Tarnished Vow: A Student Teacher Forbidden Dark Romance (Boys of St. Augustine Book 2)

by R Holmes

  Presley had inserted herself into my heart, and now there was no going back.

  "How about you tell me you cheated," she whispers in the sexiest voice I've ever fucking heard, crawling around the table to plant herself in my lap with her fingers entwined in my hair, "And I'll let you fuck me, right..." She rolls her hips against my already straining cock, "here."

  Her tongue darts out to suck my earlobe into her mouth, and a shiver racks my body.

  "Ah, you little siren, you think I'm going to surrender just because," I pause to dip my head to her neck, and suck the sensitive flesh into my mouth, hopefully leaving a mark so everyone she encounters over the next few days knows that she belongs to me. "You tempt me?"

  "That's exactly what I'm counting on, Mr. Pierce." She grins slyly. I love her smile, her eyes, fuck everything about her.

  My hands find her hips as I grind my cock against her center. I can feel how wet she is through the thin cotton of her sleep shorts.

  "Fine, I cheated. Now up, let's go." I spank her cheek, my lip turning up in a cheeky grin.

  "Ha! I knew it!" she exclaims.

  All I can do is grin. Being with Presley was natural, it had been from the beginning and sure, people had shit to say about us being together, but at the end of the day neither of us cared enough to let it stop us. She found a new job that was more her passion than ever, and I was going to support her no matter what she decided.

  "Hey, have you heard from your mom?" she asks while she picks up the pieces of our now finished game.

  Her question causes a pain somewhere deep in my chest. "Not since right after I got out of the hospital. She was staying with a friend just outside of Paris."

  Presley's eyes soften, "I'm sorry, Sebastian. She's going to reach out soon."

  Clenching my jaw, I nod. Without even saying anything, she knows I want to change the subject. Shit between me and my parents is rocky to say the least.

  I haven't spoken to my mom except for a lone phone call in the past month since the accident, and it was a rough connection that essentially was only saying she was in Paris and would check in when she was available. I hadn't bothered to answer any of my father's calls. I said everything I had to say and I meant it when I said he was dead to me. He could give the entire company to Max for all I gave a fuck.

  "Hey, I love you. Okay?" Her eyes search mine as her brow furrows in worry.

  Always worried about me.

  I rise from my spot on the floor and scoop her up, causing the scrabble pieces to scatter on the floor around us. Her legs wrap around my waist. My hands rest on her ass as I carry her back towards the bedroom.

  "Love you, babe. I can think of lots of other things I'd rather be doing, specifically to your pussy, than playing scrabble. "

  Her eyes roll in mock annoyance.

  "Mhm. Cheaters don't get prizes, you know that right?"

  "Give me ten minutes, and I'll change your mind." I grin.

  "You're insatiable."

  I don't answer her but lay her out on the bed in front of me, raking my eyes down her body, soaking in every inch. It's never enough with her, I always need more.

  Crave more.

  "Coming from the girl who woke me up not once but twice last night."

  She laughs, "Whatever."

  "How about I make it up to you? And promise to never cheat during scrabble again?"

  I move her shirt up and drop kisses along her stomach, dipping my tongue into her belly button. Her hands fist my hair.

  BOOM BOOM BOOM

  The sound of someone pounding a fist against the wooden door causes Presley to jump out of her skin, and I groan.

  "I'm going to kill whoever it is."

  I stand and adjust myself beneath my shorts, and she pulls her shirt down before we walk to the front door. When I open it and find Ez and Rhys on the other side, I'm shocked.

  "Uh what's up guys?"

  "Dickbag, we've been calling you nonstop for over an hour."

  Fuck, my phone. It was charging on the table next to the bed.

  "Shit, I'm sorry it's on the charger, I didn't hear it ring. What's going on? Everything good?"

  Rhys looks at Ezra and back at me before he shakes his head, "It's Alec. We have to go, now."

