Blackthorn Elite: The Entire Series

by Beck, J. L.

  “Dude, you have got to learn to take a joke,” Cameron taunts.

  Warren shakes his head and takes the seat next to me while Cameron goes left, and Easton goes right, leaving us in the middle of the two of them.

  I can already feel how tense Warren is, his arm wrapping around me possessively. Does he think these two are going to steal me away or something?

  “How is Harper doing?” Easton teases, giving me a wink. I’m not sure if I should reply or if that would set him off, so instead, I say nothing.

  I run my finger over the edge of the bandaged palm absentmindedly, when Easton’s eyes catch on the movement. He looks down and stops at my bandages. “What happened to your hands?”

  “Nothing,” I murmur, not wanting to be reminded of last night, but when I lower my gaze, I catch sight of his hands. His knuckles are swollen, and the skin is broken in some places. It looks like he got into a fight, even though his face looks fine, so maybe the fight was one-sided. “What happened to your hands?”

  “Nothing,” he echoes my own word, and I decide to be satisfied with that answer just like he was with mine.

  “Don’t you two fucks have anything else to do? Girls to stalk or something?”

  Easton taps on his chin with his finger, he’s handsome, but not in the same way Warren is. He’s more rugged and unkempt.

  “Ahhh, let me think, no. We love annoying you.”

  “Why have us as roommates if you hate us so much?” Cameron snickers and the only place this conversation is going is to the jail because Warren is going to beat the piss out of these guys if they don’t go away. I don’t know what it is about him, but Warren is beyond territorial.

  “I’m telling you now…” Warren clenches and unclenches his fist.

  “Warren…” I whisper into his ear and place my hand against his thigh. “Maybe they want to watch a movie with us? They are your roommates.”

  Easton and Cameron say nothing, and Warren stares at me for a long moment, before reaching for the remote. Releasing a sigh, I know I’ve won this fight. As he finds something to watch, I snuggle into his side.

  Warren turns on something called Game of Thrones, and the guys immerse themselves in it. After a short while, I start to fall asleep, but I’m startled awake when they start talking. I’m drifting in and out of sleep, but I’m pretty sure I hear them saying something about a girl who saw them do something.

  Warren tells them to shut up and runs his fingers through my hair.

  Easton and Cameron continue to talk, but eventually, their voices get quieter, telling me they’ve left the room. Now that we’re alone, I start to sink deeper like a stone sinking into the dark waters.

  Just before I fall off the deep end, I swear I hear Warren say… I love you, and somehow, that tells me everything is going to be okay. Even though his dad hates me, and we haven’t exactly been on great terms, I know Warren wants me. He’s always wanted me, and maybe this is our chance, our chance at forever.

  36

  Warren

  We walk up to the apartment building Harper used to stay in. The thought of her sleeping in this dump still enrages me. I am so glad she hasn’t been here in over a week. Instead, she’s been staying at my place, in my bed with me… where she belongs. Where she’s always belonged.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, and without even looking, I know who it is. My father has been calling and texting me nonstop, wanting me to come to the house and talk about Harper. He doesn’t want me to see her, thinks I’m making a mistake. He says it’s because he is worried about me getting hurt again, but part of me knows damn well that he thinks she is beneath our standards. He thinks I should date someone in our class. What he doesn’t realize is that Harper has more class in her little finger than most of the girls here.

  “You okay?” Harper asks, holding out her now healed hand to me.

  I take it before answering, “Yeah, I’m good. I’m just glad you don’t live here anymore. Let’s get all of your stuff, so we don’t have to come back here ever again.”

  “Fine by me. I like it at your place better… someone cooks for me there.”

  “And I like you at my place ’cause that means someone keeps my bed warm for me,” I tease, making her giggle. We walk up the stairs, the sound of her laughter still echoing through the sad-looking staircase.

