Ruthless (The Privileged of Pembroke High #4)

by Ivy Fox

  “Or what?” I cock an arrogant brow.

  “I’ll bite you again.”

  “Yeah? Where?” I taunt, my mouth just inches away from hers, my grasp on her jaw unyielding.

  “I swear on my mother’s grave. I will bite you if you kiss me.”

  Kiss her?

  Was that what I was about to do?

  Suddenly the idea of dominating her with my tongue intrigues me.

  No. Not intrigues. It fucking obliterates every other thought in my head.

  I pick her up by the waist and sit her on the edge of the sink. I pry her legs open for me again, her little Pembroke skirt rising up her thighs, showing me how her skin bursts out in goosebumps with the simplest touch. With one hand, I keep her steady by her waist while my other finds its way to the nape of her neck once more.

  I lean down to get all up in her face, but the little vixen bites down on the air between us with clenched teeth. I’m lucky that I got away in time. Otherwise, she would have bitten my head off—literally.

  My menacing smile only widens as her feline gaze stares daggers into me. I inch myself in closer and pull away when she repeats the biting motion. Three times I do this, and three times she threatens to bite me. I like the fire in her way too much to stop, almost wishing that I let her teeth pierce my flesh again.

  The fourth time I go in, however, I go for the kill. I pull my hand away from her hip to grasp her jaw forcefully, clutching the back of her neck so she can’t get away. She tries to bite me, but I overpower her, and before I know what’s happening, my lips crash onto hers, kindling a whole different war between us.

  She tastes just like I remember.

  Sweet like strawberry sherbet and fiery as hell all at once.

  I groan and pull her further against me, her core rubbing against my stiff cock as her legs wrap themselves around my waist. Her tongue fights with mine in every way it can, but not once does she push me away. Instead, I feel her arms envelop my neck, her nails scraping deliciously on my scalp. I’m unraveling as her whole body melts into mine, the heat of her core burning my straining cock. I open my eyes to look at her, her lids closed, enraptured by our tumultuous kiss. My lids shut of their own accord, just so I can memorize the way her body molds itself to mine.

  Elle is scorching wildfire, and I’m desperate to feel her flames kiss my flesh.

  I let go of her jaw in favor of trailing one hand up her bare thigh to feel the silky smoothness of her skin. She groans unashamedly, and I eat it up, her tongue teasing my own. When I release my grip from her neck and grab her breast, kneading her pert nipple with my index finger and thumb, she gasps into my mouth. I stifle my own groan when her hot pussy chars my cock through the khaki material of my pants. It takes the restraint of a saint not to free my raging hard-on so that it can sink inside her warmth.

  To my chagrin, I’m the one who pulls away first because, if I don’t, I might end up losing my damn mind and fuck little Elle Grayson right here in the girls’ bathroom.

  The molten gold of her gaze makes it hard to bring back oxygen into my lungs.

  We stare at each other for one excruciating long pause, trying to remember the hate we feel for one another. Once I’ve gathered my wits and tap into the lingering memory of why I should hate this girl, I point an accusing finger her way.

  “No more games,” I order, but I’m not sure if I’m telling her to stop messing with Chad’s head or fucking with mine.

  She jumps off the sink and walks over to me on shaky legs.

  “Fuck you, Santiago.”

  “Play your cards right, and I just might.”

  The razor shards of glass her stare throws at me cut into my heart.

  She turns away and walks out of the bathroom, ending our little unsolicited sordid rendezvous.

  I go over to the sink and splash some water over my face, taking my time to slow the loud thumping in my chest. When I look into the mirror, my face is flushed as well as wet.

  “Get your shit together. Stop acting like a little bitch.”

  Easier said than done.

  Elle Grayson is a force to be reckoned with, and I might have finally met my match in her. But while Princess has spent most of her life tucked away in her ivory castle, I’ve lived most of mine in the gutter.

  If she thinks she can fight dirty, she needs to think again.