  "He's losing his fucking mind," Ezra mutters, dragging a hand down his face.

  Goddammit. “Where is he?”

  “The ravines,” Rhys says.

  We knew this moment would come, we just didn’t know when, or how bad. But Alec… was broken, in ways that none of us could understand.

  And just like so many times before, we had to save our brother.

  No matter how far he fell.

  Next up

  Alec’s story will continue in…. Corrupt Prayers coming LATE summer 2021.

  Get your copy here.

  * * *

  Keep reading for a bonus scene and free first chapter!

  Need more of Bash and Presley?

  Click here to download a free bonus scene of Sebastian and Presley.

  * * *

  Swipe to the next page to read the first chapter of Immoral Confessions, Book ONE in the Boys of St. Augustine series featuring Rhys.

  Rhys

  Everyone wants what they can't have. But, when it’s forbidden and illicit, our darkest desires stay hidden somewhere we never expect someone to look.

  Veiled by the dark of night, all of those shameful desires stay tucked away.

  We hide behind illusions. Perfectly constructed, never showing what's lurking beneath the surface. We’re scared to let the world see who we really are, what we truly desire.

  People run from those desires because they're fearful of what it makes them.

  They're afraid of the wickedness that has taken root in their hearts, to show anyone the ugliness that taints their souls.

  A sin is a sin, no matter which way you try to disguise it.

  Mortals have surrendered into temptation to sin for as long as time.

  It’s what God made us to do. Fall, only to be forgiven.

  Eve and the forbidden apple. David and Bathsheba.

  But what immoral confessions deem you unforgivable?

  How many times can you be tempted to sin before you're dancing with the devil and there's no redemption for your soul?

  Then… you're fallen.

  Immoral Confessions- Chapter One

  "Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us. And lead us not into temptation." Luke 11:4

  * * *

  "Move it, bitch." A hard, sharp shoulder connects with mine, causing me to drop the armful of books I was scarcely hanging onto right into the mud beside the walkway.

  Of course.

  The group of girls in their St. Augustine uniforms—red and navy plaid skirts, blazers adorned with the silver school crest, and signature red bottoms—snicker and giggle together as they stand there and watch as I begin to pick up all of my books they purposefully knocked out of my hands. But, not before throwing more insults my way.

  "Go back to Hollywood, whore. Daddy might have paid your way in here, but there's no room for trash like you," their head bitch in charge, Mara, spits my way. She gives me a snide, cold grin before turning on her heel and leaving me there with my jaw clenched so tightly, the pain radiates up the side of my head. Her posse of mean girls follow closely behind her.

  It takes strength from Jesus Christ himself not to cry in the middle of the courtyard, but I know it'll just make life worse. Then, not only will I be the outsider who wants to steal the most popular girl in the school's boyfriend, but I'll be the laughingstock of the entire school.

  Getting paired with Mara's boyfriend in chemistry and texting him to try and set up a time to complete said project, apparently made me want to sleep with him and, therefore, be shunned by basically anyone and everyone who was anyone at St. Augustine.

  Just another day at St. Augustine Catholic Academy, Catholic boarding schools’ very own version of the Up
per East Side.

  Where the girls are ten times bitchier, and unless you come from one of the founding families, you're not worthy of the ground their Louboutins walk on.

  And me?

  I'm a nobody. People look right through me like I don't even exist. Seriously, someone tried to sit in my chair yesterday in the library because they, and I quote, “didn't see me."

  They couldn't see an actual person. One who was occupying a chair that they wanted to sit in.

  Most days, being the nobody is exactly how I want it. I want to keep my head down, focus on my studies, and pass my senior year unscathed. Then I’ll get my one-way ticket to Harvard Law and never look back.

  Until the chemistry fiasco, I was happy being a nobody. Now, everywhere I turn, Mara Mikaleson is determined to make me as miserable as she possibly can. Her, and her posse of mean girls.

