The Heartbreak Prince Duet

by C. R. Jane

  "Yes," I barely breathed out before his head dipped and his lips pressed against me again, but more firmly this time. My mouth opened on a gasp, and he slid the tip of his tongue against me. My body arched against him at the sweet, carnal sensation, and I let out a soft moan. Closing my eyes, I focused on him, and the tormenting flicks of his tongue.

  Wrapping his arms around me, he became impassioned, groaning as he lifted me up against him so that I fit perfectly in his embrace. I couldn't move, my only outlet the soft sighs falling almost soundlessly into the still air. I surrendered to the beautiful intensity, panting.

  His lips left mine briefly, giving me a chance to suck in oxygen since I seemed to have forgotten how to breathe correctly in the wake of his life-changing kiss.

  "Jackson," I pleaded. His lips met mine again in response. We began to move as the song switched again. But the real music was his mouth, playing artfully against mine. He looked down at me, eyes scorching and erotic, his mouth and tongue insistent and hot as he teased me. The longing and desire built between us, his mouth taking me higher and higher. I writhed against him, the dance becoming feverish. I needed, I wanted.

  I was still dressed in just my bathing suit, and he slid his finger past my bikini bottoms, inside my welcoming body. "Is this okay?" he breathed desperately.

  Two fingers plunged into me once, twice, his tongue flicked and rolled against mine, and he launched me into something I hadn't expected, something that I'd never experienced before. I exploded, and he caught my scream against his mouth. Waves of pleasure crashed through my entire body, and I bowed against him once more. His fingers continued moving on me, in me, pushing my orgasm on and on.

  When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I tugged his hair, and he gently slid his fingers out of me. Diving into his mouth, I relished the feel of his lips as they continued to stroke over mine. Without thought, I grabbed his bottom lip between my teeth, sucking on it. I drank in his low moan, and spurred him on for more.

  "Jackson?" His name was a question on my lips because I didn’t know what just happened between us. Our gazes met, his a stunning blue, mine bewildered by the staggering amount of emotion coursing through me for my best friend. The boy who had been my protector, my confidant, my hero...but never my lover. My thoughts scattered, frayed with unbridled tension, and I dissolved against him, mind and body desperate to surrender to this mystifying connection between us.

  "Jackson!" someone called out. And just like that the spell was shattered, broken, breaking off in the breeze as it surrounded us.

  "Shit," he muttered as he stared at me desperately. "Everly... I—" he began. And then Caiden appeared. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed how close our faces were to each other.

  "Hey guys," he said slowly, but there was an edge of anger to his voice that sent guilt spiraling through me. For what reason...I wasn't sure.

  "Jackson, get over here," he said, his voice forced. "Are my two people going to leave me to celebrate alone?"

  Jackson lifted an eyebrow at his brother's dramatics, seeming to be unperturbed at the position his brother had found us in. "The five hundred people at this party count as you celebrating alone?"

  Caiden's tense mood evaporated, and he reached out and pulled both of us towards him, clapping us both on the back before he dragged us back towards the center of the dance floor where a raucous cheer rose up at the return of the twins.

  I danced, but it was like I was in a trance.

  Jackson Parker had kissed me.

  He had kissed me.

  I had kissed him.

  What was going to happen now?

  Jackson, for his part, didn't seem to be having the same conflicted thoughts as I was. He danced around like he was Justin Timberlake, he and Caiden engaging in some dance-offs that had everyone cheering.

  He never made eye contact with me once.

  And at the end of the night, when I slunk into the pool house because I was too tired and too tipsy to even think about going home, it was between both boys that I laid my head.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  NOW

  Jackson

  It would be easy to destroy her, because I knew her.

  I knew all the dark thoughts she kept in that pretty little head of hers. I knew what made her tick, what made her smile...what made her cry. It was interesting really, how one person could call to both the best and worst parts of you. Before everything had happened, I'd lived for the sight of her smile. I'd spent years plotting how I could make her happy, how I could be enough for her, how I could be everything for her.

  Little did I know, she'd spent years plotting, too.

  I wouldn't make the same mistakes now that I had then— "Are you even paying attention to anything I'm saying?" Charise asked crossly.

  She'd been trying to do some kind of sexy dance that consisted of a lot of grinding on my dick.

  "Sorry, doll, proceed," I told her, shooting her a cocky grin that had her immediately melting against me.

  Simon guffawed next to me at the fact that I'd somehow managed to daydream while a hot chick was throwing herself at me. I said guffawed, because my outside linebacker teammate had a laugh that could level whole forests. I shot him a glare to get him to shut up. I didn't want to be reminded why I'd been distracted.

  Charise was an attractive girl. I'd give her that. Just my type with her black hair, and her fake boobs, and a mouth that was like a fucking Hoover. I'd banged her the week before in the locker room, and she'd been creaming for another round ever since then. She'd been a good fuck, but she screamed grade A clinger.

  That was why my dick just wasn't interested tonight.

  Or at least, that was what I was telling myself.

  "You got Landry pretty fucking good, my man," commented Tommy, one of the wide receivers on the team and the closest person to a best friend that I had at this school.