  She has no idea how dirty I can play.

  But she’ll soon find out.

  “What’s this?” Boy Scout asks before picking up the two cards I flung to the middle of our lunch table before taking my seat.

  “What does it look like?”

  “Well, let’s see.” He picks up the cards in each hand. “This one looks like an ID where I’m a twenty-five-year-old man named Carl, and this one right here says that you’re ten years older than you are and that your name is Jésus? Really? That’s the name you picked?”

  “I was trying to be authentic.” I throw him a wink.

  Elle snatches the cards from Blondie’s hands and stares at the pieces of plastic.

  “Why do you need fake IDs anyway?” she asks suspiciously.

  “Because Princess,” I begin to explain, taking the cards out of her grasp before she finds a way to destroy them. “Boy Scout and I are going clubbing this Friday night.”

  “We are?”

  “You are?” they both ask simultaneously.

  But while Chad sounds excited at the idea, Princess is downright livid.

  “Yep. We are,” I point to Chad and me, rubbing it in Elle’s face. “I tried to get one for you, Princess, but you could never pull off looking like you’re over twenty-one. Too damn short for it to be believable. Them’s the breaks. Sorry.”

  “Sure you are.” She slumps into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re not really going with this idiot to a nightclub, are you, Chad? What if you get caught? What if your parents find out?”

  I’d find her poking holes into my plan funny if it weren’t for Chad’s sudden pensive expression dominating his entire face.

  “Don’t mind her. She’s just pissed she can’t come.”

  “Hmm, I don’t know.”

  “Yeah, you do. Don’t let spoilsport get into your head. Listen, Boy Scout. You told me yourself you wanted to do something fun over the weekend while your folks are out of town for your mom’s hypnosis retreat. Which, by the way, I think is Murphy-code for just getting it on for two whole days in a hotel away from their kid. But I digress.”

  “Oh, Chad. Now you really do have to go if Saint is pulling out all the big words to persuade you,” Elle taunts with an arched brow.

  I could just strangle her.

  “What if they find out?” Chad asks instead of paying her any mind.

  “The only people that know are sitting at this table. I won’t talk, and neither will you. That only leaves Miss Tattletale here to run her big mouth. We all know she can’t keep stuff to herself.”

  Her cheeks turn an embarrassed shade of pink, her triumphant demeanor no longer in place with the memory of how she told the whole school about my pops.

  “I won’t say anything. You should go, Chad.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks as if he needs her permission or some shit. It’s enough to have me seeing red. The only thing that calms me down is how defeated she sounds.

  “Positive. It sounds like fun.”

  “Okay. Then let’s do this,” Chad replies excitedly.

  “Get ready for the night of your life, Boy Scout.”

  Checkmate, Elle.

  Let’s see you top this.

  Chapter 23

  Saint

  Watching Boy Scout sway about on the dance floor, arms in the air, with no inhibitions whatsoever, does something to me. His wavy blond hair is damp from dancing non-stop, the errant strands sticking to his forehead. The green jewels he has for eyes are mostly hidden behind droopy lids, but his smile—that golden smile that show
cases the deep indents in each of his cheeks—that sucker is incandescent. The intoxicating combination of it all is just too much for me to resist, and the urge to split the dancing crowd in two until I have him padlocked in my arms is overwhelming.

  But that’s not what I do.

  Instead, I lean against the beam just a few feet away, admiring his goofy-ass moves, taking a mental picture for posterity of the night Blondie said fuck it and decided to be free from all the bullshit.

  Even if only for one night.

  When I feel a tug on my sleeve, my eyes slant into a fine line at whoever wants to pull my attention away from him. Of course, when my gaze drops to the five-foot-nothing of a girl eyeballing me, I immediately return my focus back to the dance floor, a knowing smile tugging at my lips.

