Lucien looks positively pissed off but when his business partner stands and looks over me, the anger seems to fade. The man walks forward, his eyes still sweeping over my body, taking in my face, my neck, my new curves and making me feel more uncomfortable than any fourteen-year-old girl should ever be made to feel. The man holds his hand out and I reluctantly take it, knowing Lucien would have something to say if I was to decline. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Skylah,” the man says, hungrily.
I nod while glancing at Lucien in confusion. What’s going on here? “Um, thank you,” I say, trying to play the polite daughter role.
“Skylah, this is Marcus Mahony,” Lucien says as though that name should mean something to me. “Marcus and I have been in discussion about the future of our families and you’re lucky that he seems to have taken a liking to you.”
I shake my head, not understanding why dread is filling me as I release Marcus’s hand. He steps around me, circling me like I’m some kind of prey. “Umm…okay.”
Marcus steps into my back and places his hand at my shoulder. He trails it down my back and skims it over my ass, making me jump away. My eyes bug out of my head and I look to Lucien for some help. Why is this man touching me? That’s not okay. “She’s responsive,” Marcus comments, glancing up at Lucien who nods in agreement.
Lucien catches my eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh and it’s almost as though he’s put off for having to explain himself. “Skylah, when you are of legal age, you will be married to Marcus. Your union will bind our business relationship and will benefit us all.”
My heart races as I stare at the man who’s supposed to protect me, but I don’t think I can actually see a foot in front of me. “What?” I slur, hating what I’m hearing. This couldn’t be right. Surely, he got something wrong. I knew one day he would try to marry me off, but I’m just a kid. What does legal age even mean?
Lucien ignores my question and flicks his gaze to Marcus. “Why don’t you take a moment to meet your bride.”
The fuck?
I shake my head and step away, but Marcus is on me in seconds. He takes hold of my shoulder and forces me forward a step as his dirty cigar breath bears down on me. Lucien strides to his door and walks out as though he didn’t just throw me to the Mambas and for the second time in my life, I feel that things are about to change for the worst.
Marcus brushes his hands down my arms, not once meeting my begging gaze. “Don’t touch me,” I demand, trying to pull away.
His hold tightens and I feel my eyes fill with tears. I’ve heard stories about what men do to little girls and it’s something that I’ve always feared, but Lucien handing me over like that…no. This can’t be happening.
“I just paid a lot of money for you,” he growls low in his throat. “So, if I want to touch you then that’s exactly what’s going to happen, you hear me?”
I suck in a breath, never feeling so terrified. His hands continue roaming my body and I hold back vomit. Something tells me if I run, I won’t like the consequences. I have no choice but to stand here and endure this torture.
Marcus leans in, placing his lips at my neck. I hear his deep inhale before his tongue trails over my skin. “From now on, you wear perfume.”
I swallow back, too scared to talk as he continues his assessment of my body. He grabs my hair and winds it around his hand like it’s some sort of leash. “Your hair is too long. It will be cut fresh in the morning.”
A tear falls but I refuse to wipe it away.
His gaze drops to my chest and he dives in, cupping them and giving them a firm squeeze, making me want to curl into a ball. “They’re small, perky, but I’m sure they’ll grow with time. By the time you’re mine, these will be perfect. There’s always surgery if need be.”
Marcus steps around me as I stand like a statue being judged, he never once takes his hands off me. His arm curls around my waist as I feel his body press up against my back. His rank breath comes over my shoulder and I do my best not to breathe it in.
He grinds against my ass and I feel his erection pressing into me but it’s his hand dipping down into my pajama bottoms that has me ready to scream bloody murder. He doesn’t dive down beneath my underwear so I guess that’s a positive but it doesn’t stop the fear from racing through me. “I bet you have a tight little pussy.”
I close my eyes, trying my best to remember my mother’s sweet face, hoping it can somehow make this nightmare disappear.
The sound of the door opening has my eyes flying open only to find Lucien. A small relief filters through me but now I don’t know if I can trust this man walking into the room. He betrayed me tonight and from the way he watches Marcus’s hand down my pants and hasn’t instantly scolded him, I don’t know how to be feeling.
“Now, now, Marcus,” Lucien laughs. “The time to enjoy her is your wedding night.”
“Oh, come on, Lucien. Just a taste. I need to know what I’m buying. You won’t purchase a car without test driving it first.”
Lucien’s gaze hardens. “Wedding night. Her virginity is part of the deal, take it before your nuptials and the deal is off. It’s your call, Marcus.”
I swallow back fear, feeling his hand tighten between my legs and I realize that Lucien isn’t trying to protect me, he’s trying to protect his business deal.
Marcus lets out a disgruntled sigh and I smell his breath hitting my skin once again. He slowly pulls his hand from my pants, making sure to press his fingers between my folds on his way out. “Fine,” he says, stepping away.
Lucien nods then glances at me. “You may be excused.”
I’ve never run faster in my life.
Tears stream down my face as I’m baffled with disbelief. I dart through the massive house, past the dining hall, and into the living area. I’m just about to hit the stairs when Maria’s piercing tone fills my ears. “What have I told you about running in the house?” I screech to a stop and upon looking at her, she changes her tone. “What’s the matter with you? Stop this crying. Your tears are going to stain your silk pajamas.”
