“Don’t worry. I already posted it. You’ve already got over a thousand comments,” she said, smirking like a little shithead.
My blood boiled and a good dose of shame was mixed in, but before I could decide if I wanted to kick her in the cunt, I heard a masculine voice behind me.
“Stephanie.”
She looked over my shoulder, and her eyes lit up. “Bonham!” She pushed past me to walk over to him, but when she tried to touch his arm, he shrugged her off.
“Your phone,” he said, holding his hand out.
With a frown, she handed it over.
Bonham started tapping on the screen in silence, and Stephanie watched, more and more anxiety bleeding into her. When he finally passed it back to her, she frowned. “What did you just do?”
“That photo was taken at an Heir party. You know I control the rumors in this school,” he said, making her cheeks go pink. “This shit could look bad on us. We don’t want people knowing trash came to our party.”
She deflated. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh,” he said. “You know the rules. No one posts something from one of our parties without getting the okay from me first.”
Looking thoroughly chastised, she started twisting her hair nervously. “I just thought, since you guys hated her so much, that—”
“That the rules didn’t apply to you?” Bonham interrupted. “You thought wrong.”
He turned around and walked away without another word, nodding and talking to people like he was King Shit as he passed. All of Stephanie’s friends started whispering behind her back, while the blush spread all the way down from her cheeks to her chest. I felt my new phone vibrate in my back pocket.
When I pulled it out, I saw a new text from Bonham:
Rogue said get ur shit after school & go 2 dance class on Travis St. @4. Don’t be late.
“What the hell?”
I looked back up and saw Stephanie scrolling through her phone in frenzied movement. “That asshole didn’t just delete my post and the photo. He deleted everything and locked me out of all my social media accounts!”
I blinked in surprise. Was that Bonham just being a controlling socialite, making sure he kept his rule over the rumor mill, or was it their covert way of helping me out?
Either way, I’d take it.
At lunch, I sat in the library. Maybe I was that cliche reject you’d read about in all the pathetic books, but it was easier to eat alone than it was to test the boundaries of the Heir’s patience. Just because they were willing to stand up for me to Stephanie didn’t mean they were going to start being kind to me all of a sudden. That just wasn’t their style.
I was in the back of the library when my phone rang. No one really paid me any mind back here, so I answered the FaceTime call with a smile. “Scarlett Livingston, you never called,” Clayton said with a scowl. I could see in the background that he was at another art gallery, probably pissing off someone by talking loudly on the phone.
“Sorry, I got busy,” I replied absentmindedly. He was wearing a leather jacket and white shirt, looking like he just got off the set of Grease.
“Busy fucking that guy that broke my door down?” he asked with a sly grin.
“A girl doesn’t kiss and tell,” I replied, feeling like it was easier to tease him than it was to explain that Rogue showed up to my house and broke my heart. Again.
“Yeah, whatever. You’ve still got that virgin look about you. You know I could help you with that.”
“I bet you could. What are you doing tonight? I’ve got dance class near your apartment. Maybe I could stop by afterwards? I can watch you play video games while we pretend to spend quality time together.”
Clay had his attention on something outside the frame of the video feed. I watched him lick his lips in appreciation, and I said a prayer for whatever girl he had his sights on. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Switzerland?” he asked distractedly. “Wait. Dance classes? You don’t dance.”
“No shit, Sherlock. Mama decided she wanted me to stay home after I got an invite to join the Junior Debutante League,” I replied with a cringe. The shudder traveled through me, and I couldn’t hold it back.
“Speaking of which, I’m gonna need you to be my date for one of the events,” I added. I had decided last night that there was no way in hell I was going with Rogue Motherfucking Kelly.
“Lots of girls in pretty dresses looking to fuck a rich boy? I’m in,” Clay joked, just as I saw a shadow move from behind one of the library shelves.
“Hey, I’ll see you later okay?” I replied distractedly, trying to see who was spying on me.
