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Queen of Hawthorne Prep

Page 2

by Jennifer Sucevic


  Oh my God, I’m seriously going to kill him!

  “Do you realize the can of worms you’ve opened up?” When he remains silent, I hiss, “Now I’ll have to endure yet another sex talk!”

  “Guess you’ll have a lot more to contribute to the conversation this time.”

  Argh! He’s impossible!

  My lips flatten. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” I cradle my head in my hands as if it’s moments away from rolling off my body. “Given the fact that we’ll both have fresh visuals, it’ll be significantly worse.”

  Before I can whine about the situation any further, he pulls me into his arms and presses a kiss against the top of my head. “Want me to come with you?” There’s a pause. “Cuz I’ll do it. You know I will. It’s doubtful Eloise will appreciate my presence, but that’s too damn bad.”

  “No,” I grumble, some of my anger melting away as he continues to pepper me with soft caresses. “You’ll only make it worse.”

  “How is that possible when I make everything better?” As he snuggles against me, his boner pokes my thigh. “We probably got a few minutes—”

  “Are you serious right now?” What am I asking, of course he is! “Hell no, we’re not having sex!”

  “Aw, come on, babe,” he wheedles like a petulant child, pouty face and all. “Thanks to her untimely disruption, the cat is already out of the bag.” He gyrates his hips and the hard length of his cock strokes against my leg. “Your mom can wait. I won’t take long.”

  Not giving him the chance to convince me otherwise, I shove my way out of his arms before sliding from the side of the bed and stalking to my dresser.

  Kingsley sits up and the sheet falls down his sculpted body. “Looking good, baby girl.”

  He chuckles when I give him a one fingered salute.

  I grab a pair of panties and bra before yanking them on. “You need to go.”

  “Fine.” With an exaggerated huff of breath, he throws off the covers and rises from the bed before sauntering toward me. When he’s within striking distance, his hand snakes out, yanking me into his arms. As I land against his chest with a soft grunt, his lips descend. “See you tonight?”

  His sharp teeth nip at the plump flesh of my bottom lip.

  A sigh escapes from me. “Yeah.”

  “Same place, same time?”

  Those words melt all of my resistance.

  Most nights, we lay on the thick carpet of grass at the back of the yard. Tall pines delineate our property from the golf course. With my head pillowed against his chest, we stare at the dark canvas of night sky as it stretches over our heads. I point out constellations and we talk for hours.

  “Yeah,” I sigh.

  He grins and smacks another kiss against my lips. “Good.”

  “Now go,” I repeat, still aggravated at the situation I’ll have to contend with in a few short minutes.

  “You gonna let me get dressed first?”

  My gaze drops to his cock. It’s still impressively hard.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispers roughly, “you’ll get that tonight.”

  Yeah, I better.

  Chapter Two

  It takes five more minutes before I’m finally able to shove Kingsley out the private entrance off my deck. I pull on black leggings, a gray Hawthorne Prep hoodie and throw my hair up into a messy bun before reluctantly heading down the staircase to the first floor in search of Mom. Dread pools in the pit of my belly with every step I take.

  In a way, I suppose Kingsley is right about the situation.

  Is it really that big of a deal if we’re sleeping together?

  What did my parents expect to happen when they forced me into an arranged marriage?

  Once in the double story foyer, I peek in the study, only to find it empty. Dad is nowhere in sight. If he’s not in his lair, knee deep in paperwork, he’s at Hawthorne Industries. I suppose one positive to Dad spending more time at the office is that I’ll only have to deal with Mom.

  For the time being.

  As I step into the sun-drenched kitchen, I find her sitting at the long stretch of island with a cup of tea in her hands. Her gaze collides with mine as I hover in the entrance. When she remains silent, I force myself to the cherry cabinet and grab a mug before filling it to the brim with java. It looks like I’ll need a massive dose of caffeine to get through this.

  After a few uncomfortable moments tick by, it becomes apparent that neither of us are willing to delve headfirst into this conversation. The tension rachets up until it becomes almost unbearable.

  “Mom—” I blurt.

  “Summer—”

  Abruptly our voices fall off.

  Her expression lightens as she shakes her head, expelling a lengthy puff of air from her lips. “I wasn’t expecting to walk in on that this morning.”

  None of us were.

  Unsure how to respond, I remain silent.

  When I don’t immediately launch into an explanation, she continues. “I didn’t realize you two were having sex.”

  I shift on bare feet beneath the heaviness of her stare. “Ummm, yeah.”

  “When did this start?” She rearranges herself on the chair before fidgeting with the ceramic handle of her mug.

  “Does it really matter?” I mumble, my gaze touching on her briefly before bouncing around the kitchen. I would give anything to escape this conversation.

  “Yeah, it does. I wish you would have said something,” she sighs when I remain tight-lipped.

  “Why?” Needing to occupy my hands, I lift the mug to my lips and take a deep drink, scalding my tongue in the process. I wince and hiss out a breath.

  “Physical intimacy is a big step in any relationship, and I would have like to know what was going on. We could have talked about it.”

  Oh God.

  More talking.

  Hard pass.