“I…I…”
Maria lets out a heavy sigh before walking forward and wrapping her arms around me. “Is this because of a boy?”
I shake my head into her fake chest. “No,” I say, pulling back and wiping my tears on the back of my arm. “It’s…it’s Lucien. He wants to marry me off to this awful man and he…he touched me.”
Maria looks at me as though she’s still waiting to hear what has me so distraught. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong? What happened?”
“He…that man. Marcus Maloney, he put his hands in my pants and said awful things.”
Maria lets out a soft sigh and pulls me back into her arms. “Oh, honey. Don’t be upset. This is just what it means to be a woman. That’s our reason for being. Men provide and women serve our men. It is your duty to make your man happy and if Marcus is your man, then you’ll learn to bend to his will. Now, if Lucien has deemed that you will marry Marcus Maloney, then you must be grateful. He will be a great provider. He has lots of homes, boats, a jet, and I don’t doubt he will shower you with diamonds. Lucien has set you up with a very promising future. You must remember to thank him.”
“Thank him?” I gawk in horror. “He let that man touch me.”
“Don’t be so absurd. Your father would never let it go on that far, part of the agreement was that your virginity must remain intact for your wedding night. Your father made sure of that. He’s such a great man, always protecting his family. You were safe, dear.”
I shake my head in horror. Who is this woman?
I step back out of her arms. How can she not see how wrong this is? I was just used as a pawn in a business deal. “I…I should go and clean up.”
“Good girl. Wake early in the morning and make your father breakfast to show your gratitude for all his hard work securing this deal for you. I know he’ll appreciate your thanks.”
Without a backward glance, I bolt up the
stairs and into Blake’s room. He takes one look at my face and within an instant, he raises the blanket and lets me scoot in beside him “You’re going to be alright,” he promises me, knowing that whatever would have rendered me to tears couldn’t be good.
“Not this time, Blake. Nothing is ever going to be alright.”
Chapter 6
I drop down into my seat and try to smother the yawn that rips through me. What was I thinking of staying out late and smoking that joint with Maze? Though, maybe that wasn’t the reason I found it so hard to find sleep last night.
Slade Fucking Cruz. Why can’t I get him out of my head?
I mean, one part of me likes him being there because it keeps other memories and thoughts away but then the other part of me has been obsessing over this ridiculous little war. I shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t even be a thought inside of my head but he’s completely taking over. His downfall is all I seem to be able to think about. His demise, the look on his face when he realizes that I’m more than just some girl who talks big game, the second he loses his throne. These thoughts are a drug to me, but then, so is the feel of his big body pressed up against mine.
I’m not going to deny it, as much as I hate admitting it, Slade is fine. It’s no wonder he’s got every girl at this school begging him to tear their panties off and offering themselves up as a free for all buffet. I bet the girls daydream about sucking his dick. I bet it’s big. Long and thick with veins leading from the perfect ‘V,’ not one of those limp dicks that struggle to stand at attention and look like a dog’s breakfast. No, a guy like Slade is always ready to go. I bet he could probably get hard at the click of his fingers like a party trick. A party trick I’d love to see.
Hmm, hate sex. That’d definitely be fun. I can’t say I’ve really tried it before but I can just see it now, slamming each other up against walls, biting his lip while he tears my clothes clean off my body. His hands would be rough, hard and determined. Hell, I’m sure he’ll even leave bruises that I won’t bother to cover up. I’d wear them like a badge of honor.
Mr. Carver starts his biology lesson and I sink back into my chair. I’m not the biggest fan of biology but I’m good at it and if I plan on graduating with some sort of future to look forward to, then you better believe that I’m not going to miss a single class.
I’m more of an artsy girl. I like to paint, I like making sculptures and creative writing. I like to be free and that’s exactly what I’m going to be. I’m going to get myself through school and get a great college degree so I can set myself up for a successful life where I can create as much art as I want.
“Okay, guys. Open your textbooks to page 63,” Carver says, waiting a beat for his students to fall in line. “Today we’ll be revising all things genetics to prepare for your exam tomorrow.”
I open my book and scan the pages with a bored sigh. I only just finished genetics at my old school and received an A for my efforts. I wonder if Mr. Carver will reach out to my old teacher and get a copy of my test rather than having to sit through an exam I’ve already completed.
Realizing I’m not going to learn anything new today, I pull out my notepad and start sketching ideas for my art project that the rest of my class has already had a head start on, but I don’t let it worry me. When it comes to stuff like this, I can usually pull the ideas out of thin air.
My pencil freely glides across the paper as though its sole purpose was to exist for this very project. Delicate lines begin to form as harsher ones create solid lines.
The door opening has every eye in the room snapping up and dread instantly fills me. Crap. I thought I was safe here.
Slade stands at the door, surveying the class before him as though he’s the ruler of this very room. Someone should give the guy a throne at the front of the room and he’ll probably feel right at home, keeping a close eye over his loyal subjects.
