Lucian sat rigid behind his desk, jaw locked tight with barely contained anger. Bella was driving him out of his mind.
Last night was hazy, but he hadn’t been drunk enough to forget what he’d done to her. The best he’d ever had, no doubt. The memory alone was enough to make his c**k stir, thickening uncomfortably against his trousers.
Worse still, he couldn’t remember a single word he’d said to her.
And right now, with his body aching to find release and his mood black, the last thing he wanted was to take care of himself with his own hand or drive to some dark club, masking up, and burying himself in nameless slacked p*****s. None of them were her. He wanted Bella.
The school stuff was starting to piss him the f**k off more than anything. He could've gone straight to the house instead
