An animal in the cage, a viper in the court room.
A law student by day, wearing smart, crisp suits without a slither of metal on his body. A cage fighter by night, wearing semi-tight board shorts and showing off every single inch of inked and pierced skin. He was a certified bad boy with the grades of a first class nerd – he was a walking contradiction.
“Shut up, douche bag,” I said, slapping him upside the head. “Anyway, Bones. Or have you still got some poor girl tied to that bed of yours?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“No, no, actually, I really wouldn’t.” I cringed, wrinkling my nose and shaking my head. “Seriously, are you coming or are you just going to avoid my question?”
“Oh, I’ll definitely be coming.”
“Do you have just the smallest hint of a filter? You know, that thing in your brain that tells you to shut the fuck up?”
“No, he doesn’t and I wonder where yours goes too.” Tate chuckled as he walked over to our table. “You ready? We have a couple of hours before we need to meet Neva.”
Flickering my gaze to my watch, I noticed the time. Shit, I’m going to be late. Tonight Neva was singing at the bar just outside of Spring Water called Bones. It was a rock bar where she sang and also worked part-time behind the bar.
“You going to need my notes for the essay, dude?” I asked as I started packing the books into my overly large purse.
“No, I’m good,” Ace said, rubbing the muscles on the back of his neck. “I have some shit to do. I’ll text you if I can make it over to the bar.”
With that, he gave Tate a slap on the shoulder and made his way out of the library. Smiling at Tate, I packed away the last of my things before placing a small kiss on his lips.
“What was that for?” he asked, grabbing at my hips and pulling me closer.
“No reason.” I chuckled, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him flush to my body.
The laughter soon died on my lips as he swept in and crashed his lips to mine, sending spine-numbing tingles throughout my entire body. The hot, wet heat from his mouth captivated me, keeping me frozen to the spot. His tongue expertly slid along my bottom lip, seeking the entry he desperately craved. I shouldn’t cave into his domineering mouth, but my body betrayed me; it betrayed me at every turn when it came to him. I opened for him, allowing him to slip his tongue inside my mouth. His tongue slid against mine like he was hungry, like a man starved of oxygen and I was the only source for miles.
A low groan escaped him as his sucked on my bottom lip. Fire ignited everywhere, sending my head into a tailspin and causing my panties to instantly combust. His hands moved to my face, cupping me gently, but felt as though he was leaving his mark. A mark only I knew was there. I moaned deep into his mouth as he slid his tongue back against mine, fighting for domination of my mouth. My hands tangled in his hair, my nails scraping along his scalp as I held on for dear life. When he kissed me like this, I was a goner. No one else mattered; the world would fall away at my feet while he held me up, floating into nothingness and taking my breath away with every stroke of his tongue.
“You drive me crazy,” he whispered as he pulled back from the kiss, resting his forehead against mine.
I was speechless, completely speechless. Tate undoubtedly takes my breath away, stealing it like a thief, keeping it until I begged for it back.
“I can’t think straight when you do that,” I said breathlessly.
“Good,” he growled. “Ready to go?”
“Uh, yeah.” I smiled, trying my hardest to hide how much of an effect Tate really had on me.
“Did I make you all weak at the knees, baby?” He chuckled, taking my hand in his as we made our way out from the library.
“I’m pleading the fifth,” I joked.
It was anything but a joke, but I couldn’t even admit that to myself, never mind Tate.
The warmth of the June air heated my cheeks as we stepped out onto campus grounds, making our way back to our dorm building. The temperature had picked up several degrees since being inside, and I couldn’t help but inhale the sweet, crisp air. The morning mishaps had quickly been forgotten as we rolled into the early afternoon, although the imprint of Logan and Neva would be something I wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Ugh.
Our little group had been together for six years, ever since I stepped foot in Spring Water with my mom. Neva James was the first person who spoke to me; she was the only one with the balls to back then. I hadn’t been the most gracious teenager when I had gotten here, rebelling was my thing, flipping the bird at as many adults as I possibly could, pissing off every available weak girl in high school. I was young, dumb, and unforgiving, but Neva was the one person who could see past my shit and call me out on my defense tactics.