  Her fingers drift from the cup to the sides of her head to massage her temples. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she mutters under her breath.

  Ugh.

  Kingsley had the nerve to accuse me of overreacting, but that’s exactly what this feels like. An overreaction. “Mom, I’m eighteen years old. Weren’t you expecting this to happen at some point?”

  Instead of answering, her teeth sink into her lower lip as she glances out the window that overlooks the greenery of the backyard.

  When the silence continues to stretch, I add, “You know, Austin has been sleeping with girls for the last two years.” I’m not trying to throw my twin under the bus, but come on...

  A little perspective would be nice. We don’t need to turn this into some big deal.

  Her cheeks pinken as her voice drops. “Trust me, I’m more than aware of your brother’s...activities.”

  All right then. Apparently, there’s a double standard going on at the Hawthorne house.

  Lovely.

  Frustration rushes in, drowning out my humiliation. I snap to attention and frown. “So Austin can sleep around with random girls and I have sex with the guy you’re forcing me to marry and for some strange reason, that’s frowned upon?”

  She winces. “That’s not it.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” I ask, needing her to admit the truth. Maybe then, Mom will see how hypocritical she’s acting.

  She shakes her head and jerks her shoulders. “I don’t know...in the past, you never seemed very interested in boys or relationships. You’ve always been so focused on your classes, astronomy, and getting into a good college. I assumed it would stay that way for a little longer...”

  Well, she’s right about that. Boys have never been much of a distraction. I’ve dated a few here and there, but the relationships never amounted to much. No one’s ever captured my attention the way Kingsley has. Where he’s concerned, I’m like a moth to a flickering flame.

  “The only way I can explain it, is that it’s different when you have a daughter. I worry that he’ll
hurt you or God forbid, you’ll get pregnant.”

  “I won’t get pregnant,” I mumble. The only thing that could make this discussion any worse is if Dad were here, chiming in with his thoughts.

  “I hope not.” She pauses for a beat before pelting me with another question. “You are using protection, right?”

  This is exactly the conversation I was hoping to avoid.

  “Yes,” I groan, cheeks flooding with heat, “we’re being responsible and using condoms.”

  “Condoms aren’t good enough.” She presses her lips together until they are nothing more than a thin slash across her face. “If this relationship is going to continue, then you need to see a doctor so you can protect yourself with the pill or a shot.” There’s a pause as her attention sharpens on me. “Can I assume it will continue?”

  I jerk my head into a nod. Now that we’re having sex, there’s no going backward. Kingsley and I have had conversations about me going on the pill, but I’ve yet to find a doctor and schedule an appointment. We moved to Hawthorne in August. I haven’t even found a hairstylist yet, let alone a physician.

  “Is he,” she pauses as her voice dips, becoming barely audible, “forcing you into this?”

  Just kill me now.

  No, seriously.

  There is no way in hell I’m going to own up to enjoying the kind of force Kingsley doles out. Spontaneous combustion would be preferable. And then we wouldn’t have to worry about having convos about contraceptives and consent because I’d be dead.

  “He’s not forcing me to do anything,” I ground out, wishing she would drop this particular line of questioning.

  Mom shakes her head, appearing as out of her depth as I am. “I don’t know, Summer,” she finally mutters. “You might want to put the brakes on where this boy is concerned. I realize we pushed you into this arrangement—”

  Pushed me into it?

  Is that what we’re going to call being emotionally blackmailed into an arranged marriage when your still in high school?

  Keaton Rothchild may have been the architect of this particular agreement, but my parents went along with it. I was given a—we’ll be ruined if you don’t agree to this speech.

  For all intents and purposes, my parents sold me to the Rothchild family to maintain ownership of the family company. They should thank their lucky stars I’m still talking to them. I was furious when they sprung the news on me. Over the last few weeks, I’ve made my peace with it. So, in the grand scheme of things, what does it matter if Kingsley and I are sleeping together?

  “You’re right, I was forced into it.” Irritation fills my voice. “And now I’m doing the only thing I can and trying to make the best of the situation.”

  “I know.” Remorse flashes across her face. “At the time, it didn’t seem like we had any other choice but to accept Keaton’s proposal. The man was threatening to ruin us.”

  Wait a minute...

  At the time?

  What does that mean?

  “Has something changed?” A flutter of unease fills my belly.

  Even though Mom averts her gaze, it’s not quick enough to miss the guarded expression that now fills it. “We weren’t going to mention anything until there was more information.”

  “What are you talking about?” When I drop my mug to the counter with more force than necessary, coffee sloshes over the ceramic rim and dark droplets splatter across the granite.

  “Your father and I had assumed there was time to get everything sorted out. We didn’t expect...”

  “What?” My nerves ratchet up a couple hundred notches. Any moment, I’m going to claw my way out of my skin. “What didn’t you expect?”

  “That you would sleep with him,” she mumbles, growing red in the cheeks.

  I shake my head, unable to make sense of what’s coming out of her mouth. It all feels like a jumble.

  “What does it matter?” I pause for a beat before adding, “In a couple of years, we’ll be married.”

