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Fallen Heirs : A Dark High School Bully Romance (Windsor Academy Book 3)

Page 16

by Laura Lee


  “Fuck that,” he growls as he pulls his car into the garage and kills the engine. “I don’t ever want to hear you say something like that again. You’re nothing like any of those people.”

  “How can you say that?” I challenge. “I wanted him dead. I’m happy he’s dead.”

  Kingston grips my chin and turns me toward him. “Your feelings are one-hundred percent justified, Jazz. Lucas Gale severely beat, stabbed, and violated you. He attacked you multiple times. If someone didn’t show up to haul him off last night, he would have likely succeeded in raping you. There’s no way you were his only victim.

  “I have no doubt that if Lucas were still alive, there would’ve been more women who suffered at his hands. Someone who behaves like that without conscience, and with such determination, is a goddamn psychopath. Lucas reminded me of our dads, which is why I’ve never liked him. Knowing he was the man behind the mask only proves that my instincts about him were spot on.

  “You have one of the biggest hearts of anyone I’ve ever met, Jazz. You should never question who you are, especially because of this situation. People like Lucas Gale or our fathers don’t deserve your sympathy.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” I sigh. “Maybe I’m just conditioned to believe violence is a bad thing, no matter what.”

  “There’s no maybe about it.” Kingston shakes his head. “Hey, if nothing else, consider this one less problem we have to worry about. Merry Christmas to us.”

  My lips curl up in the corners. “Merry-fucking-Christmas to us.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  KINGSTON

  “Merry Christmas Eve, baby girl.” Bentley swoops Jazz into a hug as he steps inside the pool house.

  My eyes narrow when his hands slide a little too close to her perfectly heart-shaped ass. “Watch the hands, asshole.”

  Bent laughs. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure, you don’t.” I swear to God, he does this shit to fuck with me on purpose.

  “Bentley, stop antagonizing him,” Jazz chides.

  Apparently, I’m not the only one who’s picked up on the fact that Fitzgerald’s a shithead.

  “That’s okay, baby,” I call out. “The more Bentley pushes my buttons, the more I get to go caveman on your ass later.”

  Jazz whacks Bentley’s chest with the back of her hand. “Now, you really have to stop. Kingston doesn’t need more incentive to revert back to his Neanderthal self.”

  “All right, all right.” My dumbass friend holds his hands up. “I’ll be good.”

  “We’ll see how long that lasts,” I grumble.

  Bentley falls back on the couch. “When’s the food gonna be here? I’m starving.”

  Jazz grabs the tray of cookies we grabbed from her work and sets it on the coffee table. We were planning to make some ourselves—I know, how domestic of us—but the whole abduction/murder thing happened, so we swung by the coffee shop.

  “Munch on those. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  “You’re the shiz, Jazzy.” Bentley grabs a stocking-shaped cookie and shoves the entire thing in his mouth at once. “These are de-lish-shess.” Crumbs fall out of his mouth as he speaks.

  “Gross, Bent.” Jazz shakes her head as she pushes his feet off the table. “You couldn’t wait to say that until after you finished chewing?”

  “Nope,” he says, still chewing, cookie crumbs still spewing out of his mouth.

  I point at him. “You’re vacuuming that shit up before you leave.”

  Bent looks between Jazz and me as he brushes his shirt off. “Sheesh, when did you two become such an old married couple?”

  Jazz laughs, but I don’t find the humor in his statement, because I don’t see anything wrong with that.

  There’s a knock on the door, so I answer it, grab the food, and give the delivery guy his tip. “Thanks, man.”

  His eyes light up when he sees the Benjamin in his palm. “Oh, wow. Thanks so much. Merry Christmas.”

  “You, too.” I nod.

  Jazz and Bentley join me at the counter as I set out all of the cartons.

  “Ainsley would shit bricks if she knew we were eating Chinese takeout right now.” Bentley snags a container and starts dumping its contents onto a plate. “Sweet! Orange chicken for the win!”

  “Why?” Jazz gets this adorable little frown on her face. “What’s wrong with Chinese food?”