When you grow up in the deep, dark depths of social deprivation, making friends isn’t at the top of the list when you move to a new town. But friends were exactly what I made; it wasn’t at all easy, but I got there in the end. Once I had become friends with Neva, the friends kept on coming. Neva introduced me to her brother, Tate, and once we were friends, I soon met the rest of the group. Next came Logan White, the self-confessed man whore who would screw anything with a vagina and a great pair of legs: his words, not mine. Then there were the twins, the gruesome twosome – Zane and Colt. They fought over everything: who was the best looking, who picked up the hottest girls, who had the better arm. But most of the time we referred to them as Asshat One and Asshat Two. Last but not least was Ace, the one who scared the ever loving shit out of students and most teachers: top law student by day, and prized underground cage fighter by night.
The overpowering scent of far too much cologne pulled me out of my thoughts, as I noticed we had made it to the dorm. The smell of Old Spice mixed with sweat burned at my nostrils as Tate and I made our way up the staircase.
“I’m going to get ready in my room,” I said as we made it to the second floor.
“Okay, I’ll get ready and meet you at Logan’s. You take forever in the damn shower,” he said, rolling his eyes before placing a lingering kiss on my lips.
“Don’t take long. You’re staying with me tonight,” he whispered against my lips.
It wasn’t a threat but a sweet, delicious promise of what was yet to come. My knees knocked for the second time that day, all fueled by the one man who could instantly bring me to my knees with just a single sentence.
“Tate,” I moaned, the sudden inability to sound like anything but a quivering mess of hormones struck me like a baseball bat to the head.
“Tonight, Low. I want you in my bed.”
I gasped as I felt Tate’s thumb graze the apex of my right thigh, his hand shielded from the rest of the students by his muscular frame. I couldn’t form a single word, or produce a comeback that would pull us out of the lust filled moment. I was a prisoner, and he was my captor, keeping me silent and still with the smallest of touch from just the pad of his thumb.
“Wear something that’s easily removable.” He groaned, moving his thumb an inch higher. “Or I’ll rip apart anything that gets in my way.”
“Okay,” I whispered, the husk of my voice surprising even myself.
“Be quick,” he said before quickly crashing his lips to mine, only to pull away the second a low moan escaped my mouth.
With a quick wink over his shoulder, Tate made his way up to the third floor. I couldn’t help but stare at his ass as it moved deliciously with every step he took. Dammit.
It took me a couple of minutes to finally get my bearings and stop the gush of hormones that had pooled in my panties. Once I could finally think without Tate’s ass imprinted at the forefront of my mind, I made my way down the second floor corridor to my dorm room that I shared with Neva. She hadn’t stayed with me in over three weeks now; most of her time was spent at Logan’s place. Even though she outright refused to move in with Logan, it was only going to be a matter of time before the rest of her stuff moved in with h
im.
Stepping into the room, I scanned my surroundings. Not a single thing out of place. Everything was where I left it: the six pairs of jeans on Neva’s bed, the pairs of shoes scattered across the room, and the books I had knocked off the desk on my hasty dash to the toilet. What can I say? I’m a slob. Sighing, I shut the door and slung my purse onto my desk, pulling out the notes I needed to write my essay tomorrow. Tonight the group’s going to Bones, since Neva was singing in between working her shift. Every Friday night we would all meet up at the bar. It’d become some sort of ritual within the group, and we were all there to support Neva.
Once I had sorted through my purse and cleared up my desk, I went to work on cleaning the room. The six pairs of jeans went back into the closet, along with the shoes that I had unceremoniously tripped over in my hangover coma that morning. Soon after, I finally stripped bare and stepped into the shower, washing away the muggy warmth that had attached to my skin from the spring weather. Lathering up my hair with usual shampoo, I washed my blonde locks before quickly shaving and pampering my body with coconut milk.