“Yeah, okay. Get all sweaty at your dance class tonight. You know it gets me all hot and bothered,” he said with a grin.
I rolled my eyes before hanging up, not bothering to say goodbye.
I stood and adjusted my uniform skirt, which barely hit mid thigh, thanks to my mama’s oversexualized design, then headed towards where I knew a tall figure was watching me. When I turned the corner, my mouth gaped open when I saw it was Luis.
“Can I help you?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“Just checking to see where you were. You didn’t show up to the cafeteria today.”
I blinked. This felt oddly like caring, and the guys didn’t do that anymore. “Nope. Just prefer the library. You can run back to Rogue like a little bitch and tell him that I’m not airing out all the Heir secrets for the world to know,” I said with a smirk before checking my watch. Luis and I had English in seven minutes. “Actually, I’ll let you walk me to class since you’re already here.”
With Luis watching me, I unscrewed the cap of the juice blend that my mama’s nutritionist made for me and downed it whole, wincing past the nasty vegetable taste.
“That’s your lunch?”
“Yep. Thanks to your dumbass Junior Debutante scheme, Mama wants me to lose six pounds by December.”
Luis didn’t respond, but I saw a flash of guilt in his eyes. But instead of being the compassionate boy I once knew, he ignored my words. He bent over and grabbed my messenger bag on the floor and began leading me out of the library.
“So are you guys claiming me now?” I asked, noticing how the other Smith Academy students blatantly stared at us.
“Nope.”
I huffed out a breath. “Then why are you carrying my bag? Y’all are a bunch of confusing motherfuckers, you know that?”
At that, Luis smiled before pushing me against the lockers with his hands on my shoulders. He blocked me from view of the rest of the school with his body, caging me in with his arms. “You’re getting pretty cocky, Scar. I’d hate to have to remind you what happens when you go against the Heirs. You’re just going to get hurt.”
I saw the challenge in his stare, then let my gaze fall to his lips. Lips that I knew had been the talk of the school ever since he kissed Allison Newport at the playground in fifth grade. “Maybe I like going against you all, Luis. Maybe I like a little pain.”
His eyes darkened, and I leaned up to close the distance. Time seemed to slow. My heart was as destructive as the tornado that touched down outside of town last summer.
“I’m not afraid anymore,” I whispered, before leaning in and trailing my tongue along his bottom lip. Luis shuddered at the contact, and when I knew I had him where I wanted him, I shoved at his chest, just as the bell rang for class.
I smirked up at him. “Come on, Salvador. Don’t want to be late.”
Chapter Seventeen
I don’t know how he’d done it, but Rogue Kelly got me a private class with the best dance teacher in Savannah, right at the peak of debutante season. The junior cotillion ball was a big deal, and finding a dance instructor this late in the game was near impossible. Most had a waiting list a mile long, but I guess an Heir’s influence had no boundaries.
The only problem? The instructor was a total dick.
All I’d heard for an hour was barked orders and putdowns like: “Again!” and, “Keep tha
t neck straight!” and my personal favorite, “Be a swan, not a shit-faced sloth!” He danced circles around me, and even though I had the muscle control of a well-trained gymnast, with dance experience of my own, it made no difference. According to him, nothing I did was right for the ballroom.
When my hour was up, the dance master sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “Sorry?” I said with a cringe. I hadn’t thought I was that bad. I’d taken ballroom dancing before, but apparently, he thought differently. With my apology, he just straightened his pink leotard and flounced away with a, “I can’t even look at you anymore. You’ll be the talk of the cotillion with those moves. And not in a good way, sugar.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered as I wiped the sweat off my forehead.
I sat against the wall of mirrors and yanked off my heeled dancing shoes before stuffing them into my bag. My feet were killing me, all of my blisters had split open, and I had to come back in two days. Apparently, I needed all the help I could get before the cotillion. I didn’t like that he’d made it his personal mission to torture—I mean teach—me.
