by MJ Prince
“So you should have nothing to worry about with Layla.”
I try not to feel the hope growing inside me at her words.
“Except, Jethro St. Tristan was quite clear about Raph’s betrothal and that hasn’t changed as far as I know,” I reply pointedly.
Keller’s expression turns somber then.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Jazmine. You don’t need me to tell you how complicated and fucking messy this whole thing is. That’s what comes with getting involved with a Dynasty heir …”
Dani’s eyes flicker with something like understanding, and some part of me thinks that must be why she’s taking it slow with Lance, being careful, whereas I’ve been so totally foolish.
“Raph in particular, because he’s the heir to the throne. He’s always had the most pressure on him. But something tells me that if he’s as serious about you as I think he is, then nothing will stop him from being with you.”
I want to believe her, but I can’t quite let myself. I’m reminded of my own warnings to myself back when I still had some sense in me, before Raph’s lips stole that sense away. The warning that I’m way out of my depth with Raph. If I’m honest with myself, I’ll admit that somewhere along the road, I’ve taken a wrong turn—I’ve let myself get involved with a guy who is, in all likelihood, going to break me in two, just like he promised to do that very first day.
My warnings seem to disappear into vapor, though, when Raph rounds the corner, looking sexy as hell in his white shirt, dark grey Regency blazer and black tie. I didn’t think I had a thing for guys in uniform. But clearly, I do. Despite my best efforts, I can’t help but notice how insanely beautiful this guy is. His ash blonde hair, perfectly mussed, his vivid blue eyes, those perfectly chiseled features, coupled with those dimples, could make even a nun leave her calling. He flashes that devastatingly beautiful smile which makes him look like how I think an angel might. Except I know there’s nothing angelic about that wicked mouth of his. Nothing angelic at all.
“Hey, Jaz,” he says, dropping a kiss squarely on my mouth. My face flames, but there isn’t a hint of embarrassment in Raph’s. It’s another thing that makes me believe that there is really more to this. Because far from trying to hide it, he doesn’t seem to care who knows about us. In fact, it almost seems like he wants everyone to know that he’s laid claim on me, that I’m his and his alone.
Baron, who I hadn’t realized was with Raph, makes a gagging sound from behind him.
“Get a room,” he quips.
“No, wait. On second thought, your room is down the hall from mine, so it’s not like that’s any better.”
“Shut up, B,” Raph growls.
Keller and Dani chuckle at that. Baron turns to Dani then.
“Hey, Dani, I hear you’re going to be spending the holidays in my neck of the woods.”
Dani flushes in response.
“Yeah, I’ll be visiting my parents at the workers’ residences.”
“That’s cool,” he replies with a smile.
My eyes travel from Dani to Baron and back again, the cogs in my mind turning. Beside me, I can feel Raph and Keller doing the same thing.
“Anyway, let’s hit the cafeteria. I’m starved,” Baron says, seemingly oblivious.
Raph hangs back as Keller and Dani follow Baron.
“We’ll catch up with you guys,” he says.
Baron rolls his eyes, as does Keller. Dani shoots me a wicked grin.
I turn to Raph, and I see that Dani’s look wasn’t unwarranted. I know that look. Those were definitely bedroom eyes. We’re in the middle of the school day, standing right in the middle of a busy hallway, but I still feel the thrill racing down my spine at that look and the promise within it.
Before I can object, Raph pulls me into an empty classroom and locks the door behind us. I don’t know who makes the first move and it doesn’t even matter, because next thing I know, our lips are crashing together, our tongues intertwined.
Raph lifts me up so that I’m sitting on one of the desks and he positions himself between my legs. I gasp at the feel of his hard length against the center of me, and he lets out that sexy as hell groan as he rolls his hips against the pressure building inside me.
“God, Jaz, I can’t even get through two classes without feeling like I’ll lose my goddamn mind if I don’t get my hands on you,” he says against the skin at my neck. The rawness of his words and the way he growls them into my mouth sends shivers down my spine.
He reaches between us, his hand reaching up underneath my skirt. He growls again in approval at what he finds there. I should be embarrassed at the clear evidence of my arousal, but the need I feel whenever Raph’s lips are on mine, or when his hands are on me, never leave room for anything else but that hunger.
“I love how much you want me, baby,” he says, referring to that evidence, that very damp evidence.
“I want you inside me,” I say unabashedly. A few weeks ago, I’d have been mortified at those words coming out of my mouth. But ever since this thing between us started, I’ve become aware of this whole other side of me. This side that Raph has awakened and only he could invoke in me.
He complies with my plea and his fingers plunge inside me in an instant. My back arches and I claw at his shoulders as I wrap my legs tighter around his waist.
“Oh, god, Jaz, you’re so beautiful when you’re like this.”
He trails kisses along my neck then, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin.
“Your cheeks flushed, your perfect little mouth parted like that. Those fucking beautiful eyes of yours cloudy with how much you want this, how much you want me.”
His words do something to me, because every single one of them are true. If there was a mirror in here right now, I’m sure that’s exactly what I’d see.
I don’t know what makes me say these next words. Maybe it was something to do with Keller’s words earlier or just the fact that I can never get enough of Raph, and how much I want him.