  When we get to her room, she gets out the key and opens her small apartment. The moment she steps in, I can feel her tense up next to me. She doesn’t like being here, and again, guilt hits me. I sent her back here the night after I fucked her. After I already knew what a shitty place this is. Even knowing that someone broke in here, I made her sleep here again.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks, concern for me lacing her voice, and the irony is not lost on me.

  “Yeah, let’s just get this over with, and just so you know, you are never going to stay in a place like this again.”

  “If you say so,” she gives me a tiny smile before turning away from me to pack up her stuff. She gets a suitcase out of the wall closet and places it on her bed. She doesn’t have many clothes. In fact, the entire contents of her dresser fits into her one suitcase. I zip it up and put it beside the door for now.

  I try and help her as much as I can without getting in the way, but there really isn’t much for me to do. When she goes into the attached bathroom, I start looking around for stuff to pack.

  The kitchen, if you can even call it that, has nothing in it that we can’t buy her new. Plus, she has everything she needs at my house. No use for rusted pots and pans and mismatched cups and plates. Sweeping the room again, I catch sight of a pink box peeking out from under the bed. Curiously, I walk over to the bed and sit on the edge of it. It squeaks under my weight, and I reach down and pull out the box. I take the lid off slowly. I feel like a kid sneaking downstairs to open a Christmas present three days early.

  I mean what could really be in this box...

  As soon as the lid is pulled off enough for me to reveal the contents, I freeze. Hell, I almost drop the box when I see the small assortment of vibrators inside it. There isn’t anything crazy in there, but still, I’m somewhat shocked to find a box of vibrators under my sweet Harper’s bed.

  “Are you snooping?” Harper appears back in the open space.

  Like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, I slam the box shut and sit it on the ground in front of me, as if I never touched it at all. Harper starts laughing, and I won’t lie; she looks, so sexy smiling.

  “What, you’ve never seen a vibrator before?”

  “I’m just surprised,” I shrug, doing my best not to make a big deal out of it.

  “Why? I didn’t have a boyfriend after you, but I still have… you know… needs.”

  “Oh, I know your needs, all right,” I smirk. I know her needs very well. She was made for me and me for her.

  She walks over to the bed where I’m sitting. Her fingers trailing over my shoulders, and she sits down on my lap. “Maybe you can show me how well you know?”

  She doesn’t have to ask me twice. Pouncing like a wild animal, I have her on her back in a second flat, my hand wrapped around her delicate throat. I don’t squeeze because the point isn’t to show her I can hurt her. I want control.

  My other hand disappears into her jeans, finding its way into her panties and between her thighs with ease, her sweet arousal already forming there.

  Her eyes flutter closed, and she lets out a soft moan. I can feel the sound vibrating under my touch. I’m going to take that as a yes. With a smile on my lips, I release her throat and press kisses against it, loving the feeling of having her beneath me.

  I imagine this is how it always would’ve been with us, had we made it to this point. Teasing her entrance with my fingers, I dip one digit inside her and then pull it back out. I do this a few times, noticing how much wetter she gets each time I slide back in.

  “Stop teasing me,” Harper groans in displeasure and takes her own hand and pl
aces it over mine. “If you won’t please me, then I’ll do it myself.”

  The bite of her words sink into my flesh, almost as if she’s bitten me, and I swear my cock gets ten times harder. Pleasure swells in my chest, and I pull off her pants and panties in one move.

  “Show me,” I order, pulling back just enough to get a full view, wanting to see her finger herself.

  Harper’s cheeks turn a soft pink, and she bites her bottom lip in a seductive way that has me wanting to take that lip and bite on it, make it bleed.

  “I’ve never done this with someone watching,” she tells me shyly, and that turns me on more. At least I get one first.

  “Good. I want you to be all mine. Finger your pussy, rub your clit, make yourself come…” I say, swallowing down my need to go to her when her finger starts to rub against her folds. Her eyes remain on mine while I look between her pussy and her face, becoming completely mesmerized by her.

