She’s Too Young (She’s Too Young #1)

by Jessa Kane

  “I don’t want to go back to class afterward,” she says, tightening the knot around my throat. “If you take me to the office with you, I promise not to be distracting.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t possibly keep,” I rasp, ready to call the whole damn thing off and take her home. Maybe that’s exactly what she wants. To drive me so out of my mind, I lose all sense of responsibility. Or hell, my sanity. Standing in the hallway of a high school, I’m halfway to losing it already. “I think you’re enjoying leading me around by the dick, Veda, but you need to know one thing.” I take hold of her wrist and apply the barest amount of pressure. “I’m letting you.”

  The answering flash of defiance in her eyes stiffens my cock, makes my palm itch to connect with her sweet bottom. “Shall we go in?” She says, sweetly.

  Without looking, I reach out and push open the door, inclining my head so she’ll precede me. I follow behind her into the spacious classroom and it takes me exactly three seconds to ascertain why Veda wanted me at this meeting. Oh yes. I might have won the battle out in the hallway, but she just took a huge step toward winning the war.

  Sitting at the head of the class is Veda’s professor—Talvert, if I recall—a man in his early-forties, wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a beard. He’s watching her approach the way a lion greets a gazelle. If he dropped to all fours and started salivating down his chin, it couldn’t be more obvious he’s developed an interest in Veda that goes far beyond the teacher-student relationship. And the whimsical look she throws over her shoulder tells me she’s aware of that fact—probably even delighted with it—if only because she knows I’m halfway to crazy just knowing she’s been in this man’s presence day in and day out. I’d like to murder him with my bare hands and we haven’t even exchanged a single word. Yet.

  My saving grace here is I have the ability to keep an impassive expression, no matter the circumstances, so Talvert has no idea he’s just lost his job. Neither does Veda, however, and the scales are already too imbalanced between her and me, so this meeting must go on, whether I like it or not.

  Keeping my features schooled, I extend a hand to Talvert and wait for his feeble mind to catch up. Yes, you weren’t expecting me, were you, fucker? But I’m here now and your fun is over. “Sorry,” he says, “I was expecting Mr. Rose. Veda’s father.”

  “Mr. Rose has been taken abroad indefinitely for his job.” I release his hand and step back, unbuttoning my suit jacket to sit down. “My name is Ramsey Beckett and I’m here in his place. Begin whenever you’re ready.”

  While the man begins his inevitable sputtering over my recognizable name, I watch Veda as she flits around the room, spinning around in the sunlight streaming in through the classroom windows. How can I be angry at someone who looks like a fragile fairy? I am, though. Or maybe angry isn’t the right word. Helpless. Anxious. An unacceptable state. I’ve been gripped by this possessiveness since she approached me on the ledge and it won’t let me go. I don’t want to be free, anyway. I just want to lose myself in it. In her. Every time she exploits my weakness—her—the impulse only glows hotter, like coals on a fire.

  Veda…she fascinates people. Men. Always has.

  The memory of Jack’s words isn’t welcome. My inner coals are already bright red with jealousy. Now I’m growing impatient with the imbecile professor as he roots through paperwork looking for something that gives me permission to take Mr. Rose’s place at the meeting. We both know it’s not there and I resent valuable minutes being wasted. “Please begin, Mr. Talvert. I only have a small window of time.”

  Red splotches appear on his cheeks, but he sits across from me at his desk, casting a look rife with longing at a dancing Veda. “It’s not usual for the student to be present…a-and you’re not even her parent—”

  “Veda is living with me in Mr. Rose’s absence.” Satisfaction snakes into my middle when his fidgeting movements still, his lips parting on a winded exhale. “And she stays. Begin,” I say, more firmly. “I’d hate to be denied the chance to further a student’s academic mind, especially after making such a sizable donation this morning to the school, in an effort to do just that for thousands of them.”

  A cloud passes over the sun outside as tension infiltrates the classroom. In my periphery, I watch Veda cease her spinning, her blonde halo of hair floating down from above. Her scrutiny glides over my skin like a gloved hand, but I don’t break Talvert’s stare to look back, though I ache to get an eyeful. When she takes a seat to my right seconds later, it takes an effort to hide my shock.