  I smirked as I looked over to where the hockey team was holding court after their win that evening. Landry shot daggers at me from across the room, and I gave him the finger. Fucking prick.

  I'd never had a particular problem with Landry. We mostly stayed out of each other's way, occasionally saying hello when we were both at the same party.

  Today...that definitely changed. He'd just been lucky I hadn't been manic today or I would've given him more than a black eye.

  I didn't want to examine too closely why that was — okay, I knew exactly why that was. I'd lost my fucking mind when I saw him talking to Everly.

  Everly. Fuck. I closed my eyes and tried to control my dick as I thought about her. There was a reason that I'd only fucked girls who weren’t blondes for the last few years.

  She had ruined me for all blondes.

  "There's a room open upstairs," came a whisper in my ear, and my eyes popped open to see Charise an inch away from devouring my lips. Fucking hell. I needed to get out of here.

  I leaned away from her, and she gave me a confused look. I could see how my achingly hard dick could be giving her the wrong signals.

  "I've got to get out of here," I told her, pushing her away gently and standing up. Her gaze greedily took in the sliver of skin peeking out from under my shirt. Shit, she was worse than a guy in front of a pair of perfect tits.

  Speaking of perfect tits... Everly's…

  I grabbed Charise and pulled her towards me, attacking her lips like I was desperate.

  Nope, still wasn't helping. I pulled back, swearing.

  Charise looked like she was going to faint. Faint or try and roofie me so she could jump my dick and have my babies.

  "See you around," I told her with a smile that I hoped would distract her for a minute before she realized how fucked up what had just happened was. I gave a sarcastic salute to Simon and Tommy, who were both looking at me like I'd lost my mind, and then I left before Charise could come out of the trance my kiss had thrown her in and follow me home.

  The party had been on Frat Row, and I lived off-campus with Simon and Tommy, but I
found myself walking towards the dorm where Everly was living. It was late, but all the lights were on, and I watched as some of the school staff walked up the steps.

  I grinned and took a deep breath.

  Yep, it was going to be easy to destroy her...because I knew her.

  Everly

  "Fucking snakes," Lane griped the next morning as we grabbed breakfast, shivering as I told her what had happened. "Who do you think did it?" she asked as I tried to decide between a Belgian waffle or an egg white omelet.

  Hell, was it even a decision? I grabbed the waffle, smothered it with syrup, and then put a big scoop of cream on top of it for good measure. "No idea," I lied, or at least, I think I lied. Jackson's face was starring front and center in my mind, but I couldn't be sure. At least not yet. It could have still been Melanie, who'd dared to bring a guy to our room at four in the morning. I'd just gone to sleep an hour before, and her beating on the door when it wasn't unlocked had almost given me a heart attack. My determination to get along with my new roommate had flown out the window, and I'd told her she wasn't allowed in unless the asshole with her left.

  Needless to say, we weren't on speaking terms this morning.

  I was really going to need to find a way to get a new room assignment before Melanie smothered me in my sleep.

  We sat down at an empty table to eat. The group of girls seated at the table next to us gave us ugly looks, like we'd just brought the plague to their side of the room.

  "It's kind of terrifying that someone at this school is throwing snakes at people," Lane said uneasily, looking around the room suspiciously.

  I shivered at the memory of the snake slithering closer to me, and I looked around the room too, even though I knew I was only looking for one person in particular.

  He wouldn't do something like that to me, I swore to myself. But then again, the last time I'd talked to him two years before, there had been utter blankness in his gaze as he'd stared at me like I was nothing.

  I'd never thought he could look at me like that either.

  I pursed my lips and pushed my plate of waffles away from me, my appetite disappearing.

  Lane continued to eat and people watch, and I stared at her hard, suddenly suspicious.

  "Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked, eyeing her critically. "Surely your job as my student liaison is complete now that I've been here a few days."

  She smirked at me and finished chewing before she answered. "I don't know how you could have missed it, but I'm not exactly Ms. Popular around here. I'm not going to run from the chance to actually be friends with someone who doesn't have a fuck ton of preconceived notions about me or the strong belief that primary colors don't belong in someone's hair." She sighed. "It's nice to have a friend." There's an air of vulnerability about her in that moment, and it called to me.

  I was pretty sure my soul decided at that moment that we were going to be sisters. Damage called to damage and all of that.

  Just then, Jackson walked in the room, surrounded by an entourage of girls and guys all desperate to get his attention. I swore all the air in the room got swallowed up.

  My reaction was utterly ridiculous. How was it that for two years I’d been immune to desire, and at the mere sight of this gorgeous, completely out-of-everyone's-league man, I was salivating like a bitch in heat? My reaction to Jackson had always been completely insane.

  I stared at him like I was obsessed, and hell, maybe I was. Lane turned to see what I was so entranced with and snorted when she saw that it was Jackson.

  "Do I need to start giving you five reasons why you should stay away from him every time he's in the vicinity?" she snarked.

  "Maybe," I muttered, distracted, as I continued to stare avidly at Jackson.

  It was like he could feel me looking at him, because his eyes caught mine from across the room. Maybe it was my imagination, but it almost looked like his steps faltered for a moment.

