Loving you Dangerously

Chapter 4

The studio was supposed to be quiet, sacred ground for sleepless architecture students. But when Alexis Andromeda leaned across the table, eyes glinting with a dare, Trigger Lancaster's fragile control finally snapped.

He dragged her down, papers scattering like broken wings. His kiss was punishing, her blouse ripped open with a single jerk of his hand. She gasped but welcomed the pain, her body arching into him as if this was what she had waited for all her life.

What followed wasn't love. It wasn't tender. It was a storm.

He devoured her, rough tongue tearing moans from her throat. He shoved himself into her mouth until she gagged, until her mascara ran with tears. He bent her over the table, over the floor, over the cold wall, every thrust a curse, every kiss a wound.

She screamed his name shamelessly, begging for more, clawing his back bloody. He used her until his muscles trembled, until her body was trembling wreckage beneath him. Over and over, until there was nothing left but sweat, bruises, and broken whispers.

Finally, with a guttural growl, he spilled inside her, collapsing against her shaking frame.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Alexis smiled through her ragged breaths, fingers stroking his damp hair.

---

**Later that morning - Regalmont University**

The studio lights were harsh in daylight, exposing what the night had tried to hide. Alexis sat perfectly composed at their project table-hair sleek, lips glossed, uniform pristine. No one would guess she had been bent over the same table only hours before, her cries echoing through the empty halls.

Trigger walked in late, eyes bloodshot, shoulders tense. He sat across from her, their laptops between them like a flimsy wall.

Neither spoke of the night.

"Here's the revised site plan," Alexis said coolly, sliding a folder toward him. Her tone was businesslike, detached, but her eyes flickered with something darker when they met his.

Trigger nodded once, flipping the pages, pretending to study the diagrams. But his hands shook faintly, his mind betraying him with flashes of her body, her voice, her shameless cries.

Their classmates passed by, oblivious. To everyone else, they looked like ordinary project partners. But beneath the calm surface, their silence burned with everything unspoken: lust, rage, obsession, guilt.

At one point, Alexis leaned closer, her perfume curling into his lungs. Her lips brushed the rim of his ear as she whispered, too soft for anyone else to hear:

"Tonight again, Trigger?"

He stiffened, jaw locking. He didn't answer. He couldn't.

Alexis only smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, returning to her notes as if nothing had happened.

Inside, she was aflame. Last night had not been enough-not nearly enough. She had tasted him, broken him, claimed him. And she would do it again. And again. Until he said her name the way he said her sister's.

Trigger gripped his pen so tightly it almost snapped in half.

Across the table, Alexis's quiet hum sounded like victory.

---

Trigger Lancaster wasn't used to silence.

For weeks, Alexis Andromeda had been a shadow stitched to his every step-her perfume in the hallways, her daring smirks in the cafeteria, her hand brushing his arm just to prove she could. She was relentless, shameless, a storm that circled him no matter where he went.

Until today.

The morning passed with nothing. No teasing glance from across the lecture hall. No sly note slipped onto his desk. No high heels clicking behind him like a haunting rhythm. The emptiness gnawed at him in ways he refused to name.

By lunch, irritation had turned into a sharp edge. He snapped at his teammates during drills, barked orders sharper than usual. They chalked it up to stress. Only Trigger knew it was something else.

Where the hell was she?

By dismissal, his mood was venom. He slammed the driver's door shut and sped out of campus, tires squealing against asphalt. The city blurred past, but his mind was a storm-half relief, half fury. Maybe she finally got tired of chasing him. Maybe she found someone else to sink her claws into. Good. That's what he wanted. That's what he kept telling himself.

Then he saw it.

Across the street, parked outside a sleek spa inn, two figures emerged.

Alexis.

And Zayn Velasquez.

Trigger's teammate. Goal defender. Charmer. Playboy with a smile that made girls line up after games.

Trigger's grip on the wheel turned bone white. His chest tightened, breath catching somewhere between disbelief and rage.

Zayn's hand hovered at the small of Alexis's back as they walked out, laughing at something only they shared. Alexis tilted her head, her hair catching the sunlight, lips parted in a smile Trigger had never seen directed at him.

A cold, poisonous heat spread through Trigger's veins.

He slammed the brakes, his car jerking to a stop at the curb. For a moment he just sat there, pulse thundering, jaw grinding hard enough to ache.

"What the f**k," he muttered under his breath, eyes locked on the scene unfolding like some cruel play.

He told himself it wasn't jealousy. No. He didn't care. Alexis could do whatever the hell she wanted. She was a desperate, shameless slut, wasn't she? That's what he had called her. That's what he believed.

So why did it feel like someone had driven a knife straight into his ribs?

Alexis brushed a hand against Zayn's arm as they stopped by his car, her laugh carrying faintly across the street. Trigger's vision tunneled.

He wanted to storm across, drag her away, snarl in Zayn's face until he bled.

Instead, he gripped the wheel harder, forcing himself to breathe. He couldn't give this power away. Couldn't admit even to himself that her absence had twisted him inside out.

Yet as Alexis slid into Zayn's car, Trigger's stomach roared with something violent and ugly.

Possession.