Savannah’s debutantes were renowned. It was a huge thing, talked about all over the state. There were lesser known cotillions, but they weren’t worth noting. A personal invitation from Bonham Brodie’s mama was unheard of. I never thought I’d be allowed to come out as a debutante, but what the Heirs wanted, they got.
Personally, I didn’t even want to be a debutante. It was a lot of pressure for perfection. One mishap, and you could be socially ruined, and not just for high school, but for all of Savannah. The only thing worse than not being a debutante, was being a failed one. Or at least, that was the general mentality of every damn person in this town.
When I pulled on my tennis shoes and an off-the-shoulder shirt over my sports bra, I stood up and made my way out of the dance studio and onto the street. I guzzled my bottle of water on my way outside to where my driver was waiting for me.
I slipped into the backseat while looking distractedly at my phone. I was mumbling Clay’s address to my driver when a low timber of a voice cut me off. “Actually, we’re going to the Kelly Estate.”
Startled, I looked up to find Rogue sitting in my car, wearing a smirk. I gasped and clutched my chest at the shock of seeing another person in my car.
“Shit, Rogue. You can’t just sneak up on a girl like that. What are you doing here?” I asked, noticing that my driver was putting up the tinted partition between us. I wondered how much Rogue paid him for this impromptu ride.
“Wanted to make sure you actually attended your appointment. The boys and I got drinks at the sports bar two doors down.” Of course they were. Luis's Mama owned that property, so it was a favorite hangout of theirs since they could be served alcohol without issue.
“I figured you could give me a ride home,” Rogue said, leaning forward. I smelled spicy cognac on his breath. He’d always had expensive tastes. He wasn’t flashy, but he was particular. Rogue Kelly only had the best. Clothes. Cars. Women. Alcohol.
“Fine. But I’m gonna have my driver drop me off at Clay’s first. He can take you home afterwards, and I’ll just spend the night.”
Rogue scowled and rested his forearms against his knees. “No.”
I cocked a brow. “No?”
“That’s right. No. You’re not gonna go see Clay. I can’t trust that you won’t tell him anything. Who is that guy to you, anyway?”
I rolled my eyes before reaching for the control to the partition. “A friend,” I replied, as Rogue swatted my hand away.
“How’d you two meet?”
The truth was at the tip of my tongue. I could have told him that Clay and I met at an art show. I could have told him about our strictly platonic friendship that revolved around our mutual love of food, binge-worthy television, and mindless conversation. But I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Maybe a part of me wanted to be cruel, too. Maybe I liked seeing Rogue pissed off.
So instead, I heard myself saying, “He was a one-night stand a few months ago that turned into a friend with benefits. He’s adventurous. Makes me feel good. And he’s in college. I like that he’s older and more...experienced,” I said with a self-satisfied smirk.
I got the reaction I wanted. Rogue’s lips thinned and his fists clenched. I wasn’t sure why, but every time he unleashed a bit of that pent-up anger, I became electrified from the thrill from it. Feeling cocky, I opened my mouth to lie some more, but before I could say anything, Rogue slid across the seat, invading my space and clouding my judgement with that ritzy brandy on his breath. “You’re lying,” he said. I could see that familiar fury blooming on his face. It made my breath hitch with excitement. “I’ll bet you haven’t fucked anyone. You’ve always wanted me, Scar.”
At my frown, Rogue smirked meanly. “You think I didn’t know? I knew you wanted me. Sometimes, I’d think about your lips while I let someone else suck my cock.”
My own anger simmered to life, and he knew it. “I don’t want you,” I lied. “And Clay is an excellent fuck.”
His eyes darkened. “Liar.”
I tilted my head, letting my eyes kiss over his face. “Am I? How would you even know, Rogue? You’re not my friend anymore. I don’t tell you everything the way I used to. You tossed me out, remember?” I said, my voice low and husky from his nearness and his intensity.
