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

by L. J. Woods

  So I take it out on the wall on my way out.

  Lexi

  My chest tightens, standing in front of ERU's main building.

  The sun feels hotter than it is and that’s not because I’m wearing another black-on-black ensemble. These black stiletto boots feel heavier than they did this morning, and this tight dress feels much more confining. Today was not the day for long sleeves.

  The first time I stood here I wouldn't think of being this goth chic. The first time I stood here, I had all the dreams and possibilities in the world. But I’ve crushed them all.

  The end-of-year fashion show is my last chance to make an impression on my program. While I can retake my courses, doing that will forever stain my progress.

  But I can’t get that fashion show if I don’t go inside.

  “You got this,” Dominic whispers. He passes me on the end of an Isaac sandwich, Christian on the other side.

  It’s like they’ve inducted my little brother into whatever twisted family they have. And while I want to hate it, I’m happy Dom has some protection. Some camaraderie. Isaac looks over his shoulder before heading inside, giving me a nod like he’s saying I can do this. The flutters rise in my stomach, not expecting that after what I did last night.

  I kicked him out after sex and he's still on my side.

  Damn him for throwing me off guard.

  Threw me off guard when I let him dominate me during my show. It wasn't until I kicked him out that I realized everyone saw.

  The worst part? They demand more.

  More of Johnson.

  More of our chaos.

  My body demands it too. So does my heart.

  “There she is!”

  “Holy shit, she’s back.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  I wait for it. The harsh whispers, the crude murmurs.

  I’ve prepared myself to hear more students call me a slut, murderer or downright crazy. After what I did at the courthouse, I'm starting to think that I am.

  My alarm goes off in my black bag. Ten minutes to class.

  Time to do this.

  Lifting my head high, my boots clack climbing the steps.

  You can do this, girl.

  With a big breath, I push on the doors and make my re-entrance into ERU.

  “You’re such a hero!” Juliette from the swim team meets me the minute I'm through the door. “A she-ro!”

  Applause ripples through the air, students lining the main grand hall. All their eyes are on me but they're not glares or scowls.

  My brows knit. "What's going on?"

  Isaac stands at the end of the main hall, leading the applause as students crowd around me.

  “We’re so happy to hear you’re getting off that trial." Juliette beams, her hair in a high blonde ponytail. "It’s about time those guys get what’s coming to them. You’re far from in the wrong. As far as we see it, Donovan killed himself. What a waste of a hottie."

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Can’t believe what I’m seeing.

  I braced for the school to blame me for bringing one of their faculty down but ... they’re praising me. Like I’m one of them.

  Christian and Ray walk away, leaving Isaac with a smirk before he follows them.

  “You’re my Queen.”

  That’s exactly how I feel right now. Like I have a crown. One I earned on my own. And even then, something tells me Isaac has something to do with it.

  All through the halls, I get waves and re-introductions like I’m exactly what Juliette said, their hero.

  When I get to class, students crowd around me, asking for details on things I can’t discuss. And after riding Isaac’s cock to glory last night, this all puts me on top of the moon.

  Things feel like they did before Isaac got charged. Before everything changed when I found that thong. In fact, things feel better.

  “Okay, everyone, settle down, please,” Hera enters the room, throwing her glasses on the top of her head. A younger man follows her with a clipboard and tablet, tapping away. “This is Anthony, my assistant. We’re all happy to have Miss Lyon back but we have big things to discuss.”

  While everyone slinks into their seat, I sit up in mine. I twirl my brown strands while I wait for the news. The news that can change my entire life. The thing I’m here for.

  My heart pounds against my chest like it did last night when Isaac had his heart pressed to mine.

  So why did you kick him out?

  I was mad at myself for giving in and I needed to prove I have power over him. Can’t prove that when I spent the entire night thinking about it.

  “We don’t have much time so I’m going to tell you what I’ve decided right away.” She leans against the table. “Brenda Tillier, David Gregory and Lucille Burns. Your designs will be the highlight of this years’ fashion show. Congratulations.”

  The colour drains from my face as some students start a small applause. Others sigh, some crossing their arms in jealousy. But I'm frozen, my body hollow.

  “Now I know a lot of you wanted this role," Hera continues. "But I hope you’ll be happy for your fellow designers. You’ll all have a role to play in this show. It goes towards your final mark so, please, put your best foot forward.” My eyes stay on Hera but her words muffle as a glob grows in my throat.

  My career is over. Done before it’s even begun.

  I can’t believe I gave up an internship for this.

  You gave it all up for him.

  The rest of the class is a blur, all the sparkle from this morning fading away. The minute it comes to an end, I don't stick around, hustling for the door as my chest tightens again.

  “Well, that didn’t go so well.”

  Isaac’s voice startles me when my boots clack into the hall. He’s standing to the side, his laptop under his arm. His teal blazer offsets those bright brown eyes. Beige linen slacks do nothing to hide that bulge inside them.

  “Were you outside here the entire time?" I ask. "What are you? A stalker?”

  “You wish, baby.” He winks and I hate that it still makes my stomach flip.