  “Very well,” Talvert croaks, splitting a harried glance between Veda and me. “Veda is…excelling in all areas of study. Apart from requiring some extra help in Advanced Calculus, she’s done incredibly well. Her SAT score has courted the interest of several universities, to whom I’ve written detailed recommendation letters.”

  His smile is that of a lovesick puppy and my hands fist when Veda returns it in that dreamy, indulgent way, blue eyes sparkling. Sickening jealousy and the undeniable desire to put a claim on her has me reaching over to settle a hand on her knee. “I’m not surprised to hear she’s doing so well.” I let my touch slide higher, just an inch. Two inches. “She gets a lot of…extra attention at home.”

  Veda’s head whips around and the flash of excitement I catch in her expression isn’t lost on me. If possible, it only stokes my anger, because this loss of composure from me is what she wanted. A worthy adversary, is she? We’ll find out exactly how far she’s willing to tangle with me as soon as this damnable meeting ends.

  “Is there anything else, Mr. Talvert?” I ask, my lips barely able to move.

  His attention is glued to my hand where it rests dangerously high on Veda’s thigh. God help me, I can’t tell if I want to clean his clock or slide my hand beneath her skirt to touch what is mine and will never be his.

  “N-no,” the professor responds, his face covered in splotches. “That will be all.”

  Without hesitation, I take Veda by the hand and propel her from the classroom, a flood of sound making me temporarily deaf.

  Chapter Six

  Veda and I are the recipients of several curious looks as we leave the school, her hand held firmly in mine. I see them wondering where I’m taking her in the middle of the school day. They’re doing the math as well, trying to figure out my age and who that number could possibly make me to Veda.

  I care about none of them. My sole focus is getting her into my waiting stretch limousine and making contact. That’s as far as I’ve gotten. I need contact. Not only with her body, but her eyes. I need to look into them and hear words from her mouth. Words I imagine will not appease my anger in any way, but I’m desperate for them nonetheless. I want to crush the strands of her hair in my fists and press her down. Somewhere. Anywhere.

  My driver opens the door for us and Veda ducks inside, throwing herself down on a seat and crossing her arms, leveling so much outrage at me, I laugh. I laugh because nothing—nothing—can dim her appeal. I want her angry, whimsical, sad, or excited. There’s nothing she can do to push me away, but she’s trying, isn’t she? Trying like a little, hissing kitten.

  As soon as the door shuts behind me, I grip her beneath the knees and yank her off the leather seat, pinning her down hard on the floor.

  “Get off me,” Veda screams. “I hate you.”

  “You must.” When she takes a swing at me, I pin both of her wrists in one hand, high above her head. “I can’t imagine another reason you would bring me down here to watch another man fawn over you.” The sound that comes from my mouth is sheer misery and it echoes deep in the pit of my stomach. “Has he touched you? Has he?”

  My vehemence has startled her a little, but she raises her chin defiantly. “Yes. He has.”

  “Explain,” I order through clenched teeth. “Now.”

  She’s fabricating a falsehood. It’s there in the feverish fluttering of her lashes, the way she looks off to the side. So I ram my hips up between her legs
, forcing her to feel my erection and she cries out, arching her back, nipples puckering beneath the material of her white blouse.

  “Don’t lie to me,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I’ll know if you do.”

  Her swallow is audible, but her clear gaze tells me she’s planning on giving the truth now. “Once, I…didn’t do well on a calculus test and he offered to tutor me.” Beneath me, her body is tense, just like mine, but I’m aroused as hell—I can’t help it when we’re pressed so tightly together—and that’s contributing, too, now. Not only our mutual ire. “When I showed up, he said we could save time and he’d give me a better grade if I just…”

  “Say it.”

  “If I just let him unbutton my shirt all the way, unhook my bra. And look.” Pink climbs up her neck and manifests in her cheeks, eyes glittering with renewed energy. “What makes you any better than him? Nothing! You’re worse. I thought when we met there was something so sweet about you, but it was a lie. You’re a lie. I needed to show you that.”