  Jesus Christ, did I really just think my girlfriend’s frown was adorable? I check to see if my balls are still there. Jazz gives me a weird look but doesn’t ask why I’m grabbing my junk through my jeans.

  “Nothing’s wrong with Chinese,” I assure her. “It’s awesome, and if we had our way, we’d order it every year.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  Bentley laughs. “Because Ainsley insists that we eat ham and all the fixings on Christmas Eve—which the place she orders from is the fucking bomb—but it’s no Chinese.”

  “Have you guys ever tried cooking the meal?”

  Bentley and I both laugh.

  I swing my arm around Jazz’s shoulders and pull her into my side. “Uh... no.”

  “Why not?”

  Bentley points to me. “Because your boy is the only one of us who wouldn’t burn a pot of water, and there’s no way in hell he’s going to take hours to prepare a meal that’s wolfed down in a matter of minutes.”

  “I know how to cook,” Jazz offers. “I’m pretty good at it, too. I helped my mom with Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner every year.”

  “Davenport, you better put a ring on it before that shit gets out. If the dudes find out someone who looks as good as she does can cook, you’re fucked.”

  I flip him off. “Very funny.”

  Although... the ring idea isn’t so bad.

  Shit. I am fucked.

  Jazz reaches over me to grab a pair of chopsticks. “Okay, if you two idiots are done, let’s dig in.”

  I use my finger to grab her belt loop and plant a kiss on her lips. “I love you.”

  She smiles. “I love you, too.”

  I can feel Bentley’s stare burning into the side of my face as I watch Jazz carry her plate over to the living room and take a seat.

  “What?” I keep my voice low enough so it can’t be heard over the TV.

  “Nothing,” he replies, matching my volume. “Just didn’t realize you two were freely dropping L-bombs now.”

  I raise a brow. “Didn’t realize I needed your permission.”

  Bentley flips me off. “Fuck off, dude. You don’t need to be a dick. I was just making an observation.”

  We stare at each other for a few beats. Since that night between the three of us, Bent hasn’t stepped over the line once. Not unless he’s purposely pushing my buttons, anyway. I know he’s moved on from any notion of making Jazz his girl, and I honestly think he knows he misinterpreted his feelings for her. So, why does this whole I love you thing matter so much to him?

  “Why do you care, anyway?”

  “Because you’re my dawg and Jazzy’s my girl.” Bent rolls his eyes when I glare. “I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it. I’m happy for you, man. Both of you.”

  Bentley holds out his fist, so I give it a bump with my left hand. And just like that, the tension is gone.

  “You gonna tell me how the other hand got all banged up? What’d I miss in the last twenty-four hours?”

  “Dude, you missed a lot. I’ll fill you in after we eat.”

  “Aw, hell, I have a feeling this is gonna be some story.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “You guys coming?” Jazz calls over her shoulder. “I’ve got Die Hard all cued up and ready to go.”

  Bentley’s jaw drops. “Wait a second... we’re watching Die Hard?”

  Jazz’s brows scrunch in concern. “That’s okay, isn’t it? Kingston told me to pick out a Christmas movie.”

  Bent’s lips twitch. “And you think Die Hard is
a Christmas movie?”

  “Uh... yeah,” she says. “It’s like, the Christmas movie.”

  He turns to me. “Dude, if I were you, I’d be at motherfucking Tiffany’s the second they open for business.”

  ***

  “Okay, kiddo, we’re here.”

  “I’m going to take the blindfold off now,” Jazz adds.

  Jazz insisted on covering her sister’s eyes right after we pulled off I-5 into Anaheim, to hold on to the surprise as long as possible. Jazz helps Belle remove the blindfold, just as we’re pulling in front of the Disneyland sign.

  “Look, honey!”

  Belle blinks a few times after the obstruction has been removed and looks to where Jazz is pointing. Her dark chocolate eyes widen, and her face splits into a grin when she figures out where we’re at.

  “Disneyland?!” she screams. “That’s my birthday present?”

  Jazz laughs when Belle squeals. “Yep. We have two whole days and nights to see everything! Do you like it?”

