All day long, I kept telling myself that he wasn't coming back.

Get over it, Alan. You never know when to give up...but maybe it's time that you did. You'll never see him again. He's not the love of your life. He doesn't even care about you.

I blinked away angry tears and fit my key into the door of my room. But the mere pressure of the key against the door made it swing open. I'd forgotten that I hadn't locked it.

He was waiting for me. In bed. He was lying on his back, his arms folded behind his head. He looked right at home there. But that was a thought I wasn't going to allow myself to get used to.

I dropped my backpack to the floor with a thud and smacked his boots off the end of the bed. "What are you doing here?" I cried.

I was amazed at how hostile I sounded. Considering how long I'd been praying for his return, that didn't make sense even to me. But I couldn't help it. I was mad. I felt used, even though we'd both gotten off earlier.

I wanted to scream and shout and punch his fucking head in. But most of all, I wanted to know about that kiss. "Why'd you do it?"

"Do what? You?" he replied with a smirk that made me see red all over again.

"I saw you. Last night. With him," I accused. Never mind that I had come at the sight of him going down on that kid. Never mind that he'd been with me first. I had no right to be jealous or in love. But I was, and that scared the hell out of me.

"Oh?" He moved off the bed slowly, like a tawny young cat stalking closer and closer. "So what'd you see, my rude little spy? Did you see me fuck him?"

"No," I moaned, shaking my head to dissipate the mesmerizing effect of those changeable eyes as they flickered between gray and blue.

"No, you didn't," he repeated triumphantly. "I didn't fuck him. So exactly what did you object to, my cheeky little sneak?"

I backed up, but he followed, pacing me step for step. "You s-sucked h-him off," I stammered. I wasn't scared of him. I was scared of myself and the intense feelings he stirred inside me.

He was a kiss away from taking my mouth. I couldn't look away if my life depended on it. One eyebrow quirked upwards questioningly. "That bothered you?" he whispered.

I could feel his breath on my lips now. "Yes," I admitted, feeling heat rush into my cheeks.

"Did you want it to be you?"

"Yes," I whispered back.

He grinned and I wished I had the strength to resist him. But I couldn't. I ached between my legs, the feel of his fingers restlessly threading through my hair instantly making me hard. As if he read my thoughts, he pressed the heel of his hand against the bulge in my jeans. "Mmm...impressive. Is this for me?"

I nodded speechlessly. I didn't want to open my mouth and betray myself. I didn't mean to. But he slipped his warm, wet tongue between my barely parted lips, and I was lost. When he broke away from me, his lips shiny with my saliva, I blurted out, "Why did you kiss him?"

He frowned, and for a moment, I thought he wasn't going to answer me. "Did I?"

"You know you did."

An oddly feral glint in his eye, Mark said, "Let me get this straight. You don't mind if I fuck someone, but you don't want me kissing anyone but you."

I bit my lip. Hard. But the pain did absolutely nothing to distract me. "Not exactly."

"How not exactly?"

"I don't want you doing anything to anyone who's not me."

Okay, that confession hurt. Because I just knew this was the part where he'd either laugh or walk out. And this time he wouldn't come back.