that’s saying a lot, considering I was a student on financial aid at an Ivy League school where the ratio of douchebaggery to normal is 99-to-1.
He carries himself like he owns the world, and maybe he does, but I’ll be damned if he thinks that includes me. I twist in his grip. Being trapped like this—pressed to his chest, unable to look him in the eye—makes me feel powerless in a way that’s both infuriating and, much to my shame, incredibly arousing.
“Let me go,” I say.
“Only if you promise to behave.”
I snort, twisting harder. “Behave? What are you, my father?”
Damon’s breath fans my neck, and I swear I can feel his smirk even without seeing it. “Oh