  “I love it!”

  I glance in my rearview and see Belle practically vibrating in her booster seat as I drive around looking for a spot. Thankfully, we’re here early enough that it doesn’t take me too long to find one.

  “What do you want to do first?” I ask.

  “Princesses!” Belle shouts. “I wanna see all the princesses!”

  I turn around in my seat. “Okay, princesses, it is. But before we do that, we have to get your special birthday badge, so everyone knows that you’re an eight-year-old now. We can’t have them thinking you’re still a little seven-year-old.”

  Belle’s head shakes. “No way. I’m way bigger now.”

  Jazz’s tear-filled eyes meet mine. Thank you, she mouths.

  I nod, taking a deep breath in when she smiles. Fuck, she’s beautiful.

  The three of us make our way to the entrance, waiting for our turn at the gates. Once we’re inside the park, Jazz insists on getting tons of pictures in front of the train station, gushing over how cool it is that the floral Mickey Mouse has a Santa hat. After that, we stop at City Hall to get Belle’s birthday pin, and then watch her face light up as the first cast member we see calls her by name and wishes her a happy birthday.

  After checking the schedule, we have an hour to kill before any princess meet and greets begin, so I drag the girls into Fantasyland to get their requisite Mickey ears.

  “Kingston, no, I don’t need one,” Jazz insists when I tell her to pick out a hat. “You’ve already done so much.”

  I bump her shoulder with mine. “You can’t go to Disneyland and not get a set of Mickey ears with your name on it. Everyone knows that, Jazz.”

  Belle points to a pink princess hat, complete with a tiny crown in between the ears. “Yeah, Jazz. Everyone knows that. Duh.”

  Jazz laughs as she retrieves the hat from the shelf. “Okay, okay. Looks like I’m getting a set of Mickey ears.”

  New hats in place, we go through another round of pictures, this time in front of the Walt statue. Jazz insists on getting a selfie with me, and right before I click the button, both girls plant a big kiss on each one of my cheeks.

  Jazz smiles when she sees how well the photo turned out. “That’s my new screensaver.”

  Mine, too.

  She forwards the pic to her phone, and then we’re off to see the princesses. The entire day is filled with lots of squealing from Belle and countless smiles from Jazz, while I simply take it all in. Well, minus that one part when Jazz was trying to hold her lunch in on the teacups. Ainsley and I have had several nannies take us to Disney over the years, but I can’t ever remember having fun like I am now. It almost feels like I’m experiencing it for the first time, through a child’s eyes. We end the evening in front of Sleeping Beauty’s castle, watching the fireworks. Belle falls asleep in my arms about halfway through the show, completely zonked out.

  “How can she possibly sleep through this?” I ask Jazz, dumbfounded.

  She laughs. “Kids, man. They’ll pass out anywhere. When their little bodies are done, they’re done.”

  Jazz loops her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder as we watch the finale. As pyrotechnics light up the sky, it’s almost too easy to forget what we have waiting for us back home. This, right here... I could stay in this moment forever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  JAZZ

  “You are the sweetest, most thoughtful man alive.” I pepper kisses along the length of Kingston’s jaw. “Thank you for such a perfect weekend.”

  He growls when my teeth clamp down on his earlobe. “Fuck, I need inside of you. Keeping it PG for two days straight has been killing me.”

  I pull back with a smile. “All the more reason for us to get extra dirty tonight.”

  Kingston’s eyes glow with excitement. “How dirty?”

  I walk backward, stripping my clothes off along the way. I’m down to nothing but a thong when we reach Kingston’s bedroom, so I turn around and grip the edge of the mattress, bending over. I look over my shoulder and see his lust-drenched gaze devouring every inch of my skin.

  I slowly slide my panties off and kick them away. “You gonna stand there staring all night?”

  “Fuck.” Kingston bites his knuckles. “I don’t know where I want to start first.”

  I wiggle my butt. “Does this give you an idea?”

  One second he’s five feet away, and in the next, Kingston’s large hands are pushing me into the mattress, spreading my ass cheeks. I squeal when I feel his tongue where no tongue has gone before.