  Spreading her legs wider, her fingers start to move faster. One digit slips into her tight channel, and with the palm of her hand, she rubs her clit. Fuck, I wish my cock was her finger right now.

  I make quick work of my pants and boxers, so I can fist my length in my hand. Using my thumb, I spread the pre-cum that beads the tip over the head.

  Her head falls back against the mattress, and a throaty moan that I feel deep in my toes slips from her throat.

  “Stop,” I growl and march over to her. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my cock, and only on my cock.” Barely restraining my need for her, I grab her and flip her over. She doesn’t make a sound, and instead shoves her ass into the air, wiggling it at me. Doesn’t she know if you provoke the bull, you get the horns?

  Crawling up onto the bed, I situate myself behind her and bring the head of my cock to her entrance. As hard as it is, and it’s really fucking hard, pun intended, I slide into her as slow as I can, watching as she swallows every thick inch of my cock.

  My balls press against her ass, and I swear we both let out a sigh that is filled with both contentment and desire. After a beat, I place both hands on her perfect hips and start fucking her like there is no tomorrow.

  Harper becomes a sexy lioness then, pushing back against me, fucking me as I fuck her, and I’ve never felt so much being exchanged between two people.

  “You feel like heaven, like fucking home…” The words come out hoarse, and I shouldn’t say them, but I can’t hold them back. Not now, and maybe not ever again. My feelings for her are only growing, blossoming with each new day.

  “Warren, oh, god…” She cries, and it’s music to my ears. I’ve never heard a cry so fucking sweet.

  “What do you need?” I purr, trailing a hand up her spine as I continue to jackhammer inside her.

  “You. Harder. Faster. I just need you,” she pants against the mattress, and I let my hand move to the back of her neck. Brushing her silky hair away, I maintain a firm grip and take control completely, holding her down while I own her pussy like it was meant to be owned.

  Faster and harder, I thrust, swiveling my hips to make the head of my cock touch that sweet spot that I know will have her gushing all over me.

  “Oh, yes… yes…” Harper whimpers, her words muffled, but I can still make them out.

  “Don’t fight it. Come on my cock,” I thrust my hips faster, listening to the sound of our skin slapping together, and watch as our juices drip down my length and gather at my balls.

  Harper starts to come then; her channel squeezes the life right out of me. Once she starts to fall apart, my own release begins to crest. I come like I’ve never come before, my cock spasming inside of her as I paint her womb with my sticky release.

  Sagging against her, I press a kiss to her clammy forehead. I’m falling for her, falling deeper and deeper, and soon there won’t be any saving me. My heart is growing again, beating stronger, and if everything falls apart again… I can’t even think about that right now. Easing out of Harper, I grab a couple of tissues from her nightstand that still hasn’t been packed and clean the insides of her thighs. I can feel her eyes on me the entire time, watching my every movement.

  “Are you okay?” she asks for the tenth time, and I wonder if she can see through my mask, see how much I still fucking want her and how much it’s killing me to deal with all these thoughts and feelings.

  Not wanting to ruin what we have, I nod, “Yes, I’m fine, babe, now stop asking me every five seconds if I’m okay. If I wasn’t, I would tell you,” I lie, because I’m not about to tell her what’s wrong. I don’t want to talk about it. All I want to do is forget and move on. I don’t want to continue to relive the past.

  37

  Harper

  Warren has been acting strange lately, or at least stranger than usual. When he walks me to class today, Easton is already there, and, of course, he waves and smiles at me. I return the smile and wave before turning back to say goodbye to Warren, who is staring daggers into Easton’s head. I don’t understand his need to be territorial.

  “Hey, I was just saying hi,” I say softly. “I thought we were past this?”

  “I don’t care. I told you not to talk to him, and I’m tired of you doing whatever the hell you want. You know Easton pisses me off, you know his stupid antics make me lose my mind, but yet, you feed right into it.” Anger rushes off of him in waves.