  I should have figured Elle wouldn’t let us come clubbing without her. If I’m honest, I’d be disappointed if she hadn’t shown her face here tonight. She wouldn’t be the spitfire I know her to be otherwise.

  “I see Daddy let you come out and play.”

  Her lip curls venomously, but it doesn’t tarnish how beautiful she looks one bit. I take my eyes off the dancefloor just long enough to scan her petite frame from top to bottom. In a mid-thigh scarlet halter dress and heels, little Elle Grayson looks every bit the she-devil I envision in my fantasies—sin fucking incarnate.

  Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who approves of Elle’s chosen attire tonight.

  If half the men in this club eye-fucking her right now knew that she was jailbait, I wonder if they would be so obvious with their lingering looks. I can’t say I blame the poor fuckers, though. She sure is making it extremely hard for them to keep their eyes in their sockets with that dress. Present company included.

  Who am I kidding?

  Elle could wear a fucking trash bag over her body, and my cock would still jump to attention, so how can I expect anyone else not to take notice?

  “What did you give him?!” she blurts out, her devil eyes fuming with hellfire.

  “Who?” I feign ignorance, knowing perfectly well what she’s going on about.

  “You know damn well who! Chad!”

  She points an accusing finger at her BFF, who is dancing away in his own little rainbow-colored bubble, completely unaware of the world around him.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She rises to her tiptoes and still only reaches as high as my chin.

  Cute little hellcat.

  “I know you gave him something, you big jerk.”

  “I did,” I reply, not even attempting to deny it this time.

  The seething look she gives me would probably terrify most people. Little does she know that on me, her scathing glare has the opposite effect. My cock stirs in my jeans as I watch Elle lose her shit.

  “Is he going to be okay?”

  “I just gave him half a molly, Princess. It’s not going to give him any brain damage.” I scoff.

  Like I’d ever hurt one strand of his blond hair. She should know me better by now, especially since we put all our cards on the table where he’s concerned just a few days ago.

  It’s oddly liberating, our new arrangement. Knowing where we’re both coming from and what we’ll do to get what we want means that we don’t have to hide our true intentions from one another anymore.

  If only Chad could be as transparent with us.

  She leans against the beam next to me, crossing her arms while her eagle eye never leaves the boy she loves. He, in turn, is having the best night of his life. Free of burdens and expectations, the molly liberating him of every responsibility he carries on his broad shoulders. Chad may act like he is always carefree and that nothing gets to him, but Elle and I know the truth. Inside the boy we adore lives a quiet brewing storm, threatening to one day pick up and blow through everything in its path. We just want to be there when it does, so we can be swept away by him, as well as keep him tethered to the ground, making sure he always knows where his true port is—no matter how violent the wind.

  “What did you do with the other half?” Elle asks suddenly.

  “Huh?”

  “I said what did you do with the other half of the molly?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want it,” she asserts, turning her body my way.

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  I lower my face just enough so I’m in line with hers, my menacing scowl front and center.

  “I said no.”

  “If you don’t give it to me, then I’ll just get it from someone else.” She shrugs.

  Little son of a…

  I loom over her, engulfing her in the shadows of the nightclub.

  “Don’t test me, Elle. I’m not above giving you a good spanking.”

  “You’re not man enough,” she bites back.

  “Try me and see.”

  Her jasmine perfume manages to wrap itself around me as we both stare at each other, neither one of us wanting to tap out. There is so much hate between us, but there is lust there, too. I can’t deny the little hellcat turns me on, especially when she has her claws out. Not that she’ll ever admit that I have any effect on her, not when she has her heart set on someone else.

  Someone that I’m determined will be mine.

  Not hers.

  But since I know she’s a woman of her word, I think of an alternative that will make her reconsider her threat.

  “You want the other half? Alright, I’ll give it to you.”

  I take the half pill out of the little gum wrapper I had saved it in and show it to her. Usually, I would have taken it already, but with Chad indulging in ecstasy for the first time tonight, I wanted to make sure I had all my wits about me to keep an eye on him. To keep him safe.