“I meant that I want you inside me for real, Raph,” I whisper.
I feel a shudder roll through his body and he lets out a tortured groan, which is a good sign. But his hand stills completely. In fact, his entire body seems to lock up.
The sensations raging through my body are abruptly cut off as Raph steps away from me. I try not to jump to conclusions, but I can’t help but feel stung.
Raph is a picture of conflict. His jaw is working and his eyes darken with some emotion that’s almost frightening in its intensity.
“Don’t—don’t you want to?” I ask, although I kick myself for sounding so pathetic, for being so pathetic. God, here I am just another foolish girl offering herself up on a plate to Raphael St. Tristan. In an empty classroom no less—real classy. Except he doesn’t seem to be into it. Not at all.
Heat flashes in his eyes and as quick as lightning, he takes my face in his hands. His lips meet mine, but this time the kiss is achingly tender, like that reverent kiss he gave me that night after coming back from Rockford Cape.
The kiss makes me feel like he’s reaching right inside my chest and squeezing the beating muscle inside. It’s that powerful. Every doubt, every question is swept from my mind. At least just for that moment. Because this isn’t just any kiss. You wouldn’t kiss someone like this who you were just screwing with—kissing with lust, desire, hunger? Yes. But not like this. This kiss means something and I feel that meaning wrap itself around my heart.
When he pulls away, his eyes are as dark as midnight, as he touches his forehead to mine.
“God, you have no idea how much I want to be inside you,” he says, and his words send a delicious thrill along my skin.
“I want to be inside you so bad, that I can’t even think straight half the time, and when we’re lying in that bed of yours, my body on yours … it takes everything I have, every last bit of self-control to stop myself from burying myself deep inside you.”
I gasp at the intensity of the words, be
cause although I did sense the effort he had to exert at controlling himself all those times, hearing him say it out loud is entirely different.
He sees the question in my eyes and saves me from having to ask it.
“But I want to wait until you’re ready. Really ready.”
His answer floors me and I feel like I can’t breathe for a second.
“Trust me, my dick hates me for it, but I …”
He trails off and I suddenly get that feeling again that I’m teetering on the edge of a cliff, but this time, I feel like he’s there next to me.
He doesn’t finish the sentence, though. What he says instead is enough. At least for now.
“It’s never been like this for me, Jaz. You think I’ve done this a thousand times before, but I haven’t—not like this. I don’t want to mess this up. I’m so goddamn terrified of messing this up.”
He looks uncertain, shy almost, in a way that’s so at odds with his usual air of confidence. That uncertainty does something to me and I reach out for him then, kissing him with more emotion than is safe for me, letting him inside me in another way, which I know is far, far more dangerous.
30
I manage to get through the rest of the final week of the semester without insecurity rearing its ugly head again. But of course, it had to wait until the last day of semester to appear.
“Hey, Jazmine, how’s it going?”
I turn from my locker to see Devon stop in front of me as he passes by.
Other than seeing him in calculus, I haven’t really spoken to him since that night of the Fall Ball. He hasn’t brought up going out again in any of those brief conversations in class, and he hasn’t tried to text or call. I’m certain it has everything to do with Raph’s less than subtle exhibitions of the claim that he’s staked on me and of course, god only knows what kind of warnings Raph’s been doling out to his team in the locker rooms. Because every time a member of the soccer team passes me, they fix their eyes directly on the floor, as if they’re scared out of their minds that they’ll turn to stone if they so much as look at me the wrong way or just scared out of their minds of Raph more likely.
“Hi, I’m good, you?” I reply politely.
Devon fidgets for a moment and suddenly I feel awkward. Because part of me does feel bad about agreeing to go with him to that party after the Gramercie game and to the Fall Ball, when my mind was on Raph. But I was in denial back then and Raph had made it clear he didn’t want me. In hindsight, I should’ve known that it couldn’t have turned out any other way between Raph and me. That from that first moment on the beach, we were headed on a collision course right into each other’s arms. As wrong as that might be.
“I’m okay,” Devon replies, and the awkwardness dissipates as we talk about class and the holidays. I’d forgotten how easy going and nice Devon is. Although I didn’t really get a chance to get to know him that well, it must’ve been part of the reason why I, for a moment, thought that I might want to.
“Anyway, I should get going. But it was nice talking to you. It got kind of awkward back then after the Fall Ball, but you’re a great girl, Jazmine, I hope we can be friends,” he says finally.
“Sure,” I reply casually. “I’m glad we got a chance to catch up, too,” I add honestly. “I wanted to speak to you after the Fall Ball to explain things, but I thought you’d be mad at me, you know because of what happened afterwards with Raph …” I trail off and kick myself for mentioning it.
Devon’s expression falters for a second, but he flashes another easy smile.
“Don’t worry about it. I knew what I was getting myself into. I kind of suspected there was more to it between you guys, even if nothing was going on at the time. I mean Raph wouldn’t just go around warning every guy in school off a girl unless he’s wanting to stake his claim.”
I feel a surprising warmth at those words, because it reminds me that whatever it is that Raph feels for me, it goes further back than I had let myself acknowledge.
