𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙏𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝘽𝙖𝙙

Chapter 8: Warning

♦ ♢ ♦ Kaitlyn ♦ ♢ ♦

Xavier comes and sits next to me in chemistry.

"You won't hang around your buddies?" I ask him.

He shrugs, getting his books out. "I'm showing you my interest, Sharpie." He leans in closer, his earthy cologne surrounding me. "You feel their eyes on you?" He whispers, making goosebumps appear on my arms.

I turn my head to spy at Talia and Meghan looking at me. Conner and Jackson doing the same, no doubt to report to their master, Dex.

I turn my head back, and toward Xavier, who is still leaning close. "Who would have thought you'd be so highly entertained by my proposal."

He smirks. "Not me."

I lean forward, making him still, as I kiss the tip of his nose. He blinks at me, and I give him a small, amused smile. "Keeping it lowkey, remember?"

"So little touches count?" He asks.

I lift a shoulder and turn back to the teacher.

Then jump out of my skin when Xavier's calloused hand comes to rest on my bare thigh, because my skirt doesn't cover that part.

I look at him, trying not to fucking blush, but probably failing, because he gives me a smirk. "It's under the table, Sharpie. No one will know."

But the students around us do, because this dickhead didn't whisper it.

People gasp and their eyes widen. Then murmur ripples through the crowd.

I blush hard, putting my face into my hands to stop feeling like my lungs are about to explode.

His hands squeeze the flesh, and why do I want to sigh? I mean... he'd be really good at giving massages, that's for sure.

"Something to tell the class, everyone?" Mr Parker turns around to ask.

Students quiet down, and I suppress the urge to shiver as Xavier starts to stroke his thumb against my thigh.

Holy shit.

This is so naughty. But do I expect anything else from the Xavier Altson?

No.

I swallow hard, trying to breathe through my nose to calm my nerves, but I'm hyperventilating.

Not even Dexter did shit like this. And we were actually dating.

"You're blushing again, Princess," Xavier purrs victoriously.

He fucking knows he's torturing me, doesn't he?

I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes at him. Then lean back and run my fingertips up his hand, his veins on his arms, his biceps. And watch with satisfaction as his skin erupts in goosebumps too.

I know he hates touch. But being his girlfriend, I can definitely touch him. And oh, how I will.

I discreetly run my hand up his thigh, feeling his muscles tense up under my touch. His jaw clenches as he glares at me, and I give him a sweet smile.

"You like that?" I whisper.

♦ ♢ ♦ Xavier ♦ ♢ ♦

God knows I should hate it.

I hate being touched and that's a fact.

So why is this thrilling? Especially when she's teasing me about it?

Oh, I'm about to retaliate.

I move my hand up, under her skirt until it's resting at the juncture of her hips and I feel the band of her underwear.