  Her silence has the discomfort at the bottom of my belly morphing into a tight knot. I don’t know what she’s keeping from me, but there’s definitely something. It sits between us like a living, breathing entity.

  When her attention stays locked on the yard beyond the window, I snap, “Mom?” Reluctantly, her gaze slides to mine. “You need to be honest with me. I’m tired of you and Dad manipulating my life to fit your needs.”

  “That’s not what we’re doing, Summer,” she whispers in a strangled voice. “Your father is working on a way out of this mess. We’re trying to help you.”

  Help me out of this mess the same way they helped me into it?

  I wince at the harsh thought as it flashes through my head. “Exactly how are you trying to help?”

  “Your father thinks he might have found a way to break the contract.” She expels a measured breath as if afraid to release the words into the atmosphere. “If that’s the case, we can end this farce without any financial ramifications affecting us or the business.”

  My eyes widen as shock jolts through me. My tongue darts out to moisten my parched lips. Out of everything she could have said, this is the last thing I was expecting. Maybe I’ve mentally groused about it, struggling to accept my future, but I never dared to imagine there might be a way out.

  Now that it’s a distinct possibility...I’m not sure how to feel.

  “Let me get this straight, after you forced me into agreeing to an arranged marriage,” my gaze hardens, “you’re now telling me that I might not have to go through with it?”

  Un-fucking-believable.

  “Nothing is for certain,” she mutters hastily, lowering her voice as if someone might overhear our conversation. “There might not be a way out, but your father and I...we feel terrible about putting you through this. It shouldn’t have happened, and we’re doing our best to rectify the situation.” There’s a pause. “Better late than never, right?”

  Is that a joke?

  I feel like I’ve been put through an emotional wringer.

  Thoughts swirl through my head as I draw my lower lip between my teeth and chew on it.

  “That is what you want, right?” Mom probes. “To find a way out of this contract?”

  Yes.

  No.

  I don’t know anymore.

  Why does everything have to be so damned complicated?

  Who wants to have all their decisions taken away? Especially regarding how their future unfolds? But the issue isn’t a simple one. I care about Kingsley. Does that mean I want to be forced into an archaic agreement to solve a decades old grudge?

  Hell, no.

  Side-stepping the question, I ask one of my own. “When will Dad know more?”

  “It could take a couple of days.” She shrugs. “Possibly a week. He hired another lawyer, a guy from New York who came highly recommended. Dad is hoping a fresh set of eyes with more experience in these kinds of legal matters will be helpful.”

  Are there lawyers who deal with contracts surrounding blackmail and brokering a bride?

  Interesting.

  I want to laugh, but the sound refuses to be summoned. It hits a little too close to home for comfort.

  Mom clears her throat, recapturing my attention. “Until we have an answer regarding the situation, you should pull back.”

  I release the pent-up breath held captive in my lungs.

  Pull back from Kingsley?

  I’m not even sure something like that is possible. Nor would he allow it. When we’re together, he demands everything from me.

  Everything.

  “You can’t tell him about this, Summer,” she warns.

  Fuck.

  “I know.” The thing is, we promised to be honest with one another and lying doesn’t sit well with me. It never has. But what other choice is there?

  It’s almost difficult to believe that one short hour ago, I was wrapped up in Kingsley’s arms and my f
uture with him seemed certain. So secure.

  And now...

  Now I have no idea what will happen.

  Chapter Three

  As I grab my lit book from inside my locker, arms snake around from behind, pulling me close until a hard body is aligned with my softer one. Before yesterday’s conversation with Mom has a chance to crash through my head, a smile springs to my lips.

  Kingsley buries his face against the curve of my neck. “Missed sleeping in your bed.”

  Even though it’s only been a month, it’s like I’ve spent my entire life wrapped up in his arms. Without him beside me, I tossed and turned for most of the night.

  “Feel better?” he asks.

  The bomb Mom dropped yesterday churned through my head for the rest of the day. Even though I felt bad about lying, I told Kingsley that I wasn’t feeling well, and we would stargaze tomorrow. What I needed was time to sort through my feelings. That’s not possible when Kingsley is near. He’s too much of a distraction.

  “Yes,” I groan when his teeth scrape against the bared column of my neck, sending a million shockwaves skittering across my skin. He knows exactly what to do to drive me crazy.

  “Don’t expect me to stay away again,” he growls.

  After last night, I don’t think I could deal with being apart from him either. “Come after ten.”

  “Oh,” he says, voice brimming with arrogance, “I plan on it. Probably more than once.”

  I swear this guy has sex on the brain all the time. Not that I’m complaining, I enjoy it, too.

  A lot.

  When I drive my elbow into his ribs, he chuckles, his hands sliding beneath the wool of my blazer before migrating upward and brushing over the tips of my breasts.

  “Kingsley,” I gasp, glancing around the crowded corridor. Thankfully, no one is paying us any attention.

  “You love it,” he whispers, tweaking the tight peaks.

  He’s not wrong, I love the way he touches me.

  “I slept for shit last night,” he adds, continuing to toy with my body. It’s like he’s trying to punish me for keeping him away.

  “Me, too.”

 

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