by E. M. Snow
What the hell am I supposed to do then?
Maybe I should try to reach out to him and beat him to the punch. Figure out what it is he wants before he ruins my life. Which he definitely will, if he tells anyone anything about us. It’d be a huge risk for him, but he might hate me enough that he’s willing to take that risk. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I have no idea what to do. There’s no one I can talk to about this. No one to turn to for advice, or even to unburden myself to. My history with Dylan is just sitting in my gut, rotting me from the inside out.
I can only imagine what would happen if anyone around here found out about him. I can only imagine what Saint would do if he ever discovered the truth.
I bet his current rage would pale in comparison.
I’m so lost in thought, I don’t notice the cluster of girls in my path ahead until I’m nearly upon them. I come to an abrupt stop as they block the sidewalk, fanning out around me in an arch. Shit. This can’t be good.
One of the girls takes a step forward, separating herself from the pack. I recognize her. She might be a junior, but I’ve never spoken to her. I’ve never spoken to any of these people.
“Where do you think you’re going, skinny bitch?” she snaps, folding her arms over her chest.
I fist my hands. “Please move.”
“Do you have no shame?” another of the girls snarls.
“What do I need to be ashamed of?” I demand. I have this terrible feeling deep in my belly that I know where this is going, but I’m going to make these bitches say it out loud and to my face.
“It’s your fault Liam and Saint aren’t friends anymore,” the first girl hisses. “You fucked everything up between them, and everyone hates you for it. Why don’t you just quit this school? Or better yet, why don’t you just—”
“What the fuck is happening here?” a deep voice booms behind me. Recognizing it instantly, I cringe then whirl around, stunned to find Saint standing just a few feet away. Fury is turning his gaze to blue fire, but he’s not directing it toward me.
He’s glaring at the girls around me.
“Saint!” the first girl gasps. I glance over my shoulder and have to fight not to grin at the wide eyes and expressions of straight up fear I see. “W-we were just telling this slut…”
“Call her a slut again, and I’ll ruin your fucking lives from this point until you graduate from this place,” he snarls. I turn my gaze back to him, surprised. Why’s he defending me? Isn’t he still angry with me?
The stupid girl doesn’t seem to understand the tumultuous territory she’s tiptoeing through. “But … but Saint, she—”
“Get the fuck out of here,” he barks.
I hear the girls gasp and squeak in fright, and then their feet clatter against the sidewalk as they hurry to run away. I don’t bother to watch them go, though. My eyes remained locked on him approaching me like a predator.
When we’re alone, he lowers his chin, until we’re eye to eye—his storm versus my tsunami.
“What was that?” I demand.
His nostrils flare. “Just because I’m pissed at you doesn’t mean they get to talk to you like that.”
“Not without your permission, that is?” At his stony expression, I take a breath, my heart humming and my cheeks heating. “I wish you’d let me explain,” I say. “This is all a big misunderstanding…”
“That you were at the fight with Liam, or that he was practically on top of you in public?”
Any soft emotion his protectiveness might have provoked in me is gone in an instant. I narrow my eyes and clench my teeth in irritation.
“I wasn’t at the fight with him, we both just happened to be there. And he wasn’t on top of me! The crowd was too loud for me to hear him, and he was just whispering in my ear. That’s it.”
“What was he whispering?” he asks, his tone still suspicious.
I roll my eyes. “None of your goddamn business.”
“And you expect me to just take your word that it was completely innocent?”
God, he’s acting like a jealous boyfriend!
“You can believe whatever you want, but you seem to forget that we’re not exclusive. We’re not even dating, technically. If I talk to another guy, you can’t freak out about it, just like I don’t freak out knowing you’re likely hooking up with half the female population here and—”
“I’m not fucking anyone but you.”
It takes me a moment to truly comprehend what he said. When his words settle into my mind, I gawk up at him in shock.
“Wh-what?”
He doesn’t flinch from my gaze when he repeats himself, emphasizing every syllable. “I’m not fucking anyone but you.”
Now, my heart is slamming against my ribcage and I don’t know what to say in response right away. I hadn’t thought about him with other girls too much. I hadn’t wanted to. A part of me had figured he wasn’t sleeping with a lot of other people, since he was spending nearly every night with me, but I hadn’t dared assumed he’d stopped messing around completely. To find out he’s only been with me is…
I puff out a shallow breath then drag my hands over my face. “I … I didn’t ask you to do that.” I don’t know what else to say. It’s the truth, though. It wasn’t an expectation on my part for our arrangement, though a pleasant and not unwelcome surprise.
He shrugs nonchalantly, as if his monogamy means nothing, when in truth it means a shit ton. “Why should I keep chasing pussy when I have a steady ride whenever I want?”
He’s trying to be brusque and downplay the significance of his actions, but I see right through his bullshit.
I fold my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes up at him.
“Is that why you’ve been acting like such a dick? You thought your steady ride was being jacked?”
His jaw tenses. “I don’t like when someone else touches what’s mine.”
“I’m not your—” I start but his hand comes up to cup my face, and his thumb pulls at my bottom lip.