  Pushing around him, I start walking down the hall. He follows and the sea of people part as we do, like royalty. And I guess, in a way, we are.

  My mind starts to drift to what it would be like if Isaac and I got to be an item. Cruising through these halls like a King and Queen every day but I stop myself.

  As far as I know, I have no future. “Here to rub it in?” I ask, tired of him being on my tail.

  “Only if you’re talking about my cock.” His tongue lands between his lips and it's hard to pull my eyes away.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” I hide that smirk on my face before he gets any ideas. “I have to figure out the rest of my life.”

  “You’re so dramatic.”

  “Dramatic?" I stop under a stone arch, leading to the path to the pool building. Light streams in from the glass walls on either side making Isaac look like an angel. But he's not. "I lost the one thing that could save my poor performance here. It's over for me.”

  “What about the rest of your marks?”

  “They’re hardly enough and I don’t know if taking a chance working in this fashion show is even worth it to pass the course.”

  “Then you’ll have time for something else?" His face beams.

  “I swear if you say your cock—”

  "My cock is off-limits after the way you treated it.” He leans against the wall and I don't miss when people decide to take another path.

  “The way I treated it? I treated it the way you treated me. Like a piece of—”

  “Do you want the job or not?” There's a glimmer in his eyes.

  “What job?”

  He shrugs. “Someone wants your designs.”

  “My designs.”

  “Yeah. Fifty-k. You up for it?”

  My eyes narrow, clutching my sketchpad to my chest. “Who is this someone and why are they willing to pay fifty-thousand dollars for my de
signs? They can’t even make it into the school fashion show.”

  “Someone desperate for a designer I guess. And if you’re not doing that fashion show you have a lot of time on your hands. Ten outfits. One week.”

  “And where the hell am I supposed to get the equipment and fabric for ten outfits in a week? The school only has their sewing rooms open for a few hours every day and—”

  His finger comes to my mouth, a spark spreading along my lips. “I thought you’d never ask, baby.”

  Thirty-One

  Lexi

  My jaw hangs.

  If Isaac’s trying to fix things between us, it shows.

  He leans against the door as my head spins around the room and I can't believe what I'm seeing.

  Two state-of-the-art sewing machines sit in the middle of the space, a skylight above it, and I’m surrounded by all the fabric in the world. Well, what looks to be anyway. They’re all sorted by colour. Cotton, silk, linen, wool, and a variety of specialty ones. A few sewing mannequins sit around the room, mirrors on each side of it. There's a cutting table, a wall with ribbons, buttons and other accessories.

  Butterflies and bees wander my skin, forming a grin that makes my jaw ache. This place is … “Perfect." Spinning to Isaac, his eyes are already on me, a smile on his face. "You did this?” My eyes land on the leaf of a palm tree to the side of the door. “Wait, wasn’t this your zen room?”

  “Ten dresses in a week for fifty grand,” he says. “Think you can handle it?”

  “In a room like this?” Spinning around, I fight the urge to pinch myself. The smell of fresh linen blends with leather and honey, a tingle rising up my spine. “Absolutely.”

  “Good.” His eyes linger on me, the flutters settling in my chest. Then his eyes land on the cutting table. “Wanna test out how sturdy that is?”

  And so I don’t take him on that offer, I push him towards the door. “Out.”

  He chuckles, turning towards it. “I'm only saying if you ever need a muse or a naked body—”

  Closing the door in his face, my back falls against it while I try to take it all in again.

  “That’s not the response I thought I’d get.” His voice rumbles through the other side like he knows I’m still there.

  That smile spreads across my face some more like I can feel his warmth against me. "Thank you, Isaac.”

  “That’s better.” I can hear the smile on his face when he says it, like having this room is as fulfilling for him as it is for me. I’m about to walk away when his words rumble through again. “Love you, Lexi.”

  I freeze, my breath stopping in my throat, his words hitting me like a bullet. A brick. A fucking tank.

  Turning around, my heart pounds when I swing the door open.

  But … he’s gone.

  Closing the door, my back hits it again as I stare at the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen.

  A tear comes to my eye, my chest getting heavy.

  Now, how the fuck am I supposed to work with a bombshell like that?

  Turns out, designing and sewing ten outfits in seven days is a good distraction.

  Easier after I dropped out of the rest of my course.

  There’s no way I’m working on creating someone else’s designs when I have the biggest contract of my life. Thanks to Isaac.

  And hell, he’s right. I can be independent while still getting some help. He might have given me the job, but these designs are all mine.

  The smile I had that day hasn't disappeared while working on these creations. It’s Friday and I’m ahead of schedule, putting the finishing touch on my final piece, Etta James blaring in the background.

  Isaac didn’t get rid of this zen room, because as far as I know, this room is my haven. Scraps of black fabric sit around me. Silk. Velvet. Suede. I’m mixing harsher materials with softer ones. Harsh lines with gentle details. If Isaac wanted to be a muse he most definitely is because that’s what’s fueling these chaotic designs. Us.

  With the last button in place, I lean back in my velvet chair, admiring my creation. The sound of wheels rolling by the door pulls my eyes away.