  “But there’s a catch.”

  “With you, there always is.” She huffs. “Fine. What do you want?”

  “You gotta come here and take it from me,” I tell her before placing the pill on the tip of my tongue.

  She goes to pick it up with her fingers but I back away, flicking my head side to side.

  “If you want it, you’re going to have to pay my fee for it.”

  “God, I hate you,” she bellows in frustration.

  “Take it or leave it, Princess.” I wink mischievously.

  Unfortunately for me, my plan backfires when she doesn’t hesitate as I thought she would. Instead, she pulls me forcefully by my shirt, silently ordering me to lean down until we are but a breath apart, our eyes locked in place by our little staring contest.

  Black versus gold.

  Who wins and who loses?

  Only one way to find out.

  She wets her lips before cupping my face in her dainty hands and swallowing my tongue into her mouth. The image of her doing the same damn thing to my engorged cock instantly assaults me.

  Fuck.

  Her mouth is warm and sweet.

  And like the asshole that I am, I make her earn this pill. I grab the nape of her neck and pull her against me. She sucks in a breath but doesn’t pull away, fighting me tooth and nail with her tongue until she gets what she came for.

  Once Elle swallows my little gift, she slaps my chest to push me off her and rushes over to the dancefloor. She throws me yet another searing look over her shoulder as she sashays over to Chad. The minute he sees her, he immediately puts his arms around her, lifting her up in the air like she is the best thing that he’s ever seen.

  My heart cracks down the middle at the apparent love that dwells in his green eyes. He doesn’t hide his feelings. Not with her. He loves her, and she’s the blind fool who can’t see that. And at this very minute, seeing his love for her so publicly broadcasted guts me up inside.

  I fiddle with my phone, not wanting to have such a clear view of them both, but I must be a fucking masochist because my eyes lift off my screen every so often to check on them. After an hour or so, Elle’s pill mu
st have kicked in because her movements become far too seductive. Chad looks at her like he’s hungry to take a bite, and my slashed-up soul suffocates me just as much as my cock rises to the challenge.

  “Fuck this,” I growl and walk up to them.

  There are people everywhere, but my eyes only see them. A song that screams sex rings out from the loudspeakers throughout the club, and when I finally reach them, Chad’s hands are grasping Elle’s waist. I put myself behind her and stare at him. He raises his head and sees me, and the look of longing in his eyes is just as powerful as the one he was giving her. Elle looks over her shoulder to see who stole his attention from her, and when she discovers it’s me, the disdainful look in her eyes that I expected to find isn’t there.

  Instead, her gaze mimics his lust perfectly.

  ‘It’s the drugs,’ I tell myself.

  But at this moment, I don’t fucking care. I press my body behind hers, placing my hand over Chad’s on her waist. Elle leans back into me, grinding her perfect ass on my junk, while mesmerized by Boy Scout’s smile.

  We don’t say anything.

  Not one word.

  We just dance with each other.

  Like we’ve done most of our lives.

  With Elle’s head resting against my chest, Chad lowers his just enough for his tongue to lick the slope of her neck. Her body burns against mine, every limb set on fire. Once Chad pulls back, he licks his lips looking even more famished than before.

  “How does she taste?” I grunt in his ear.

  “Like sweet strawberry tart,” he replies hoarsely before biting my neck.

  Fuck.

  Elle sighs in between us, apparently hearing every word of our conversation.

  I lower my head and bite her earlobe.

  “Maybe I should have a taste, too.”

  I pull her lobe into my mouth, and it’s just as Boy Scout had said—she tastes like the sweetest decadent dessert. One of Elle’s arms cradles my neck to keep me in place while she tugs at Chad’s shirt so he stays as close to her as he possibly can. I lower my eyes to his waist and see he’s just as hard as I am. Everything in me yells to either stop this madness or find a dark corner so I can fuck them both.