Rogue stalled for a moment, considering my attempt at winding him up. Then his handsome face twisted into a sneer, and he placed his hand on my upper thigh. The connection instantly burned my leg, like flames licked from his palm to my skin. My heart pounded as I watched his hand slowly move up, his fingers hooking over the waistband of my pants. I held my breath as he leaned into me, making his scruffy jaw scratch against my ear. “I guess there’s one way to find out.”
I was so clouded with lust that I didn’t comprehend his words until Rogue suddenly started to jerk my yoga pants down, taking my thong with them. I reached out and grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop, before yanking my clothes back up. “Fuck off, Rogue. I’m not in the mood for your games.”
He tried pulling again, gripping the material of my pants, but still I tugged back, stopping only when I heard the slow sound of my pants ripping. When the fabric tore, he yanked them to my knees. “Oh, Scar,” he chuckled darkly, moving his palm up my thigh. “This isn’t a game, this is war.” He slid his middle finger along my bare heat to test how wet I was, and I moaned at his touch.
But because I wasn’t about to give in, I shoved at his shoulders, and the moment he was off of me, I slid across the seat to put some distance between me and the feral look in his eyes. I dug my fingers into the seats, panting. This was so fucked up, but every cell in my body was lit with desire. Godfrey’s push and pull was always mental, but Rogue? The fight between us was physical, and I craved it. And based on the sinister smile that crept over his lips as his eyes flicked from my bare pussy to my flushed face, he knew it.
He leaned in, and my head hit the window as his arms boxed me in on either side. “Back off,” I growled once more, before placing a foot at his chest to kick him away.
His brown eyes lit up, and he leaned in even closer, until I could feel his breath against my cheeks. “Make me.”
Challenge accepted, motherfucker.
I felt his eyes heavy on my body. Keeping my foot on his chest, I slowly inched the ripped fabric from my legs, easing it off my silky skin as his eyes licked over every exposed inch of me. Once the material was at my ankles, he slowly reached up to pull the rest of it off before tossing it to the side. “There’s no use fighting me,” he said with a cocky grin that made my plans for him feel so much more rewarding.
“Don’t you know, Rogue?” I asked while lifting my finger up and placing it against my mouth. His eyes grew hooded as my lips parted, and after letting out a moan, I began sucking on it. I swirled my tongue in a sensual move, then removed my finger with a pop before trailing it down between my breasts. I felt sexy with
his eyes on my body. After parting my legs even more, I slipped my wet finger along my cunt, teasing him with a front row ticket to something I wasn’t going to let him have. “The best things in life are worth fighting for,” I finished in a husky voice before yanking my hand back, catching him off guard when I cut the show short.
Then I lunged for him. Shoving him back with the force of my entire body, I settled on his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. The back of his head collided with the window, and I yanked on his brown locks, exposing his neck before biting down. Hard.
I sucked at his skin as he jerked his hips up with a groan, his hard erection digging into me, and I laughed huskily. Pulling his hair harder, I peppered kisses along his jaw before sinking my teeth into him again, this time into his bottom lip. Our kiss felt more like a fist fight, with punishing hits, colliding teeth and tongues, and both of us looking for the upper hand. He broke away first, and I hated how much I wanted the kiss to continue.
“Show me what you do with your little college boy, Scar,” Rogue challenged as he thrust up. My head nearly collided with the ceiling of the car, but he bumped that perfect spot, teasing my clit with tension, and I bit my lip to hold in a moan.
There was fire in his eyes, an unspoken dare to see how far we could take this. I trailed my fingers down his chest until they landed at the button of his jeans. Unclasping it, I slid down the zipper, making sure to brush my knuckles along his erection.
Rogue Kelly moaned. The sounds coming from his chest turned primal as I dipped behind the waistband of his jeans and boxers to pull out his dick, already slick with precum. It was thick. Good god, he was huge. I trailed the protruding veins with the tip of my finger, lightly scraping a path with my nail.
“You gonna stare, or are you gonna do something?” Rogue asked, though his voice was laced with that smokey tone that he’d used in his backyard when he’d kissed me.
My eyes flashed to his once more. “Why do I have to do all the work?”
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