  It’s like they seek me out just to make my life a living hell. I'm lucky if I finish an entire day without being tripped, finding gum in my seat after I sit, or even better yet, having "slut" written on my locker in bright red lipstick. Mara's signature YSL color, of course. There is no doubt whenever I’m targeted by them, they make sure I—and everyone around—know they have struck.

  I bend down and retrieve the now soaking wet, muddy books from the puddle. Completely ruined. Great. Not only do I have to buy new ones, but they had all of my highlighted notes from weeks of studying. Down the drain in a matter of seconds.

  The huge bell that sits high in the tower of the courtyard begins to ring, signaling that I am officially late for my last class of the day.

  Late. Books soaking wet, and now I'll end up in detention because Sister Mary Margaret doesn't tolerate tardiness, no matter the reason.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket insistently, and I try to juggle the ruined books between my arms to retrieve it from my coat pocket. When I pull it out, there's a text from my stepmom, Victoria, with another reminder to skip the bread at dinner tonight because I looked a little "fluffy" in the picture I posted on my social media page.

  I groan out loud.

  Can this day get any worse?

  Truly famous last words.

  ***

  My head falls onto the book in front of me and I let out a frustrated curse. It’s been hours, and I’m no closer than I was when I started trying to comprehend ancient artifacts of Europe. I’ve been hiding in the library most of the evening, praying I don’t have to deal with Mara.

  The dark hue of moonlight shines through the immense floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows in front of me. Its colored rivulets of glass cast a pale glow on my history books that are spread out haphazardly on the library table.

  I’ve barely lifted my head from studying since the sun went down outside. My head aches and my neck is stiff from sitting in the same position for the past four hours. All I need is to get a C on this test knocking my GPA down. I’ll spend twice the amount of time trying to get back the points I lost.

  Exasperated, I sigh.

  It’s fine, Valentina, you’ll just end up back in California living with your father and stepmonster who will put a lock on the fridge in fear of you getting “fatter”.

  I slam my history book shut, then begin to put it into my backpack when I hear the entrance door creak open and muffled voices.

  Shit. No one is supposed to know I’m here.

  Sister Mary Margaret has been letting me study in the library after hours even though it is against the rules. I would die if I got her in trouble. I quickly gather my notebooks, pens, and laptop, and shove them in the bag before dashing to hide behind the shadows of the tall wooden shelves. My heart is pounding in my chest at the thought of being caught. I listen as the voices come closer and closer, and I place my hand over my mouth to silence the sound of my labored breathing.

  “I can’t believe we are sneaking into the library, dude. I’m surprised you didn’t burst into flames the second we walked across the threshold. Have you ever actually been inside a library? Can you even read?” The gruff voice echoes somewhere across the building, but close enough to where I can make out their conversation.

  Who sneaks into the library except me?

  “Fuck off. You’re the one failing English literature because you’re too worried about getting your dick sucked, asshole,” guy number one scoffs in protest, and I hear a fist hit flesh.

  “Chill,” the command comes from a new voice. One that makes my skin turn hot, and the heat rush to my cheeks from the one lone syllable.

  I peek around the edge of the bookshelf to try and get a better look at the group, but it’s too dark to see anything but the rows of shelves.

  “Why are we here again?” the first guy says.

  I hear shuffling and books being moved around and thrown to the floor.

  “Numbnuts was here last night and set his phone down on a shelf.”

  “What the fuck were you doing here last night?”

  Their voices are getting closer and closer, so I tiptoe further down the shelf, ready to flee.

  “Complicated. When the pussy calls…” He trails off and I hear how big his ego is simply by the tone of his voice. What a pig.