“You keep saying that, and you keep being wrong,” he murmurs. A moment of silence stretches between us, and it’s heavy with some new emotion. I’m not sure what, or rather, I’m not sure I want to dig too deep into what it might be.
At length, I finally whisper, “What now?”
Instead of answering me, he leans down and presses his lips to mine in a quick kiss.
Pulling back so we’re a breath apart, he answers, “Now, you just look forward to tonight because when I come to your room, you’re not getting rid of me until morning.”
I shiver at the heated promise in his words.
Saint and I resume our nightly activities together, and it’s as good as ever.
At least, it would be if he wasn’t acting weird. Again.
After we’re done, and we’re just lying together talking, he’s started back in on trying to get me to leave Angelview. This time, he’s switched tactics and is now suggesting other private schools for me to attend.
“St. Hildegard’s supposed to have an excellent swim team,” he points out to me a few days before Thanksgiving Break. “Plus, it’s an all-girls school, so I don’t have to worry about any strange dick chasing after you.”
I prop myself up on my side and gaze down at him with a frown.
“We’ve been over this before,” I say, releasing a sigh. “I’m not leaving. Besides, I can’t afford any other school. I’m only here because of my scholarship.”
Which is something I’ve told him a million times. I don’t know if he’s just not listening to me, or if he really doesn’t get it.
“I could help you,” he replies. “Cover your tuition for you. It’s just one more semester, right?”
I gape at him. “You’re not doing that. No way in hell will I take your money.”
He lets out a growl. “Come on, Mallory. Anywhere is better than this shithole.”
I’m certain that’s not true. I could be back at Rayfort High, which would be a thousand times worse than anyt
hing I’ve experienced here so far. I can’t tell him that, though. I can’t tell him anything about what’s waiting for me should I ever go back to my hometown.
I shake my head. “You’ve got to give this up, Saint. You’re not going to convince me to leave.”
His expression tightens and he looks momentarily upset. Frustrated and anxious. He always looks like this when I shoot down his suggestions for different schools. I can’t help the tug of worry in my gut. Saint rarely looks affected by anything.
But my continued presence at Angelview?
That worries him, which terrifies me.
30
Thanksgiving Break comes and goes, and my fears and anxieties begin to settle down. Dylan never showed back up at Carley’s, and I think that means he’s let go of whatever he wanted from me. Things between me and Saint are getting better, it seems, though he seems moody and standoffish still. He’s dropped the topic of me going to another school, at least for the time being. That’s eased some of the tension between us.
Somewhat.
Another positive development? Liam’s started hanging out with Saint and Gabe again. The Monday after Thanksgiving, I walked into the dining hall and found him sitting at their usual table, and I couldn’t help the smile that curled my lips. It was such a relief to see all three of them together again. I hadn’t realized how much it bothered me that they were fighting until they appeared to make up.
All three guys have started inviting Loni and I to hang with them. We’ve been studying for finals all together, as well as interacting on campus like we’re actually friends. It’s surreal, but not an unwelcome development. The rest of the school has eased up on their hate of me again, and some people have even credited me with reuniting Saint and Liam once more. I’m the most welcome I’ve ever been, which isn’t really saying something, but still.
One night after dinner, Loni and I are walking to the library together, each heading to a different study partner for the evening. She’s prepping for her AP Chemistry final, and I’m meeting up with Liam for English.
“How’s Saint feel about you hanging with Liam without him?” Loni suddenly asks as we near the library’s entrance.
Her question catches me a little off guard and I have to take a moment to collect my thoughts before I can respond.
“Fine, I guess.”
Loni looks as though she doesn’t believe that for a second. “You’re sure he’s okay? After everything they went through?”
I pause just outside the library doors and face her. “Do you know something I don’t, Loni? Saint and Liam have made up. They’re cool with each other.”
She shakes her head. “Sure, they say that, but I don’t think they’re being totally honest. You can cut the tension between them with a knife.”
I had noticed that things seemed strained between them, but I had chalked it up to residual pressure from their fight that they would get over. Maybe I was just telling myself that, though, to make myself feel better.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I say anyway, and she makes a face.
“Maybe, but I’m kind of waiting for the next fight to go down.”
Well, shit. Am I really being that naïve about their relationship right now?
Heading inside the library, Loni and I part ways and I hurry to the study room Liam and I have reserved. He’s already there waiting for me.
“Hey,” I say as I settle into the chair across the table from him.
“Hey,” he says, tilting his head in acknowledgment. “How’re you?”
“I’m good,” I reply as I unpack my stuff and spread out my books. “You?”
“Hmm.”
This feels awkward. We haven’t really been alone since we started speaking again. Saint is still the one who comes to the pool when I work out at night, and we’ve only hung out in groups so far. I fidget with my pencil as silence falls between us. I want to say something, anything, but my mind is completely blank.
“So, how’s the swim team?” he asks, beating me to the punch.
I raise my brows, a little taken aback by the innocent question. I hadn’t really expected small talk from him.
“It’s great,” I grin. “I mean, hard as hell. The Coach is a ballbuster, but I’m excited to be competing again.”
“Yeah, I bet you are.”
Silence again.