  Over the course of her speech, she has wound her legs around my hips, writhing her body enticingly beneath mine, so by the time she’s finished, I’m a devastating mixture of shame and lust and murder. Shame, because I fear she’s right and I’m a corrupt son-of-a-bitch. Lust, because I’m still aching to fuck her, my cock so hard I’m lightheaded. Murder, because I want to go back into the building and strangle that motherfucker for putting his hands and eyes on her. Mine.

  “Tell me why I’m a lie,” I command her. “Why can’t I be the man you thought was sweet? You haven’t let me try yet.”

  “Because I know you’ve done something awful,” she whispers.

  A tear rolls down her cheek and it ruins me. She’s crying because of me and I’m wrecked for life. My lungs cease their function. “I’m sorry, angel,” I manage gruffly, leaning down and dragging my lips up the trail left by her tear. “You’re right. I am a lie. Everything about me is a lie, except the way you make me feel.” I press my mouth against the corner of her mouth. “I deserve the torture, I deserve to have you hate me. I even deserve to lose you.”

  It wasn’t easy for me to say, especially the final part, and the acknowledgment of that difficulty is there in her raised eyebrows, her parted lips. “I could have left you by now,” she breathes, sliding the arches of her feet up and down the backs of my thighs. “I should have.”

  Need is twisting in my abdomen, the need to thrust, the need to hear her cry out, but I want an explanation. “Why haven’t you?”

  “You would have found me,” she whispers, letting her thighs fall wide. So wide. An open invitation to my total damnation. “But there’s more. I…you’re the first man I’ve wanted back. I might hate you, but you give me this—” She breaks off on a moan, eyelids falling to half mast. “This crazy, ticklish feeling in my stomach and every time I think of running away, I wonder if I’ll ever feel it again, anywhere else.” She tugs her hands free of my grip above her head and begins unbuttoning her shirt. “And I lied. You aren’t just like the other men. The way you were so…in charge…back there with Talvert—”

  “Never say his name again.”

  Her breath hitches and she nods, thoughts racing behind blue eyes. “You have so much…power. I hate you and want you for the same reason.” She levers up and slides her lips against mine. “You could kill him, couldn’t you?”

  “Yes.” More than that, I will, if he ever attempts contact with her again.

  When she seems to savor my answer, I see a new side to Veda. One that’s dangerous and explosive, one that kindles in response to my aggression. She might be angelic on the outside, but it would be a serious misstep to underestimate her. And I don’t. She’s a time bomb in the most appealing package ever created.

  “I want your body like hell, Veda. But I want what you’ve got on the inside, too. Want to know your thoughts; the reasons you do things. What makes you dance. I want to watch you get mad and turned on and cry.” Unable to hold back anymore, I give into the instinct to pump my hips, catching her off guard and earning me a hot, feminine whimper. “I want everything. All of you. All mine.”

  She opens her shirt and unsnaps her bra with a seductive twist, leaving her tits bare, her legs spread, blonde hair fanned out like a beacon. There are two barriers lying between my ultimate possession of this extraordinary girl. My zipper and her panties. Although I realize there is the possibility of three.

  “Have you had a man inside you before, Veda?”

  The pink returns to her cheeks, hands dropping to fists on the limousine floor. She shakes her head no. “I knew it would be you. When you jumped down into the light on the roof, I knew you’d be the first.”

  I slide lower along her pliant body, trailing my open mouth all the way down her exquisite belly, before lifting up her skirt, revealing her virgin pussy, the cotton underwear pulled so tight, I can see her grooves. “I think your father knew I’d be the first, as well.”

  Veda’s legs attempt to shoot together, but I hold them open and calm her down by kissing the insides of her knees, licking along her inner thighs toward her center. I lower her panties and almost come at the sight of her pink flesh, so damp and soft looking. She’s watching me get my first look and whatever she sees on my face is exciting her. Good. The more excited, the better she’ll taste on my tongue.

