Dirty Dark Prey: A Dark College Bully Romance (Elite Royal University Duet Book 2)

by L. J. Woods

  “Johnson!” Coach Rose’s voice makes me freeze mid-swing. “Save that for the ice!”

  “Olsen!” Another older man stands next to Coach in a suit. “Get the hell inside. Now!”

  “See you inside … monkey.” He flashes another grin and when I lunge for him, Coach pulls me back.

  He gives me a pep talk about using this as a driving force but all I hear is a ringing in my ears. With a pat on my back, he heads inside as Lexi approaches me.

  “Hey, I can’t believe he—”

  “What were you and Perez talking about?”

  Her brows furrow. “I was asking about his dad.”

  “You seemed pretty fucking amused about an alcoholic in rehab.”

  Lexi’s hands come to her hips. “What’s this about, Isaac?” I ignore the way it feels when she says my name. “Better yet, why were you talking to my mom all huddled up?”

  “Did you forget? Your family’s trying to fuck me over. And why are you changing the subject?”

  “Why are you being a jealous asshole?”

  My jaw clenches. “Why are you ruining my life?”

  Her brows knit, then she takes a step back. I want to move my feet. I want to tell her I’m sorry, I want to tell her I’m scared.

  “Why would you say that?” she asks, her voice softer than before.

  “Johnson!” Coach calls my name again while her blurry eyes stare into mine.

  “I got a game to play.” And with that I move to the doors, shoving her sneaker at her chest.

  “Know what? Perez is the better man,” she calls behind me like she knows exactly what those words do. “At least he knows how to treat a girl.” And I don’t give her the satisfaction of a response before I move inside.

  The entire way through Coach’s orders, Lexi’s words replay in my head. Then her mom’s. This week. This month. This fucking year has been more than I admit. So when Perez steps up to speak in the locker room painted with ERU colours, all I can do is glare into his head.

  “Maybe Perez is the better man. At least he knows how to treat a girl.”

  He smiles my way when he wraps up his speech and his brows furrow when I don’t return it.

  “People don’t change you know.”

  She won’t change. And neither will I. So why the fuck are we kidding ourselves?

  Perez leads the guys into our pump-up ritual. Yelling into each other’s faces, pounding each other on the back. I'm too zoned out, too pissed off, to join in on any of it.

  The rink announcer yells our team and the guys cheer before we all start heading towards the ice.

  “Everything alright, man?” Perez stops me on the way to the rink. "I know I've been asking a lot but—"

  “Fine.” I try to push past him with a nudge of my shoulder but he stops me, peering his greens into mine.

  “You sure you’re good to play this game? I understand the pressure you’re under with the trial.” He leans closer. “And what happened with Lexi’s—”

  “It’s all gravy, baby.” I try to play it off but it comes out harsher than I’d like and his brows furrow again.

  “Come on, boys!” Coach yells. Perez waits for me to say something else but with another nudge, I push towards the rink.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the ERU Hawks!”

  The energy in the rink is electric as the crowd goes wild for the first game of the series. Gold and green fill the stands with banners, posters and celebratory outfits. The guys are pumped, ready for their first round of the Eastern playoffs. Many of them are prospects for NHL teams, Perez included. Me? I’m only support. It’s easy to channel my aggression into slapping pucks on the ice. And after the altercation I had outside, I’m ready to check a fucker. Hard.

  The Bears get the puck after the drop, but we’re quick to recover, intercepting the puck on their next pass. Our starting lineup moves like arctic foxes on the ice like we’ve been doing this forever and most of us have.

  Perez passes the puck my way and Glenn has a clear path to the Bears’ net. He’s ready, waiting with his eyes on the prize but all I can remember is the way Glenn looked at Lexi. What he did. The way he made her feel like a piece of fucking meat.

  Number thirty-five on our team has a slight opening on the left and I only have a second to make the pass.

  Too late.

  A Bear heads my way so I deflect the puck to my left and … it goes right over the glass. A ref blows the whistle as one of the awaiting fans catches it. Lexi’s a few rows down, talking to Carter.

