To get to him, I need to use her.
I’ll play her like a violin and have her falling in love with me before she even knows what’s happening.
It will be easy. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.
She’s just a girl.
A tool to get what I want.
When I’m done with her I won’t think twice about walking away.
At least, that was what I thought.
Until I met her.
“What do you want from me?” she asks and the echo of a chill runs down my back. I give her what I hope is an easy smile.
“I don’t want anything from you.” She smiles back at me and rolls her hips. I have to bite back a groan.
“Liar,” she says. “Everyone wants something. So. What do you want?”
For one wild second, I think about telling her. Just to see her reaction. I’d never do something so stupid, but this is the first time I’ve even begun to consider what would happen if I did.
“Right now I want you to keep doing that,” I say, brushing my hands down her sides and letting them rest on her hips. She’s soft and generous in that department. More than enough to grab onto. I dig my fingers in and she stares down at me.
“That’s not all you want,” she says.
“You’re right. I want a whole lot more from you.” Yet again, I tell her the truth, but she has no idea.
“Like this?” she says and then kisses me again.
Chelsea M. Cameron is a YA/NA New York Times/USA Today Best Selling author from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world's worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car and tweeting (this one time, she was tweeted by Neil Gaiman). She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.