The Elites Of Weis-Jameson Prep Academy: The Complete Series (A High School Enemies To Lovers Bully Romance Box Set)

by Rebel Hart

  “Oh god, Emmett,” I moan in the aftermath of my pleasure, yanking his head out from between my legs and writhing across the bed, begging for him to finally move over me. Any orgasm from him is earth-shattering, but nothing compares to the feeling of him moving inside of me.

  He growls as he eases himself inside, bringing his fingers back to my clit as he pushes and pulls against my tight and pulsing muscles. I realize this is our third time together, and I must be getting more comfortable with him, because for once my excitement overrides any anxiety I might have felt before. I am so tight around his hardness that every thrust, combined with his stroking fingers against my folds, makes me feel like I will cum again instantly.

  “Cum for me, baby,” he commands, giving me permission to fall into another roaring orgasm.

  He stays inside of me as I cum on his cock before he crashes over my quivering body, pressing his bare chest to mine as he slows down.

  “I don’t ever want anyone else to know you like this,” he groans into my ear. “This is just for me.” His hands slide across my body as he moves inside slowly, but deep enough to drive me crazy with pleasure.

  “I don’t want anyone else,” I whimper against his neck, knowing in that moment that I’ve never said anything truer.

  His head rears back suddenly as his pace quickens and he looks me boldly in the eyes with an almost threatening stare. “Promise me,” he bellows. “Promise you belong to me.”

  He thrusts harder as he stares expectantly, needing me to devote myself entirely to him.

  “Only you,” I assure him breathlessly, not feeling a moment’s hesitation as he pounds into me harder, pushing me to an edge of sensation I’ve never felt before.

  He straightens and pulls my legs to his shoulders, angling himself into me and stroking all of the perfect places, moving faster with building need. I don’t think it’s possible to cum again so soon, but as he moans my name in his own mounting pleasure, I crash over the edge yet again. He collapses across me again, pushing so deep into me I’d expect it to hurt, but it only makes me cum harder as he releases at the same time.

  He lingers inside of me, slowly gliding back and forth to draw our orgasms out to the last possible second. He milks every ounce of pleasure we can get from it, moving so slowly I think I might die. Finally, we are too sensitive to keep going and his head crashes to my shoulder.

  We lay in still silence for a long time as I stroke my fingers through his hair, cradling him against my naked body. I lean my head around to see if he’s asleep, but his eyes are still open and glistening in the dim lamplight. He looks content, with a gentle grin settled into the corner of his mouth. I don’t think I have ever seen him look so peaceful.

  I bunch up the cheap comforter in my hand, watching the paisley pattern of it melt together. It’s made up of the ugliest shades of maroon, emerald, and white, with touches of mustard yellow. It’s also itchy and feels grimy. But I’m still lying here, wrapped up in it without a care in the world. My desire for Emmett makes me forget about these kinds of things for a moment. I forget where we are and how gross this room is. It all falls away before my need for him. Everything seems to fall away when I am face to face with him, maybe to a point of being unhealthy.

  “Third time’s the charm, I guess,” I giggle after a while, breaking our quiet trance.

  His head bolts up with an almost panicked look. “It wasn’t good the first two times?” he frets with a pained smile.

  The way his plump pink lips curl into a grin, matching the devilish spark in his eyes, is one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen. Emmett’s intensity is sexy and alluring, but this calmer, more playful side of him is new and even more attractive. I want to see more of it. I want to see him as just a normal teenage boy. The yearning for it makes me more determined than ever to help him find Bernadette. Hopefully she is safe and can come home soon so we can move forward.

  “No, every time has been perfect!” I insist as a blush creeps across my cheeks. “But you know…you made me cum three times in a row.” His cheeks light up with a proud smile as he leans in for a kiss. I want to ask him so many questions about how much experience he’s had or the kinds of things he’s done. But I am almost afraid to know the answers. “No guy has ever made me cum before you. Much less three times in a row.” The smile quickly leaves his face as he stands and puts on his boxers.

  “Something wrong?” I ask in alarm at his sudden change.

  “I don’t want to hear about you being with other guys,” he grumbles.

  “Jeez, you are so possessive,” I hiss through my teeth, not realizing my remark would be so offensive. I playfully trail my toes across his chest, hoping to lure him back down into bed. “It was supposed to be a compliment.”

  I’m hoping he’ll lighten up and smile again, but instead he drops to a seat at the edge of the bed next to my legs. His head drops as he runs his hands through his hair with a long exhale.

  “I’m sorry, Ophelia.” His voice cracks with remorse.

  “It’s no big deal,” I assure him. “Just come back and lay down with me a little longer before you have to take me home.”

  “No, I mean…I’m sorry for everything,” he persists. “I don’t mean to be the way that I am. I just…I’ve never known anything different.”

  “What do you mean?” I straighten, realizing this is much deeper than awkward pillow talk.

  “My dad was just so…awful. At least towards me. In ways Bernadette never saw,” he explains with a pained expression. “I want to be different. I want to be better for you. I’m trying…I just…” He trails off and buries his face to his hands.

  “Hey…” I coo, rushing to his side to wrap my arms around him with a flurry of kisses across his back. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay,” he insists firmly. “You deserve better.”

  I am speechless, knowing I have said those words to him too many times to try and take them back now. I thought them on the way here, and with our track record, I may be thinking them again in a couple of days. But in this moment, I feel more confident than ever that what Emmett has been telling me this entire time is true. He’s not some sick monster out to manipulate me at every turn to get what he wants. He’s not even acting purely on whatever this primal connection is between us. He has a good heart beneath all of his issues, and has genuine feelings for me.