  My grip tightens around my stick. I thought I set him straight.

  “Dude,” Perez skates up to me with his arms wide. “Glenn was wide open. You sure you’re—”

  “I got this!”

  The game resumes and Perez stays on the ice when we make the change. A Bear misses his pass and Perez lands a breakaway. The crowd goes wild as he hurries to the net, Bears chasing behind him but he’s fast, those eyes narrowing through his mask like he’s laser-focused.

  THWACK!

  Score.

  Lexi’s the first on her feet, cheering along. And for some reason that makes me break my stick.

  My game is off. Way off. On my next play, I miss another pass and taking out my anger on a Bear only gives me a penalty as well as another “what the fuck?” from Perez.

  Self-righteous asshole. "Fuck off." Like he hasn't gone after guys on the ice.

  At the end of the first period, Coach approaches me in the locker room. He says I'm playing too hard. Too angry. Wild.

  I can’t even focus on the game I love with all this shit in my mind. With Cassandra running the show and Lexi being … Lexi.

  When I ask Coach about Dom or levelling up to captain he says he can’t risk it. “It would take Perez being down and out for us to do that and considering your situation. It’s not a good look.” My situation. The one Lexi’s family caused. “Is there something else going on, Johnson? What’s the matter between you and Perez, you two usually play like coffee and cream.” I shrug. “Whatever it is, straighten it out. Don’t let it cost us the series.” He pats me on the back as he heads towards another player.

  As much as it pains me to admit, Coach is right. Perez is my best friend. My brother. It’s better if I level with him.

  He’s not around the locker room so I figure he went to get some fresh air. His usual. We don’t have much time before we’re back on the ice but when I move towards the back door, I hear that laugh.

  Her laugh.

  Pushing the door open a smidge, Perez leans against the wall, his eyes on her. She smiles up at him, Perez laughing away like he doesn’t know she’s the one trying to ruin me.

  My biceps harden and I’m ready to approach them before Coach yells, “Five minutes!”

  Perez moves towards the door and I back away as he steps in but not without asking, “The fuck are you doing?”

  “Getting some fresh air?” he replies like I’m insane.

  “With Lexi?”

  “Yeah, she's worried about you, but I saw you talking to Coach so I told her you’re alright. But she doesn't buy it, and I don’t either.”

  “So you guys are friends now?”

  “I wouldn’t say friends,” he says as I follow him towards his locker. “She’s my girlfriend’s best friend and she’s almost your sis—”

  “She’s not my sister.” I don’t know what makes my stomach knot more.

  “Whatever. Lexi isn’t as bad as you make her out to be.” He nudges me as he wraps his stick but that only makes my stomach tighten. “Actually it looks like you guys are kinda perfect for each other," he chuckles. "Maybe you should reconsider your revenge plot."

  “Or what? You will?”

  His brows lower again before Coach hurries us towards the ice. Perez shakes his head as if I’m the one being unreasonable.

  Did everyone forget I’m about to go down for the most serious offence?

  When I’m back on the ice, my head’s more fucked up than it was
before. This isn’t the first time Perez has moved in on one of the Kings’ girls.

  He steals the puck from a Bear, and that’s when I see that Viking motherfucker make his way towards him. And I see red. Pushing off my skates, I’m ready to check him for what he did.

  Viking sees me flying towards him and dodges. Perez has that Captain American smile on his face as the energy in the crowd picks up. While I have the space to slow down after missing that check, I don’t. The elbow meant for Viking heads right towards his face.

  CLACK!

  His face collides with my elbow and Perez is going down, the puck sliding away from us. A Bear collides with him before he can get up, his knees going right for his head and I swear I see the life drain out of Perez when he gets floored.

  The whistle blows.

  And a smile twitches at my face.

  The refs skate over to him while I stand back and Perez tries to get up but falls right back to the ice.

  The crowd murmurs and when I look at Lexi, she’s on her feet, jaw-dropped. When I glance over at Cassandra, a wide smile is on her face and she nods towards me.