His gaze falls to me and the grin that takes over has my gut twisting in pain. He strides forward as Mr. Carver gets sick of his wasted time. “Cruz, you’re late. Hurry up and find your seat.”
His grin seems to widen but his slow pace and intense stare warn me that I need to prepare myself. It’s only my second day here. How is it possible that I’m about to go for round three with the guy? He must be a real sucker for torture because that’s all he’s going to get out of me.
Maybe the guy enjoys a woman putting him down. You know, there are plenty of dudes who get off on that kind of thing. They spend the day being at the top of their game, the big dog with the world bending at their will, but then the one who won’t fall in line comes along and suddenly they’re so hard they could explode. Yeah, I know I hardly know the guy, but that’s got Slade Cruz written all over it. I wonder how far he’ll take it. I bet he wants to be tied up and spanked.
Just when I think Slade is going to walk straight past me, he stops by my seat and places one hand down on the table while the other falls to the back of my seat, caging me in as though I’m some sort of animal.
I turn to look up at him and the heat in his eyes throws me off guard for the shortest second. I raise my chin, daring him to say whatever bullshit he’s got planned for me this morning. He leans in and time slows down. I feel the blood rushing through my body and pumping loudly in my ears.
Maybe I’m the one who enjoys the torture because, damn, this is kinda exciting. Well, I guess I’ve already established that I enjoy the torture. Though, perhaps ‘enjoy’ is the wrong word. I like the rush that feuding with this guy brings. I like that his presence is enough to make me forget the pain and I more than like that when he’s hovering over me as though he has something to prove, it gives me all the ammunition in the world to shoot him back down.
Slade finally dips in low enough to get the show on the road. His breath tickles my skin and I ignore how goosebumps begin to raise all over my skin. That’s something I’ll have to think about later, as for now, I have round three to win.
His voice is low and domineering, intimidating enough to have grown men wetting their pants. “Move,” he orders. “You’re in my seat.”
A soft smile spreads over my lips and I run my tongue over them, enjoying how his eyes drop and track the movement. My eyes squish up and beam as my cheeks lift with my smile and as much as I enjoy watching the hunger grow in his eyes, the confusion is what gets me hot.
He’s not ready for me. As much as he thinks he can order me around and get what he wants, it’s never going to happen. He’s not used to girls fighting back and I fucking love it.
He’s just like all the other monsters I’ve ever encountered, only this one is fun, sexy, and predictable. He expects me to get up and start scrambling for my things. He wants me running scared, he wants me to scurry away with my tail pathetically between my legs. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought I’d start spit shining the desk so it was perfect for him to throw his feet on. Well, it ain’t going to happen. Not today, not ever.
Only a second has passed and I sense the class go still. Soft gasps are heard from all around the room while an amused chuckle from Damian behind me bounces off every wall. I lower my voice to a soft, seductive whisper and get ready to enjoy myself.
“I know you haven’t been able to tear your eyes off me since you stepped inside this room, so your oblivious dumbassery will be excused, but there’s a seat right over there, front and center.”
He can’t help but flick his eyes toward the front of the room to where the spare seat in question waits for his scrumptious ass to drop down into it, but this game is nowhere near over.
As his eyes return to mine, they come with anger that sends a thrill right through me. “Move.”
I shake my head. “Not today, sweet cheeks.”
Mr. Carver groans from the front of the room and something tells me that he’s had enough of dealing with Slade Cruz’s bullshit over the years. “Slade. What do you think you’re doing? Stop trying to intimidate Skylah and find your seat. Clearly, that one is taken and it’s damn
obvious to you and the rest of the class that she’s not about to move.”
Slade glares back at the teacher and I almost feel sorry for the guy as he appears crippled with fear. Shit, is that the reaction Slade was hoping to get out of me? Because damn, he’s got to improve his game if he hopes to have me begging for mercy.
Ignoring Mr. Carver, his glare comes back to me. “You’re going to regret that.”
“Really?” I say, letting the innocence pour out of me. “Because that’s three for three and so far, I’ve never enjoyed myself more.”
His gaze narrows and I see the resignation begin to overtake. He sees this is the end. He can’t possibly push this any further without appearing like an absolute dick to the rest of the class.
Slade goes to pushup from my desk when his eyes drop down. I’m instantly reminded of the sketch I’ve been working on and I go to scramble for it, but he’s too quick. His hand slams down on the paper and dread fills me. I hate sharing my work with the world before it’s ready to be seen, but what’s worse is that as I look over the sketch, it’s clear as day that the sharp lines and delicate softness come together to make none other than Slade’s handsomely, rugged face.
Well, shit.
Why’d I have to go and draw that? I don’t think I was even aware of it.
I go to take the notepad out from under his hand but he grips the page and with a sickening grin, he tears it free from the notepad.
Fuck, I feel sick and suddenly, I have absolutely no idea if I won this round or not.
Slade scoffs as though I’m the most pathetic creature he’s ever laid eyes on and takes a step to the row of desks directly behind me. His glare shoots down at the kid and as he was expecting of me, the kid grabs his shit and scrams.
With the softest chuckle, he drops down behind the desk and not a second later, his legs are stretched out under my chair, kicking my bag out of his way.
Ugly Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 1) Page 5