  Finally, they come into view and my jaw drops when I see who they are. Rhys Blackwood. St. Augustine’s very own fallen angel. He’s so far fallen from grace, everyone knows there is no saving him. When you hear Rhys’s name… you hear the sordid tales of what he’s done at St. Augustine. The rumors about him run rampant. When you hear of him, you’re either fearful of what it means to be in his sights, or ready to fall at his feet. It’s only ever one or the other. It’s a shame, because he’s so beautiful it’s ethereal. The second he walks into a room, every eye in the room is on him. There’s something about him that sucks you in, only for him to swallow you whole.

  He’s the most wanted guy at St. Augustine. Mara has been pining over Rhys since the second she laid eyes on him freshman year. Not that I’ve ever seen him give her the time of day. But then again, I don’t ever find myself in close proximity with the Boys of St. Augustine.

  Rhys is over six feet tall, looming over most of the girls here, including some of his friends. Dark hair that looks as if he’s run his fingers through it a thousand times, over and over in frustration. Sinful, dark eyes that seem to bore straight into your soul. Looking into them, they’re a pool of black that you feel from the outside in. His lips were crafted to fit him, and only him. Only he could pull them off. Full and always twisted together in a scowl that I’ve come to know as his signature expression. I’ve never seen him smile, and all it did was make him that much more desirable even if it wasn’t his intention. I don’t know who Rhys Blackwood really is, I don’t think anyone does. The mystery only adds to the appeal, and causes females to fall like flies at his feet. Everyone wants to know him, be his friend, have five minutes of his time. An unreachable pedestal that remains untouched by most.

  I watch as his lips curl in a snarl as his best friend, Sebastian, walks toward him with his newly found phone in hand and gives him a chilling smile.

  “Got it. Thank fuck.” Relief is etched in his handsome features. While he’s nowhere near Rhys as far as looks go, he is still strikingly handsome. Sebastian Pierce. The kind of old money that is seen, but not spoken of. And when it comes to him, I truly think he has more money than sense. While remarkably handsome and chill at the same time, there is something about him I can’t place. All of my thoughts on the boys are assumptions or rumors that had been told many times over. Sebastian is an enigma. Tall, strong jaw, angular cheekbones, piercing eyes. His dark hair is always mussed and unkempt, despite his family's wealth and proper appearance. He does his own thing, and no one ever questions him.

  Sebastian, from what I know, is the most down to earth one of his group. Not that I know much about them except what I hear in passing. They walk around St. Augustine and people bow. Untouchable. There’s no question; they own this school. It’s seriously sickening to watch the girls throw themselves
at them. Like we aren’t at a Catholic school where virtue is sacred and protected. Not to these bitches.

  But then again, St. Augustine isn’t like any another Catholic school.

  “We need to talk,” Ezra, the other part of their group, says, shoving Sebastian. He looks around nervously as if he’s waiting for someone to jump out from behind the shelves and catch them in the act. Ezra is the complete and total opposite of Sebastian. Where Sebastian is funny and carefree, Ezra is intense and broody. He and Rhys seem to be cut from the same cloth. Jet-black hair and piercing green eyes. The light caramel honey mixture of his skin makes him a rare type of perfection. Captain of the hockey team and an all-round manwhore.

  “Lower your voice,” Rhys barks.

  “Dude, we’re in the library in the middle of the night. Not a mouse in sight.”

  Rhys’s fists tighten against his sides, and he looks even more menacing than he did only moments ago.

  “This doesn’t leave our circle, do you hear me? I’ve already spoken to Alec. He’ll be back on campus tomorrow,” he barks, right after telling them to lower their voices.

  The air in the room shifts as they nod in agreeance with Rhys.

  “We fucking take it to our graves. That house burned due to an electrical malfunction. That’s what the arsonist investigator will find, and unless one of you open your mouth, that’s all they’ll find. We were never there, and we keep our asses out of jail.”

  What? A house? A fire..?.

  My heart beats wildly in my chest hearing his words. The library is the last place I should’ve been tonight.

  “Rhys… I think someone was in the house,” Ezra says quietly. His deep voice seems full of remorse. I hear the tremor and that makes me even more scared about what I’m hearing.