Chapter 282: Bite His Finger

Elvis looked into her shining eyes, asking, "Do you still want me to help Jimmy?"

"If you don't help Jimmy, this match is unfair. Someone beat him. Jimmy's our captain; I need to check the camera…"

"So what?" Elvis interrupted.

Olive looked at him, "What?"

Elvis lazily sat up straight, his handsome eyebrows betraying the indifference of a high-class man. "What does that have to do with me?" he asked casually. "It's your business; why should I help? Olive, I'm not interested. If you're smart, while I still have the patience, you should beg me."

The blood in Olive's head had already cooled considerably. Why should he help her? He was just a businessman, not her Mr. Augustine. Olive withdrew her slender fingers, her watery eyes meeting his. "What do you want, and how do you want to help me? If Mr. Augustine stopped the car, it's because you can take advantage of me."

Elvis frowned, squeezing her soft waist tightly, almost painfully so. "Is this your begging attitude? How do you know I'm doing this? Many people want my help. You're eager to use my power before even getting into my bed. 'Boss'? Do you really think of me as your boss?"

Olive's face paled. She understood his eloquence. He didn't need to verbally attack; a few sentences could deflate someone. He always assumed she wanted to use him, that she wasn't a good girl. This was a waste of time; she should hurry back to the basketball court. The second half was about to begin.

"Forget it. I'll arrange it myself. Mr. Augustine, I'm sorry." Olive climbed down from his thighs.

Elvis's eyes darkened, his handsome face grim. He prided himself on his self-control; no one could affect his emotions. Yet, she had, easily angering him. He circled his arm around her waist, pulling her back. "Olive Hart, are you kidding me? Who gave you permission to run away?"

Olive's slender body hit his hard chest like a wall. She winced in pain, her hands pushing against him. "What are you doing? Let go of me!"

Elvis didn't move, his eyes cold as he watched her struggle. He pinched her jaw, forcing her to look up. "What am I to you? When you're in a good mood, you tempt me; when I'm hooked, you show your true face. No one has ever dared to treat me like this before, so today I'll teach you a lesson!" He lowered his head and aggressively kissed her.

Olive's pupils constricted. She hadn't expected it. He kissed her roughly, violently. She clenched her fist, pushing him away, refusing to open her mouth. He held her, but her body writhed. He felt he was punishing himself, not her. Lustful scarlet tinged the corners of his eyes. Seeing her refusal, he pinched her face. "Open your mouth!"

She wouldn't! Olive glared at him. He, too, didn't close his eyes, looking into her angry eyes. She had no power to stop him, a ferocious little wild cat, which only made him want to bully her more.

"Why won't you kiss me? Has anyone kissed you? Noah, or Jimmy?" He pressed his thumb to her lips, wiping them vigorously.

Olive was furious. The Mr. Augustine of three months later was not the one she remembered. Why was he so cruel? She opened her mouth and bit his index finger. He yelped in pain; she had bitten hard, drawing blood. This, however, stimulated him. If he continued, he wouldn't be able to control himself. His throat worked, and he hoarsely said, "Get off my lap! Get out of my car!"

Olive quickly released him, scrambled down, and fled. She left.

Elvis looked down at his bleeding finger, bearing the imprint of her teeth. He hadn't expected her to bite so hard. He covered his eyes, a hint of indulgence and decadence visible. His phone rang—his psychiatrist, Dr. Kellerman.

Elvis answered in a deep, hoarse voice, "Hello."

"Mr. Augustine, have you had time recently? Let's prepare for the next step of therapy, beneficial for your physical recovery."

Elvis lowered his eyelids. "No need. I recovered."

"Recovered?"

"I met a girl. The first time I saw her, I recovered and had a wild dream. Now, every time I see her, it's like I've taken a drug. My mind is full of thoughts about what happened between us. Do you think I'm okay?"

Before Dr. Kellerman could answer, Elvis hung up.

Olive, having regained her composure, returned to the basketball court. The students of Bright Star and Watson were waiting. Alicia rushed over. "Olive, what's wrong? Did you find Mr. Augustine and get the surveillance video?"

Crystal licked her lips. "I guess… you didn't. Elvis wouldn't give it to you."

Jason and the others teased, "Olive, who do you think you are? You overestimate yourself."

"Olive, you must have returned empty-handed. It's okay. We won't laugh at you."

"Give it up, Watson. You'll lose miserably. The winner forever is Bright Star!"