He slammed his palm against the wheel, the sharp honk echoing in the narrow street. Passersby looked up, startled. Trigger didn't care.

"f**k this," he growled, jerking the wheel, pulling back into traffic. He floored the accelerator, speeding off, but no matter how fast he drove, the image burned behind his eyes-

Alexis. Laughing. With someone else.

Trigger didn't say a word that night.

He could have driven straight to Alexis's condo. He could have called, demanded answers, torn the truth out of her mouth the way he always did when anger took hold. But instead, he stayed silent.

Silent-but watching.

The next morning, he arrived on campus earlier than usual, parking where he could see the main entrance. His teammates were surprised to see him already there, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, eyes sharp as blades.

He wasn't waiting for them. He was waiting for her.

And when Alexis finally appeared, Trigger saw it immediately-her glow. She walked with that maddening sway of hers, hair gleaming, lips glossed. But there was something else, something lighter in the curve of her smile. Something she hadn't gotten from him.

Zayn was trailing just a step behind, his hand stuffed in his pocket, wearing that easy grin that made girls swoon. Trigger's jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might crack.

He didn't move. Didn't speak. He just watched.

Alexis didn't even glance his way as she passed. Not a smirk. Not a teasing glance. Nothing. The same girl who used to orbit him like a star had shifted her gravity somewhere else.

The silence ate at him.

During soccer practice, Trigger's temper bled out in violent bursts. He shoved harder, tackled rougher, barked at Zayn with a venom none of the others dared question. Zayn only laughed it off, clueless-or maybe deliberately provoking.

By late afternoon, Trigger found himself outside the Business Administration lounge, laptop bag slung carelessly over his shoulder. He wasn't supposed to be there. Their project wasn't due for another week. But still, he lingered, lurking in the shadows of the hallway.

And sure enough-Alexis and Zayn again.

They were bent over the same spread of diagrams he and Alexis had once worked on, heads close, shoulders brushing. Alexis laughed at something Zayn said, her hand brushing his arm lightly, casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Trigger's fists tightened until his knuckles popped.

He told himself it didn't matter. She meant nothing. She was just a body he had used, a mistake he should've buried.

But the burn in his chest said otherwise.

That night, he found himself scrolling through her socials-something he had sworn he'd never do. He lingered on her photos, on the comments from other guys, on every tag with Zayn's name attached. His thumb hovered over the follow button, trembling with something raw, something ugly.

He didn't press it.

Instead, he tossed his phone onto the bed and raked both hands through his hair, cursing under his breath.

"f**k, Alexis..."

But when he finally lay back, staring at the ceiling, all he could see was her laughing with someone else.

And all he could feel was the slow, corrosive burn of jealousy-one he refused to name.

---

Alexis had noticed.

She always noticed Trigger. The way his shoulders stiffened when she laughed too loudly with someone else. The way his jaw flexed when another guy's hand lingered too close. The way his gaze cut like a blade whenever Zayn leaned down to whisper something in her ear.

He thought he was hiding it, but Alexis was a master at reading him. And the truth made her lips curl in triumph.

So she decided to play.

The next day in the cafeteria, she sat at a table directly across from Trigger's usual spot. Zayn slid into the seat beside her, setting down his tray with an easy grin. Alexis leaned closer than necessary, her hand brushing Zayn's arm as she laughed at his every joke.

She knew Trigger could see them.

She didn't glance at him even once, but she felt his stare like fire on her skin. She dipped her spoon into her dessert slowly, teasingly, and when Zayn playfully wiped a smudge of cream from her lip, Alexis let it linger-her tongue flicking against his thumb in a casual, shameless lick.

Across the room, Trigger's fork snapped clean in half.

By the time soccer practice rolled around, Trigger was already seething. Alexis appeared at the edge of the field, her skirt swaying dangerously short, cheering loudly for Zayn every time he blocked a shot. She clapped, she called his name, her laughter ringing across the grass.

Not once did she call for Trigger.

And that was what broke him.

When practice ended, Trigger stormed off to the locker room, shoving past teammates who didn't dare stop him. His chest heaved, sweat dripping down his temples, fury clawing at his insides.

Minutes later, Alexis slipped inside.

She closed the door behind her with a soft click, leaning against it with that smile-the one that said she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Relax, Trigger," she purred, her voice a sweet venom. "It's just a game. Or..." she tilted her head, eyes glinting, "...are you jealous?"

Trigger froze, fists clenched at his sides.

"Don't flatter yourself," he spat, though his voice was rough, betraying the storm beneath.

Alexis sauntered closer, her fingers grazing along the row of lockers until she reached him. She tilted her face up, lips inches from his ear.

"Then prove it," she whispered. "Because from where I was sitting... it looked like you wanted to kill Zayn every time I touched him."

Her laugh was soft, dangerous, dripping with mockery.

Trigger grabbed her wrist before she could pull away, slamming it against the locker beside his head. His eyes burned into hers, wild, furious-hungry.

"You think this is funny, Alexis?" His voice was low, ragged. "Keep pushing me, and you'll see exactly what happens when I stop holding back."

She only smiled wider.

"Then stop holding back."

---