Shit. This was such a bad idea.
I nervously shuffle through my books and papers.
“We should probably get started,” I say in what I know is an overly cheerful tone.
He arches his brow, and I have a feeling he knows how nervous I am. I wish it could be easy between us, like all those nights in the pool. I half expect him to call me out and mock me for how weird I’m being.
Liam has mercy on me, though, and we dive into our studying without further delay. As we work, the tension begins to ease. Having something for us to focus on frees us to relax with each other. Soon, we’re chuckling and teasing each other, and a little while after that, we’re talking about things apart from English. The conversation flows easily, and for a moment, it’s as if our whole fallout over Saint never even happened.
And then my phone buzzes.
I pick it up, and see I have a text from Saint. My cheeks heat as I open it.
Saint Angelle: How’s studying? When will you be done? I want inside you.
My eyes widen at the message. He knows exactly what he’s doing it, sending me this. He’s trying to turn my focus away from Liam and get me hot and bothered at the same time.
He wants to remind me who I belong to while I’m with another guy.
Possessive, arrogant bastard.
I’m definitely not thrilled by this or fighting a stupid grin.
Not at all.
Liam releases a heavy sigh. “Saint?”
I glance up at him sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry.”
He shakes his head. “It’s fine. I should’ve seen this coming anyway.”
“What do you mean? Seen what coming?”
He leans forward on his elbows so that his face is closer to mine.
“Has Saint told you that he called dibs on you? Before you even threw that apple at his head, he claimed you and warned the rest of us the new girl was off limits.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “What?”
He shrugs. “It’s true. You were in Saint’s sights the moment you stepped on this campus. Kind of strange, huh?”
I struggle to believe that’s true. Why in the world would Saint be interested in me when he didn’t even know me?
“Are you sure about that?” I ask, half-expecting him to say he was just fucking with me.
“Ask him,” he says. “I’m sure he’ll tell you.”
Oh, I’m sure as fuck going to be asking Saint all about it.
Later, after I’ve left the library, having finished my study time with Liam, I hurry to Saint’s room. My mind is a whirl as I knock on his door. I’ve been burning with questions since Liam told me Saint had been interested in me before I threw the apple at him, and I’m determined to get my answers.
I knock again when he doesn’t immediately answer, and just as I’m about to knock for a third time, his door swings open. Saint stands in his doorway, shirtless, wearing a pair of low-riding gray sweatpants that reveals a tantalizing glimpse of his happy trail. I momentarily lose my breath and my ability to speak.
Goddamn, why’s he got to be so fucking hot?
“I hate waiting,” he reminds me with a smirk, leaning against the door frame and putting his impressive biceps on full display.
“So,” I murmur like an idiot. I can’t stop staring at his abs. Sonofabitch, why can’t I stop staring at his abs?
“Eyes up here, little masochist,” he chuckles. “I’m not just a piece of meat, you know.”
That manages to break my trance and I raise my gaze to his.
“Saint, I have something I need to talk to you about.”
Instead of replying, he reache
s out and cups the back of my head, undoing my long braid as he pulls me in for a deep kiss. I gasp, and his tongue pushes past my lips to lap at mine. Moaning, I melt against his chest and let him pull me into the room.
“I really need to talk to you…” I murmur as he directs me toward his bed.
“Hmmmm, later. Right now, I just need inside.”
“But, it’s important—” He silences me with a firm kiss, his fingers sliding under my shirt to skim along my bare skin. I shiver and grip his shoulders to press my body flush against his.
I try to hang on to my resolve to talk to him, but he steals my will bit by delicious bit. Before I know it, he’s yanked my t-shirt up and over my head, and stripped me of my bra. He pushes me down onto the bed and crawls up over me to race the tip of his tongue around each of my nipples.
I writhe and moan, my mind going completely blank as my body is suffused with pleasure. Saint moves from my breasts and leaves a trail of hot kisses all the way down my belly to my yoga pants. Hooking his fingers around the waistband of my pants, he drags them down my legs along with my underwear. Once I’m naked beneath him, he shoves my legs apart.
He dips his head, but just before he dives into my sex, he glances up at me with a wicked grin.
“Get ready to scream,” he growls, then he presses his lips against my clit.
I whimper and squirm as he ravishes me with his lips, teeth, and tongue. My fingers curl into his sheets, and when I come, I do scream. I scream his name over and over again until he lifts his head and lets me collapse back into the sheets. It’s a brief reprieve, however, as he shoves his sweatpants down to release his hard cock.
He crawls up the bed next to me then rolls onto his back.
“Come here, beautiful,” he snarls.
I push up onto my knees and move to straddle his lap. Taking hold of his length, I line him up with my entrance, then hold his gaze as I slowly sink down. I let out a little, desperate cry as he fills me to stretching.
When my ass is flush to his thighs, I pause and hold myself still, adjusting to being so filled. Even after so many times, it still burns a little at first. Once the little discomfort has passed, I begin to move my hips. It’s not the first time I’ve rode him like his, but he usually prefers to be in charge and set the pace himself. He’s feeling generous tonight, and I’m not going to waste my chance to have control over him.