  Unable to hold in my own anger, I lash out at him, “I don’t do anything. He’s your roommate, and I’m your… well, I don’t even know what I am to you. All you keep saying is that I’m yours, but you’re not mine. So, I don’t know what that means, but it surely doesn’t mean you have to piss in a circle around me.”

  The look in his eyes is feral, and his hands curl into tight fists, “You’ll regret talking to me like this. You belong to me, Harper. When I tell you to do something, you do it. Maybe I need to remind you of that.”

  Without so much as a goodbye, he turns and walks away, leaving me to simmer in my own anger. Gritting my teeth, I stomp into the classroom and take my usual seat, tugging my books out of my bag.

  “Everything okay?” Easton asks as I situate my stuff.

  “No, everything is not okay,” I growl. I don’t understand him. We never discussed what we are or if we are exclusive. Which doesn’t even matter because all I did was say hi. I can’t wave at someone like Easton, who I share a class with? What am I supposed to do? Look the other way when he enters the room?

  “Warren’s a tough cookie sometimes. When I first met him, I thought he was a douchebag. He fucked girls like it was a competitive sport, then you came into his world, and everything changed.”

  “Great, he fucked every girl in this school, but I can’t wave at you.” I snort. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. We’re just mad at each other and need some space.” Easton nods like he understands, but I doubt he knows a damn thing about relationships. Walking away, he takes his own seat, and the professor starts discussing the reading material from over the weekend.

  I’m knee-deep in notes, absorbing every single thing the professor says when the door to the room opens, and a woman pops her head inside. The professor stops speaking and walks over to greet her. They exchange a short conversation before the woman steps completely into the room. Confused, I set my pen down and wait for something to happen.

  “Is there a Harper Martin in this class?” the woman asks.

  I swallow thickly and raise my hand like a small child. At the movement, her eyes clash with mine.

  “Hello, Miss Martin, I need you to please come with me.” I nod and stand on shaky legs, shoving my stuff into my bag. A knot of worry tightens in my gut. Did something happen to my parents? I don’t know who this woman is or why she’s asking me to leave, but something tells me it’s not good. Tossing my backpack over my shoulder, I walk down the aisle, listening to all the whispers as I walk by.

  When I reach the woman, I look over my shoulder at Easton, who’s looking at me with the same expression I’m wearing. Confusion
. The lady opens the door and ushers me out into the hall, following closely behind me.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask.

  “We will talk about it once we reach the admissions building.” Even though I have a thousand and one questions, I keep my lips closed and follow her to the building. What could possibly be going on?

  When we finally reach her office, I take a seat in the chair in front of her long wooden desk. A metal plaque is sitting on the smooth surface, reading Mrs. Jensen, financial aid. Only then does it occur to me that this may have to do with my scholarship.

  Taking the seat opposite me, she crosses her hands in front of her and looks me straight in the eyes, disappointment reflecting back at me.

  “Do you have any idea why I have called you into my office?”

  I shake my head because I’m smart enough not to question until I have all the answers.

  She nods her head, “Blackthorn was recently made aware by a concerned patron that you’re not living in the dorms but are receiving payments for housing through the school. If you don’t live on campus and are receiving payments specifically for that expense, you are committing fraud.”

  My mouth pops open and closes and then opens again. This is worse than I thought, so much worse.

  “Effective immediately, you will no longer receive housing payment, and furthermore, we need you to repay that money as soon as possible. If you fail to repay the money, we will be forced to pull your scholarship.”

  Shock, rage, dread, and sadness all engulf me at once. Through the fog of emotions surrounding me, one name pops into my head. Warren. He did this. He threatened me time and time again, and now he finally did it, and all over what? Me waving at Easton?

  “I don’t have that kind of money. I’m using the money to rent a cheaper place off-campus and the rest of the money to pay for food and books. Surely, there is something that we can do to fix this?” I reply desperately, pinning Mrs. Jensen with a pleading stare.