Ten minutes later, I was stepping out from the shower feeling re-refreshed and smelling rather delicious. Wrapping a towel around my body and my hair, I quickly brushed my teeth and pulled out my makeup bag for the second time today. Padding back into the room, I dumped the bag on my bed, and sat down in the middle of my comforter.
Tonight, I was Low Parker: blonde locks, blue eyes, and no visible scars.
After thirty minutes, my makeup was in place, masking the scars that haunted me daily. Dark coal lined my eyes, enhancing the icy blue tones of my irises. A small amount of blush coated my cheeks, and grape flavored gloss shined against my full lips.
Unraveling my hair from the confines of its toweling prison, I soon went to work, turning my hair from a wet and limp texture to a soft and full bodied look. I quickly curled the ends with my hot iron before throwing on a dress that I had kept away for a special occasion.
The dress was a pastel pink, tight and sleek from the shoulders straight down to the very top of my calves. It was fitted against every inch of flesh it covered, the deep set v-neck enhancing my ample sized chest. Matching the dress with my nude heels, I was ready. It was simple, yet pretty.
It was Low.
I grabbed a cab to Logan’s, the air still crisp and warm as I made my way up to his apartment. Ensuring I didn’t walk in on anymore sexcapades, I knocked loudly on the door. Seconds later, a very wide eyed Tate greeted me.
“Christ.” He groaned, raking his eyes down the length of my body.
I could feel his gaze everywhere: my eyes, my chest, my legs. Heat pooled between my thighs as his gaze lingered on my nude heels. When I was around Tate, I was vulnerable, exposed, and completely under his control. He hadn’t even touched me and I was an internal mess.
“Tate, we need to go man!” Logan hollered from inside the apartment. “Is that Low?”
“Yeah!” Tate yelled, his gaze never leaving mine.
Slowly, Tate’s arms crossed at his chest, his right shoulder resting against the door frame. He was just… watching me. His gaze was like tiny little pin pricks against my exposed flesh, bringing goosebumps to rise to the surface.
“Is everyone ready?” I asked, fumbling with my purse in my right hand, trying to focus on something other than the man who turned me into a puddle of mush.
“Yes,” he paused, standing at full height before pulling the door closed behind him as he stepped forward. “But we can’t go yet.”
“What?” I asked, snapping my gaze to his.
His deep green eyes were filled with hunger, smoldering under my gaze as he took another step towards me. It was only when he stepped further into the light that I could really take in his appearance. My god. He was six feet three of purebred male. His legs—my god, his legs—thick and strong at the thigh, as his tight black jeans hugged them as if desperately clinging on. His abdomen, shielded by the white button-down shirt, was solid muscle, each individual abdominal muscle a treasure trove to explore. His shoulders, thick and full, caused the fabric of his shirt to stretch to full capacity. His forearms, masculine and bare, were exposed by his shirt rolled up to his elbows.
He was walking criminal sex, and I was his willing victim.
But what I couldn’t take my eyes off were his lips. Pink. Full. Sexy. His strong jaw line only accentuating them more. Then there was his nose, a small scar glinting against the harsh light of the apartment building corridor; it had been broken a few times over the years. Then there was the five o’clock shadow that lined his jaw. Jesus.
“Baby, are you with me?” he whispered, taking the last step between us, cupping my face with his strong hands.
“Y … yes,” I stuttered, trying hard to stop the stupid flutter that had taken over my stomach.
“You look beautiful,” he said before slowly dipping his head, pressing his lips against mine.
He lingered, pressing just a little bit harder, enough for me to want to push back against him. But, the moment I did, he quickly broke away, sucking on the corner of his bottom lip.
“Grape.” He smiled as he sucked away the gloss that had transferred from my lips to his.
“Step away from the goods, dude, we need to go!”
Chuckling, I peered my head around Tate’s large frame, spotting the twins, Zane and Colt, behind him. I couldn’t tell who had made the comment, but judging by Colt’s sneaky wink, it must have been him.