  “Soooooo good.” My moans are muffled by the comforter, but there should be no doubt how much I’m enjoying this, based on how enthusiastically I’m pushing back into him.

  Kingston points his tongue and swirls it around while he inserts a finger into my pussy, pumping it in and out. He does this until I feel like I’m going to combust, then he suddenly pulls away and flips onto his back, feet planted on the ground while his upper body is on the mattress between my spread thighs. He swipes his talented tongue through my folds, while the finger that was just inside of me moves to my backside. Kingston's finger presses against the little rosebud while he suctions his lips around my clit and pulls. Right before I fall, he eases that finger inside my ass, pumping it in and out as I ride his face through an orgasm. I tense when he adds a second finger, causing the skin to burn.

  “Relax, baby,” he coos. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good.”

  I breathe through the pinching sensation, and sure enough, as soon as I relax my muscles back there, it no longer hurts. There’s pressure, sure, and it’s a foreign feeling being so full, but it’s not unpleasant. Kingston continues stretching my tight hole as he licks my pussy until I’m screaming through two more orgasms. I’m a boneless heap as he withdraws his fingers and opens the drawer to his nightstand, removing a small bottle of lube, tossing it on the mattress.

  “You sure about this?”

  I arch my spine languidly. “So sure. Although, don’t be concerned if I can’t move all that much. I think you just turned me into Jell-O.”

  He smiles. “Don’t worry, baby, just lie there and let me take care of you.”

  It takes Kingston only a matter of seconds to undress before he’s kneeling on the bed, grabbing the back of my neck and pushing inside of me.

  I moan. “Your aim is usually much better than that.”

  Kingston starts to laugh, but it’s choked off by a groan. “I just need to feel your pussy wrapped around me first. You complaining?”

  I shake my head, as much as his grip will allow, anyway. “Hell no.”

  He slides his other hand under my torso and covers my right breast. “Good. Because I don’t think I could stop right now.”

  “Then, don’t.” I claw the comforter as he deepens the angle.

  I’m not sure how long we go at it, but by the time Kingston pulls out, we’re both a sweaty mess, and the comforter has been pushed off the bed. I shiver when
his tongue trails down my spine. When he reaches my butt, he bites each of my cheeks and gets off the bed.

  I look over my shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”

  Kingston bends over, giving me a perfect view of his ass, making me want to return the biting gesture. When he stands, he’s holding the bottle of lube from earlier.

  “You shoved this off the bed when your arms were flailing about like one of those inflatable tube men.”

  My jaw drops. “My arms were not flailing like an inflatable tube man!”

  His lips curve. “Sure, babe. Whatever you say.”

  I watch as Kingston pops the lid on the bottle and squirts a generous amount on his palm. He fists his erection, sliding his hand up and down until he’s fully lubricated. I hold my breath when he kneels back on the mattress and presses the flared head against my over-sensitized nerves.

  Kingston glides a hand down my back when I tense up. “Breathe, Jazz. If it gets to be too much, just say the word, and I’ll stop.”

  “Move, Kingston.”

  He slips the hand that was on my back beneath me, slowly rubbing circles over my clit. “Rub your clit for me, baby. Just like this.”

  I moan as I take over for him, working that bundle of nerves until I can feel wetness seeping out of me. Kingston takes the hint as I push back into his cock and slowly eases into my ass, cursing under his breath the farther in he goes. I gasp when he reaches the next barrier, feeling impossibly full, but I don’t tell him to stop. Kingston was right; if I just focus on breathing through it, there’s pressure, but not any actual pain. His chest is pressed to my back when he finally holds still, leading me to believe he’s bottomed out.

  Kingston places soft kisses down the side of my neck as I adjust to his length. “You good? The hard part’s over.”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  At first, he slowly moves in and out in short little bursts, getting me used to the foreign feeling. As Kingston’s strokes get longer and faster, he slips two fingers inside my pussy, moving them in time with his dick. His fingers and cock rub against each other through the thin stretch of skin separating them, flooding my body with indescribable bliss. It’s so much to process at once, I almost feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience.

 

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