Devon seems to be deciding on whether to say something, and I eye him curiously.
“Take care of yourself, Jazmine. Like I said, you’re a nice girl—too good to be Raph’s latest slam piece.”
There’s no malice in his words, just genuine, friendly concern. But the words are crude all the same, and I feel sick at the thought.
Is that what everyone in school thinks of me? Raph’s latest slam piece? I don’t usually give a crap about what other people think, but I can’t deny that the label stings. More so than the outcast label he’d slapped on me that first day I walked on campus. In fact, I’d trade this label for that one in a heartbeat.
I realize how naïve I’ve been. As much as I try to deny it, I like Raph’s public displays of affection, the unabashed way he stops to kiss me in the middle of a crowded hallway or in the cafeteria, not caring who’s looking. I thought it was his way of showing everyone that he doesn’t care who knows about us. But all its showing people is that I’m Raph’s latest piece on the side in what is a sickeningly long line of girls. Of course, everyone here knows that Raph is still betrothed to Layla and that any other girl is just his entertainment on the side. But she’s his queen. Always has been, always will be.
I tell myself to calm down, though, because I’m jumping to conclusions here. I remind myself of those moments when Raph and I are alone and he’s looking at me as if … as if I’m the only person in the entire universe that matters. I remind myself of the way he kisses me, that tells me there’s so much more to this thing between us than just lust. If that’s all he wants from me, he wouldn’t be waiting until I’m ready to have sex, he’d have made that move already and no matter how much I try to deny it, I know deep down that I’m in so deep with him, that I would have let him. Hell, I offered it to him on a plate just a couple of days ago and still he wants to wait.
But the doubts don’t disappear entirely, because I also still remember what Raph told me before our first kiss—that none of this could ever really matter. With all that has happened since, the passion burning away my reason, the hunger blinding me to reality, I seem to have forgotten the cold hard truth, or at least shoved it aside whenever it reared its ugly head, like I’m trying to do right this very minute.
I’m saved from having to say anything because I feel Raph’s presence behind me. He fixes that icy glare on Devon, the one that he fixed on me that very first day on the beach, the one that reminds me what we were to each other back then and perhaps what we should have kept being, if either of us had any sense.
“Hey, Raph.”
“Devon,” Raph replies coolly.
Devon gets the message.
“See you, Jaz,” he says, as he begins backing away. “Take care of yourself,” he says again, referring back to what he said earlier. He doesn’t have to. The words are emblazoned in my mind.
But I don’t let any of those insecurities show in my face as I turn to Raph. I stiffen a little when he kisses me lightly. But thankfully, not enough for Raph to sense that something’s wrong.
“What did Devon want?” he asks, point blank. His possessiveness would be endearing, if it wasn’t for the fact that Devon’s earlier words are still ringing in my mind. Four words in particular—Raph’s latest slam piece.
“Nothing. He just wanted to catch up,” I reply casually.
Some part of me wants to confront him right here and now about this latest label. But another part of me is telling me that I shouldn’t care what other people think of what’s happening between us, as long as Raph and I know the truth about what we are to each other. And what is that exactly? The cruel voice in the back of my mind whispers. But I shove it aside because the middle of a school hallway is not the time and the place to be having this conversation.
“So what, you two are best friends now?” Raph, however, doesn’t seem to be so concerned about causing a scene.
It’s not the first time Raph’s acted jealous. Hell, he starts growling at Baron like a caveman whenever he
finds us hanging out together in the kitchen some mornings. As much as I try to deny it, I usually like the feeling that he cares enough to get jealous. But right now, it just pisses me off. Because who the hell is he to get jealous when the list of girls that he’s been with is probably longer than Santa’s freaking Christmas list and I’ve only ever been with one guy—him. Only him. Plus, there’s the fact that he’s still betrothed. As in promised to marry someone else.
This time, I can’t keep the frown from my face, but Raph interprets it as me being pissed about his cave man ways.
He lets out a long breath.
“Sorry, Jaz. You know I can’t think straight whenever any other asshole gets within two feet of you.”
He pulls a face of exaggerated repentance, which makes me laugh, despite my mood. God, I must be demented.
“So, you’re the only asshole who gets to come near me?” I keep my tone light, but the words aren’t exactly a joke.
“Hell, yes,” he replies, throwing an arm around my shoulders as we walk out of the main building. “Because I’m your asshole.”
I don’t want those words to mean anything, but I’m stupid and foolish, so they do. I still haven’t forgotten about Devon’s words. I know that Raph and I are going to need to have this conversation, but that same foolish part of me delays the inevitable.
And as he leans down to touch his lips against mine again, I don’t feel like talking at all.
“And you’re mine, Jaz,” he murmurs against my lips. “All mine.”
The words wrap themselves around me and just for that moment, I let myself believe it.
I’m rummaging in the fridge for a snack when I hear the front doors open. The guys all have an end of semester soccer meeting, so I expect to see Keller or Ivy walk in. Layla has a useful knack of avoiding me when I’m downstairs, although I don’t miss her death stares at school.
Unfortunately, Layla’s avoidance tactic doesn’t seem to be working today, because it’s she who walks in through those doors.