“Did you really just refer to her as ‘the goods’?” Zane laughed, shaking his head at his twin.
“What? She has goods, lots of goods in that damn dress too!” Colt said, flashing me a cocky grin. Asshat.
Before I knew what had happened, Tate’s hand suddenly came out, landing with a loud smack against the back of Colt’s head.
“Oooof! What the hell, man? It was a joke, a joke, I swear!” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he shook his head from side to side.
“You,” Zane said, pushing his index finger into his twin’s chest, “are a first class idiot.”
“Me?” Colt scoffed, swatting Zane’s finger away. “It was a joke. Fuck, are you all on the rag or some shit? I’m sure there’s some Midol in the apartment, maybe some damn chocolate too.”
“You’re a douche,” Zane muttered, throwing on his jacket as he quickly made his way down the staircase.
“Fucking PMS-ing and shit…” Colt muttered as he followed closely behind his brother.
Moments later, out walked a clearly stressed Logan.
“Having those two here is like having fucking kids! They should be on an ad for the next condom commercial. What happens if you don’t wrap that shit up,” he said, shaking his head before descending the stairs, joining the rest of the group.
Looking back at Tate I couldn’t help but let out a full belly laugh; the instant the sound broke through my lips, Tate joined me. He threw back his head and let out the sexiest noise I’d ever heard. His laugh was deep and husky, the sound instantly heating my cheeks… and my panties.
Tonight, Tate was going to take me: he was going to stake his claim on me. He was going to make me his without fear or thought. He was going to ruin me, and what scared me the most was… I wanted him to.
Chapter Three
Bones was filled with a sea of people from wall to wall, all fighting for a spot at the bar to order their drinks. We had been lucky, our table was clear and ready for us when we walked in only fifteen minutes ago, thanks to the awesome Dex and Trix that worked behind the bar with Neva.
“I’ll have Cowgirl bring over your drink order, it’s fucking suffocating in here tonight!” Dex hollered into my ear.
I couldn’t help but laugh at Dex’s nickname for Neva; he had dubbed her Cowgirl the day she dropped by the bar and subsequently got a job. He said it’s because she would look hot in a checkered shirt and cowboy boots. I rolled my eyes.
“Okay. How is she?” I asked, my voice louder to
compensate for the harsh bass of the speakers pouring out some rock music I had never heard before.
“She’s good, but I might need to call in some more staff, damn rednecks are crazy tonight!” Dex said, pointing to the never ending sea of people shouting their drink orders at the bar.
Bones was a large bar on the outskirts of Spring Water. It was seen as a biker bar due to all the bikers that stopped by Saturday night for their drinks, but for the rest of the week, it was a chance for students in the area to hang out.
The bar was pretty large, the deep mahogany wood spanning the back wall, opposite of the heavy double doors that you walked in through. The floors were lined with vintage style black and white tiles, while the walls were a deep crimson, holding vintage rock artwork. To the left of the doors stood a small stage, the large speakers covering most of its floor room, and a microphone stand up front. Tonight was open mic night, and Neva was the regular singer with her guitar.
“I’ll lend a hand if you need it,” I said to Dex. My voice strained as I tried to project it over the loud bass.
“You will?” he asked, clearly shocked at my statement.
“Yeah, of course.” I smiled, scanning the excitable crowd.
“I knew there was a reason why I loved Cowgirl.” He chuckled, flicking his head in Neva’s direction behind the bar. “Have a drink first, and if we’re still at capacity, I’ll holler. Cowgirl’s on in an hour.”
With that, Dex started making his way through the crowd, leaping over the bar before he got mobbed for some alcohol.
“Calm the fuck down or no one is getting served!” he shouted, quickly taking orders and sliding them down the bar to the greedy hands of his customers.
Turning back to our group I couldn’t help but chuckle as Zane punched Colt in the shoulder. Colt was clearly in the mood to drive everyone nuts tonight, and it seemed as though he was getting on his twin’s last nerve.
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