  It was his turn to stare. His intense gaze held mine for what felt like an eternity. His eyes continued with their hypnotic spell as his cohort invaded the moment, hurling questions and ideas at him as they tried to get his attention.

  I couldn't stand his stare after a while. The room felt like it was going to boil over around me. I stood, and my hands fanned over the brown leather mini skirt I'd found at a thrift store to make sure it was lying smoothly over my rounded hips. I licked my lip, a habit that I'd never been able to break when I was nervous, and his gaze tripped over the area I'd just caressed.

  When he finally looked away, I should have been relieved, but instead I felt lost.

  Lane dragged me out of the room before I did something crazy like try and talk to him.

  "What's your deal with him? Did you meet him before coming here? Because Eves...he's hot as fuck. But you look at him like you’re literally dying."

  I smiled bitterly as I tried to get ahold of myself now that we were out of his presence. "We were childhood friends," I admitted. "And now we're not."

  She seemed to get that I wasn't going to say anything more on the subject, because she quickly started a snarky explanation of all the frats on campus and why they all sucked.

  I nodded along, listening avidly as we walked to my next class.

  I realized when we were almost there that I'd forgotten the book that the professor had emailed us was mandatory for class. I had practically every other school book in the bag on my back. But somehow, I was missing that one. "Ugh," I moaned, knowing that my limp was going to make me late. "I forgot the book I need back in my room. I've got to go get it."

  Lane hesitated, clearly torn between not wanting to be late for class and not wanting to make me walk alone.

  "Go to class," I told her as I started to walk off. "Meet for dinner?" I called out shyly when I was a few steps away, the question making me feel nervous.

  "For sure!" she responded excitedly before rushing to the building where her class was located.

  I hustled back to my thankfully Melanie-free room to grab my book. I ran a hand over my sheets as I walked by...just in case.

  Thankfully they were dry.

  I was five minutes late when I finally got back to the building where my class was. Rutherford had three sets of different classes Monday through Wednesday, with Wednesday's classes being the only classes that were only once a week. Monday and Tuesday's set of classes had been Jackson-free, but as soon as I walked into the room for this one, Creative Writing, I knew my luck had run out.

  It was literally everything I could do to prevent myself from looking around the room to locate him.

  "Oh, there you are. I was beginning to think you'd dropped out of the class due to my brutal reputation," joked the professor, a man who was way too young looking and way too attractive to be a professor at this school.

  I forgot how to make words for a minute at the sight of his vibrant hazel eyes peeking out from a mess of inky black hair. I was pretty sure there was a tattoo peeking out from the top of his sweater as well.

  The smile he was giving me suggested that he knew exactly what I was thinking, and he cleared his throat to pull me back to the present.

  "You're Ms. James, right?" he clarified, and I nodded, still a bit tongue-tied.

  "Everly," I squeaked, and I heard a few snorts from some of the class.

  The professor, Professor Brady, I now remembered was his name, looked around the room. "It looks like there's an empty desk by Mr. Parker," he commented, and I froze in place, ready to bolt.

  I shook myself out of it though, remembering all the reviews that I'd read on the school portal online about how amazing this class was. I'd had to submit a writing sample to even be accepted, and I was the only senior in the class. All the rest were from the college.

  Jackson Parker wasn't going to take this away from me.

  I had to finally look to see where he was sitting so that I could take my seat. Although I already knew, I could feel his eyes beating into me as soon as I'd stepped into the classr
oom.

  He was sitting towards the back. I was sure the only reason there was an empty desk next to him was because everyone was afraid to sit there unless they were invited to. His features were carefully blank as I walked towards my desk, but his eyes were wild.

  I sat down, careful to keep my body as far away from him as possible.

  "Alright, now that we're all here, I'm not going to waste my time in giving you a long overview of the class. You have the syllabus, and you're not five years old. We're going to get right into it. This first assignment will help me see where you're at. I've seen writing samples from all of you, but I want to see how you do on the spot. Today, you're going to spend the next hour writing about your first kiss. If you haven't been kissed yet, we'll get you signed up for Tinder, and then you can write about what you want your first kiss to be like." The class tittered at his joke, and he smirked. Professor Brady's gaze met mine briefly, an interested spark in their depths that was hard to interpret. But I wasn't one of the amused students.

  I don't think that he could have asked me to write about something worse. I would have rather written about my dad blowing his brains out than this subject.

  Caiden had been my first kiss.

  I peeked over at Jackson. He gripped the desk in front of him so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

  I felt like throwing up, and I was actually grateful that I'd only had a few bites of my waffle.

  "Better get started, Everly," Jackson whispered harshly to me, and I cringed.

  Torture would be preferable to the next hour we would spend writing as I was forced to relive the moment I’d planted a seed that would later destroy my best friends.

  "Jackson kissed Marcy Thomas," Caiden told me in the hallway, rolling his eyes. "The idiot." I was twelve and the twins were thirteen, and while I knew that the girls at our school eyed them both like they were their favorite flavor of candy, the idea of Jackson actually kissing one of them was so foreign, it took me a moment to wrap my head around it.