  Pere’z body looks limp as two refs try to help him up, a medic rushing onto the ice. Another medic wheels a stretcher out and something tells me Perez isn't coming back to this game.

  “Your lack of control costs us our caption.” Coach skates over to me, a stern look on his face. “Careful what you ask for.”

  Perez gets carried out on the stretcher, Lexi standing and clapping along with everyone else as the guys knock their sticks against the wall.

  Then it hits me.

  If I can do that to my best friend, maybe I am fucking guilty.

  My eyes land on Lexi.

  She's right. I'm a monster.

  And it’s all her fault.

  Twenty-One

  Lexi

  Did that just happen?

  The Hawks lost after Christian went down.

  Isaac wasn’t enough to lead the team to a victory. His game got even worse after they wheeled Ray’s boyfriend off in a stretcher.

  I’m waiting by one of the vending machines, texting Ray an update when one of the guys from the team walks in front of me. I’m relieved it’s not one I recognize from the party. The demise Isaac saved me from. Again.

  How am I supposed to be independent if I can’t even solve my problems?

  Once I get the player’s attention, I ask about Christian but even after all that, there’s only one person on my mind. And I can't find him anywhere. It makes it hard to listen to what he’s saying but I nod along. Curling my strands, my mind stays on the way Isaac and I tag-teamed that asshole before the game. Then Isaac became the asshole. He always does. So why do I—

  “Enough of this shit.” A firm grip lands around my wrist, leather and honey sending flutters up my spine.

  With a hard tug, I stumble over my sneakers. “Isaac, what the fuck?” When I try to pull away, it’s no use, he only pulls harder. “Wait!”

  “Not anymore.” Picking me up, he throws me over his shoulder. “I’m so through with your shit, Lexi. You wanna play games? Fine. We’ll play. Just know I’m the fucking King of them.”

  I don’t know what he’s talking about, or where I am until my back hits cold tile. There’s a fire in his eyes, standing in front of me dressed in nothing but his gym shorts. I swallow hard and before I can say anything, he pulls a long black rope out of his pocket.

  “And what are you planning to do with that?” I ask, that volcano burning inside me. The glimmer in his eye makes my thighs clench and being in this shower only reminds me of what happens every time the two of us get under a stream of water. Bliss.

  My wrists land in his hold before he pulls my arms above my head with a hard tug. I keep my eyes on him, his nostrils flaring as the rope tightens around my wrist and sinks into my skin.

  “I’m tired of you making a fucking mockery of us,” he says. I hiss when he tightens the rope some more. “Do you know what I had to go through today because of you?” My eyes widen when I’m lifted to the tips of my shoes.

  Isaac flicks the tap, cold water raining over me. I squeal, flicking my head to the side to avoid the stream.

  He slaps a hand on my mouth as I wiggle, my body almost hanging from the showerhead. Then he brings his face close to mine, his breath reeking of booze. “After what happened at the pool you think you can flounce around half-naked and fuck up my shit?”

  My words muffle against his warm palm. “I wore this for you, you psycho.”

  “I bet you did.” He tugs on my shirt, cold air washing over my perky nipples before the stream of water soothes them. Then something buzzes. A familiar sound. Before I can place it …

  Rrrrip!

  The fabric of my shirt tears right off my body. Then Isaac wraps it around my head like a gag. My words muffle against it bringing a smirk to his face.

  With the way he’s been acting today, I’m not sure what’s coming next.

  Fighting the knots twisting in my stomach, struggling only tightens the rope around my wrists.

  Taking a step back, he chuckles. A rolling devilish laugh.

  Who does this?

  A narcissist.

  A psychopath.

  A murderer.

  So why does it make me heat with anticipation?

  My eyes widen, a strong vibration between my legs and when I look down, he has my waterproof wand in his hand. Flutters burst through me when he pushes it against my clit, my head falling back against the shower wall.

