Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I have absolutely no doubt he’d send me back there if he could. But I doubt he can, not anymore. Not with Aspen trying to make friends, and not without Lucas getting involved. I still don’t think he likes me very much as a person, but he’s not thinking about me as a person when he’s inside me. The thought makes me blush a little while Brittney shows me the different sections of the library.
The more I think about it, the easier it is to see how perfect this is. If Lucas wonders where I am, I can tell him I’m going to the library. He can’t possibly have a problem with that—and if he does, maybe I can get Brittney to talk to him. She does seem pretty cool, as much as I hate to agree with anything Aspen says.
The next time I talk to Marcel, I’ll have good news for him.
28
LUCAS
“I promise. I won’t ever do it again.”
I press the tip of the blade against her creamy flesh, my cock surging as I work it in and out of her tight cunt. Fear tightens her muscles, squeezing me until it’s almost a challenge to move. Greedy slut, trying to milk the cum from me.
“How do I know for sure?” I push a little harder, savoring the sharp gasp immediately followed by a thin trickle of blood tracing a path down her chest.
“I swear!” She’s weeping, yet the fresh, hot juice coating my cock tells another story. “Please, stop hurting me!”
The sharp knock on my office door brings reality crashing down around me. I was roughly three seconds from pulling my aching cock through my open fly and jerking off to the fantasy of what I want to do with those fucking scissors and the girl who thinks she can hide shit from me. It’s been impossible to think of anything else, even while I’m in my office.
Whoever it is, I hope they don’t expect me to stand while I greet them. “Come in,” I bark after adjusting myself.
Quinton barrels into the room, red-faced, eyes blazing. “We have a problem.”
My pulse picks up speed. “What is it? Is Aspen—”
“She’s fine,” he grunts. “For now. Unless she and Delilah get even friendlier.”
“They’re becoming friends?”
He drives one fist into the other palm. “I swear to God. What is it with her? She’s determined to have everything her way.”
“Slow down. Start from the beginning.” One of us has to keep a calm head, and it’s not going to be Quinton when he’s practically breathing fire. “What’s happened?”
“She wanted to go to the library. Made a point of mentioning it to Aspen out in the hall. Don’t tell me that was a coincidence.” He barks out a sharp laugh.
“Why were they together at all?”
He lowers his gaze to the floor. “We ran into her.”
“Look at me.” He lifts his eyes slowly, begrudgingly. “What are you doing to Delilah out there? Have you been following her around? Fucking with her?”
“And if I did? Who would try to stop me?”
“I’m not trying to stop you. I wish you would’ve let me know you were, though. People see what you do and follow your example. If there’s going to be trouble, I need to know in advance.”
“I wasn’t doing anything much,” he admits before sinking into a chair and scrubbing a hand over his head. “Most of the time, I try to avoid that bitch. I don’t want to see her—and I’d rather Aspen not have to see her, either. The fewer reminders, the better.”
“I would do the same.”
“But I saw her in the hallway, talking with that piece of shit, Marcel. I couldn’t help myself.”
Marcel. His face flashes across my mind’s eye. “They were talking? Were you close enough to hear?”
“No,” he grunts. “She said they were talking about homework.”
“Did it seem like they were?”
“Not even slightly. I’ve seen enough people trying to make it look like they’re not acting suspicious. They might as well have worn signs advertising it.”
“What do you know about him?”
“He always wanted to be better friends with Matteo and Rico than he actually was. One of those losers who kisses ass constantly, hoping to become closer with the group.”
“Nobody important, though.”
“No—but I don’t trust him.”
Neither do I. Talking with her out in the hallway. I can almost see them together. What game is she playing now? Trying to get her allies together? Did she know him before coming here?
What were they really talking about?
Did he touch her?
“So I got in her face a little. Reminded her she’s not here to make friends. Then out of nowhere, she tells Aspen she was on her way to the library.”
Since when is she interested in the library? “I see.”
“You know Aspen. She jumped at the idea. She doesn’t get it.”
“No. She wouldn’t.” It isn’t easy to be fond of her kindness at a time like this. After everything she’s been through, she’s the last person who should be kind. That’s one thing she certainly didn’t inherit from me.