  “How many girls your age have had their pussy licked properly? Not very many, I’m guessing.” I toss the panties over my shoulder and get down on my stomach, settling her bent legs on either side of my neck, watching her stomach lift and fall with sexy little shudders. “Maybe right now, you don’t understand why that short skirt is such a taunt, but you will. You won’t feel the same in it after you’ve come on a man’s tongue.”

  I swear to Christ, I could lay there forever looking at her between the legs. The longer I stay in that position, the pinker her cheeks are turning, the more her ankles move restlessly on my back. “Please,” she whimpers, probably with no idea what she’s asking for.

  So I show her. Planting a kiss on top of her smooth mound, just to watch the blush deepen once more, I use two fingers to part her unfucked flesh. I can tell she’s holding her breath, but it releases in a near hysterical rush when I take my first lick. She actually tries to get away and although I can barely think around the exquisite taste of her, I realize in that moment, I’m desperate enough for more that I would imprison her, if necessary, to get at that tight cunt with my mouth. As it is, I’m gripping her thighs to keep them open, to keep her ass stationary, so I can get a nice, long suck of her clit.

  “Ramsey,” she sobs, fingers curling in my hair. “I-I…oh God.”

  That’s when I have her. Those to-die-for legs fall open in surrender, allowing me to lick my fill—although, I already know that will never happen. She’s so warm and fresh, the scent of some fruity, juvenile lotion hitting my nose, it’s a heavy realization that I’m screwed forever. Lust is so thick in my belly, it’s a wonder I don’t explode from the pressure there, in my balls, in my head. Must possess. Must take.

  When I suck her clit between my lips, her hips rear up and I can no longer keep my fingers out of the action, especially if I’m going to ready her for what comes next. As in, I’m going to ride her pussy like a madman, as soon as she tells me it doesn’t hurt any more, from my first invasion. And fuck, I could soak the front of my briefs already just thinking about that skirt bunched around her hips while I pump, pump, pump, those sneaker-covered feet flopping up and down above my back.

  Groaning at the image, I give her slick flesh my middle finger—and I release her clit with a curse. “Every part of you is going to be a challenge, isn’t it? That smart mouth, your mischievous mind…now this impossible-to-break-in pussy.” I try to twist my finger in a circle, but even that proves difficult. Reluctantly, I slip my finger free of her entrance and pick up the phone, dialing the driver. “Continue driving until you hear otherwise.”

  I hang up before he gives me an affirmative answer, sh
oving my middle finger home inside Veda once more, drawing it in and out. “Ramsey,” she screams, bucking her hips. “That’s making me feel…”

  Letting my mouth hover over her clit, I release a blanket of warm breath onto the wet flesh. “Making you feel what?” I flick my tongue out against the bud so many times in quick succession, the movement blurs. “Answer me.”

  One of her knees knocks against the limousine wall in an attempt to spread wider, God love her. “Good. And full, but…strange. You’re making everything feel so strange.”

  “Let it happen for me, angel.” I bend my finger inside her and tease her G-spot, smiling against her wet pussy when she jerks, crying out my name. “This is one of the things all those men want to do to you, Veda. They want to lick you off so bad. Go on, give me the little tongue bath they’re not lucky enough to taste. Go on.”

  There’s no describing Veda having her first orgasm on my mouth. She damn near rips my fucking hair out, screaming herself hoarse above me, so loud the driver knows I’m banging my little school girl in the back. Passing motorists have no idea I’m about to take a virgin right here on the vibrating, carpeted floor as we fly across the Brooklyn Bridge and to be honest, part of me wishes they did know. It would make my possession of Veda that much more complete and I ache like a son-of-a-bitch to make it as official as possible.

  I rise up over a still-reeling Veda. My cock is in a world of agony as I release it from behind the constricting fly of my dress pants and let it drop heavily over her trim, shuddering stomach, groaning when she sucks in a breath, her eyes shooting wide. There’s no way to make the first thrust easier, but knowing I’m about to cause her pain makes me hate myself. As if buying a seventeen-year-old with the intention of sleeping with her on a regular basis hasn’t already filled me with enough unwelcome guilt, I know once I’m inside that tight, untouched heat, I’m going to turn into a savage.

  “What are you thinking about?”