  “If you wore this for me, then why are you parading it around in front of everyone else?" He slides behind me, his hardness pressed against my ass. "Something tells me you like when I’m all riled up, don’t you?” If getting him upset gets me this, he’s so fucking right.

  I murmur as he pulls the wand between my chest, hovering it over my hardened, wet nipples. Flutters flow from my stomach to my thighs, my core, my legs. Everywhere.

  “The only person you’re gonna be a whore for is me.” He pushes the wand between my legs again, sparks filling me. “You get me riled up so I can remind you who the fuck you belong to, don’t you?”

  His shorts floof to the ground before the spongy tip of his head pushes at my entrance. I’m in his control and I want more. I crave more.

  Isaac’s words land by my ear. “You belong to me, Lexi.” He plunges inside me, the wand against my clit and the entire shower stall fades away. “You only want me, because I’m the only one that makes you feel this good. You know that. Don’t you?” My body welcomes him. No hesitating. No tension. Just sweet fucking bliss.

  The adrenaline must still pump through him from the game because he doesn’t let up. He fucks me hard and fast, giving me his all with my leg against his body while he keeps me in place.

  “When I’m done with you, everyone will know who you belong to.” His warm body offsets the cold shower and when he tugs my shirt from my mouth, he growls, “Say my fucking name.” All my senses heighten but everything’s a blur. “Say my fucking name so everyone knows it.”

  The room spins when I’m almost there, those flutters ready to explode. The thumps of the vibrations match his thrusts so perfectly that I can’t last. “Fuck, yes, Isaac!” He keeps thrusting into me when I reach my peak and while he usually holds me and soothes me, this time, he keeps going.

  Isaac fucks me until my body goes limp. Until I go numb and I can't feel the rope digging into my burning wrists. All I feel is him. My head falls back against his warm, heaving chest before he lifts my chin. Those thick lips crash into mine, a blissful wave flowing through me as he lets out a loud grunt and fills me.

  I’m gasping for air, when his cream trails down my legs and while I feel used, and weak and lost. I’m with him. He wants me as much as I want him and that’s all I needed to know.

  When he loosens my wrists, I’m expecting to fall into his strong arms but my knees hit the shower floor. My hands come to my sore wrists, reddened from where the rope cut i
nto my skin.

  “Glad we settled that.” He steps out of the shower, leaving the water running over my body. Then he looks at me with a smirk and leaves.

  My heart pounds as the sound of his wet feet grow further away and another door closes.

  That’s when everything comes back to me. The shower. The sound of the locker room. Other streams of water. The closing and opening of lockers. Then I realize, we weren’t the only ones here.

  Everyone on the team heard Isaac Johnson fuck the hell out of me. And leave.

  My cheeks heat, a warmth spreading across my chest again.

  I’m such a slut.

  His slut.

  And I’m as fucked up as he is.

  I wait for a moment, washing off and hoping everyone leaves before I do.

  I don’t understand why I'm ashamed to show my face. It’s not like we’re related. And while I take an extra-long time cleaning his jizz off me, the locker room is still busy even after I’m done.

  There’s a towel waiting for me when I leave, nothing else. So with a deep breath and the towel tight around me, I take my first step out of the stall. The guys hoot and holler as much as they can after a losing game. But I scurry to leave the room.

  No matter how good that felt, he left me.

  Am I kidding myself?

  Maybe all Isaac and I have is mind-blowing sex and nothing more.

  My heart pounds, ignoring the questionable looks from stragglers after the game as I walk out to the rink entrance in nothing but a towel. My eyes scan for my car as I try to swallow the glob forming in my tingling throat.

  I need to get out of here.

  My feet patter against the ground as I dash for my car. Then something warm lands in my hand, the smell of pot coming with it.

  When I look up, Isaac stares at me with hazy eyes, much different than the way he looked at me moments ago.

  “Took you long enough,” he says, his hand in mine. And all the doubt disappears. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  My hand tightens around his, and as we move to a car, my stomach twists.

  He waited for me.

  Then the real question hits me.

  How the hell am I supposed to be independent when I’m being completely ruled by Isaac Johnson?