  After having a missing mother for most of my life, I know what that sound means.

  My curiosity gets the best of me as I lunge for the door. No one's in the hall but when I make my way towards the foyer, Isaac has designer luggage rolling behind him.

  “You’re leaving?” A pang hits my chest and I can’t remember the last time I’ve left this room outside of going to the bathroom.

  Anna brought me food the first couple of days before Isaac gave her a vacation which she needed. So he’s been leaving me takeout at the door ever since. Then texting to make sure I’ve eaten it.

  Part of me feels like a baby.

  Part of me feels like someone cares.

  Part of me feels at home.

  So why is he leaving?

  Isaac turns around, dressed in a black and white patterned silk shirt, designer slacks. His hair is coiled and shiny. And now I’m fully aware of how much of a mess I look.

  Leaning my head down, I take a quick sniff of my pits and … yeah, that’s not any better. I’m standing here in biking shorts and a t-shirt, my brown hair a mess, While he looks ... delicious.

  Wait, is he going on a date?

  My eyes drift to the bag, muscles tensing.

  An overnight date?

  “I have some business to handle." He walks over to me, leather and honey mixing with something spicy.

  Something new.

  "Women?" I ask.

  His brows furrow before he brushes a strand of hair off my head. Placing it by my cheek, I try to ignore the spark on my face when his thumb grazes my skin. “Haven't been on a date since that morning."

  My cheeks heat before I gesture to his bag. "So, where are you going?"

  "Toronto. Finally got a chance to collab with SilkyKitty.”

  “Wow …” I want to show my excitement for him, I really do. SilkyKitty is a rising star, known for her trap stylings and her crystal vocals. “That’s really great.”

  “While you’ve been working on your designs, I’ve been in the studio all week.” His grin grows like that's where he belongs.

  I’ve felt like this is where I belonged the last week too and now my mind is drifting to what it would be like to be with him again. Or for the first time. Officially. We can both work on our art under the same roof and keep these goofy smiles on our faces. Coming out of our creations only for sustenance ... and sex.

  “I’ll be back in a week. Dom’s finishing the championship series with the guys then he’ll be back in a few days. So …” He looks around. “Looks like you got the joint to yourself.”

  I follow his gaze, looking around the entrance to the massive living room and kitchen. My hands come to my arms. “I used to feel suffocated in this place. Now, it feels massive.”

  He chuckles. “At least you won't have to hide in your sewing room all day.”

  My sewing room.

  I still haven’t gotten over it. Still haven’t gotten over what he said to me through the door the other day either.

  He stalls, his eyes wandering around my face, shooting tingles into my skin. “Gonna miss me?”

  “Not like you’ll miss me,” I tease in return, my heart picking up against my chest.

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  And the truth still shakes me. So I go for it, my voice shaky when I ask, “Hey, did you mean what you said when—?”

  Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

  “Sorry, alarm for the flight." Isaac’s phone goes off in his pocket. "Taking dad’s PJ.” He’s quick to silence it before he asks, “Mean what?”

  How can he not know what I'm talking about?

  Part of me thinks he wants me to say it. To admit what he admitted to me.

  “Nevermind,” I shake it off. Afraid to ruin this … moment. One that's nice and civil, his charm giving me pulses between my legs. “You should get going.”

  Hi
s hand reaches out and my body stiffens when it wraps around the back of my neck and pulls me closer.

  My heart thuds harder before his lips land on my head, my body erupting with a mix of burn, flutters, and tingles. I don’t usually respond to gentle touches this way but my body still craves him in any form. Ruthless. Brave. Or … whatever this new side to him is.

  Maybe having me around is good for him.

  Good for me.

  And now he’s leaving.

  “See you when I get back?” he asks, pulling away.

  I nod before he wheels his bag to the door.

  Stop him.

  Stop him.

  Stop him!

  But I don’t. He gives me one last smirk before the door swivels closed behind him. And I’m left in the foyer, in the very place we met. And I’m stricken all over again.

  Shaking myself out of this Isaac-induced haze, this girl needs a shower. And not only because I stink.

  As I walk back to my sewing room to shut it all down, my head is a whirl. Maybe being alone in the house is what I need to figure it all out. But part of me feels like he’s gone forever, a hollow feeling in my chest. In my heart.

  Suck it up, Lexi.

  Passing the studio door, it's open for the first time all week. It smells like him. Honey and leather.

  A sheet of paper sits on top of the soundboard inside and I glance over my shoulder. I'm expecting Isaac to yell at me like the trillionth time he’s done before for even looking inside. Then I remember no one’s here. So I drop my shoulders and make my way in.

  It looks different than the number of times I’ve been in here before. Gone are his dad’s cheesy zebra print and red leather. It’s much more sophisticated, with risks in designs that shouldn’t work, but they do. It’s very Isaac Johnson. The sofa from the warehouse is what I notice first. Then the long wooden coffee table in front of it looks like the same wood from the old opium bed he had in the zen room. Built into the other side of the coffee table is a shelf filled with records and what looks like recording equipment.