  “Everything’s just been so messed up,” I murmur against his bare shoulder, wishing I knew exactly what to say to make things better. “Maybe one day we’ll have a chance to just be normal kids together. Having a good time. Maybe then things will be easier. Different.”

  “No, Ophelia,” he says with a startling certainty. “Things will never be easy with me. Not with my life and the cards I’ve been dealt. Even if Bernadette is okay, I still have Jameson resting on my shoulders.”

  I think about insisting that he can run away from it all. Choose his own life that has nothing to do with the burden of his father’s legacy. But what could I really know about his life? I didn’t grow up wealthy, knowing that I would one day inherit the company my hometown depends on more than anything.

  “Then I don’t want easy,” I offer, as I crash back down onto the bed, hoping he will follow.

  His head perks up. “What?”

  “Fuck easy,” I answer loudly. “Easy is boring.”

  He eases across the bed, sprawling out beside me. “You should have easy,” he says softly, caressing my cheek with his thumb before pressing it into my bottom lip firmly, as if it’s a gentle reminder of the beast inside of him.

  “I said I don’t want it,” I fire back. “I want you.”

  His lips crash across mine as a tear falls down my cheek. I’m terrified, but I mean every word I say. As much as I long for the simple life I once knew, I ended up here in Emmett’s arms instead. Getting here may have been a nightmare, but somehow, we came out on the other side still mad for each other.

  “I love you,” he whispers sudde
nly into my ear, causing my entire body to tense up and swell with a gasp. He pulls back and studies my reaction.

  I can’t remember if he has ever said those words to me before, I only know that if he has it was unconvincing. Anything he has said until now felt like a ploy to rope me back in, to keep me where he wanted me. This is the first time it has ever sounded real and sincere, to the point that he might as well have never said it until now.

  “What did you say?” I gape in disbelief.

  “I love you, Ophelia,” he says again, setting my heart back into an intense pounding.

  The sound of those words and my name on his lips has to be one of the most forceful things I have ever heard. I can feel them emanating through my entire body.

  “I love you,” I barely manage to say back through my chest, tight with excitement.

  I’d always imagined love was something permanent. Something that may change or fade, but could never fully go away. To say you love someone is to bind yourself to that person for life. Even if you are no longer with them, they will always be one of the important people in your heart. Someone you loved. The concept feels heavy to me, and I am scared for a moment to think about being attached to Emmett in that way. But the feeling swells in my heart and I know I have no choice. I do love him, whether I want to or not.

  We kiss and talk, buying as much time as we possibly can. Playing songs for each other on our phones. Emmett may not be easy, but for a little while we forget about everything waiting for us outside. We even forget that we’re locked up in a shitty motel room outside of town. I check my phone every so often for the time, until finally I know we can’t stay any longer.

  “You better take me home,” I tell him reluctantly. “My mom will start to worry soon, and…”

  “I know,” he cuts me off, not needing a reminder of why she is so suspicious of him. “Okay,” he adds with a heavy sigh. “Come on, let’s get going.”

  I don’t want this night to end as I slide back into my clothes, and I half-consider telling him to sneak into my bedroom window after we get back. I hate the idea of him driving all the way back out here and sleeping alone, and I need to be close to him right now. But I stop myself. Everything has been so perfect; I don’t want to risk ruining it by pushing our luck.

  “Hey, can I pick you up for school tomorrow?” he asks as we gather our things and head for the door. “Early. I was hoping you could come with me to take care of something before school.”

  “Sure.” I shrug without giving it another thought. I’m too high on my feelings for him and his lingering scent on my body, which only intensifies as we step out into the crisp night air.

  I almost fall asleep on the drive back to my house, but his hand keeps moving across my thighs inching up dangerously far and reawakening my desire for him. It doesn’t seem possible to want more of him, but I do. By the time we reach my house, I am eager to kiss him and toy with how far we can get in my driveway before I have to go inside, but it’s already late and I can see the heaviness in his tired eyes.

  “You sure you’ll be okay to drive back?” I ask with concern, curling a strand of his hair around my finger.

  “I’ll be fine,” he assures me.

  I lean in for one final kiss before giggling into his cheek. “Hey, say it again.”

  “Say what again?” I raise my eyebrows and look into his sparkling eyes as he realizes what I’m asking for. “I love you,” he says breathlessly, before biting and kissing across my neck.

  I finally pull myself from his arms and force myself from his car. He watches me walk to the door with a big smile, and I can’t wait to see him again in the morning. I practically float up the stairs to my bedroom and crash onto my bed, still wishing he could be lying next to me.

  For everything that has been wrong between us, tonight has been perfect. And it was all I needed to know, without a doubt, that Emmett and I are meant for each other.

  Chapter Seven

  BOOK 2

  The next morning, Emmett picks me up as promised, but reality quickly sinks in with the new day. My euphoric high from the night before has been dissipated by a string of the nightmares that still plague me regularly. As much as I want to throw myself into trusting and loving Emmett fully, the reality is that I have been traumatized during my time at WJ Prep and he’s not entirely without blame for that.

  It’s the beating drum of my heart that only Emmett can conjure. He makes me feel fearless and terrified all at once. I wonder if I could just dive head first into this, never fearing or doubting anything, if things could be better. Maybe it’s my own doubt that will destroy us.

  I try to swallow down my renewed wariness of him, hoping that the moment I see him again it will all fade away. I notice my mom peering at him through the curtains as I’m heading for the front door.

  “You okay?” I ask casually, as I swing my bag across my shoulders and zip up my hoodie.

  “You two are spending an awful lot of time together again,” she remarks suspiciously as she suspends the blinds between her fingers, eyeing his car in the driveway.

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” I assure her. “I know you didn’t have the best first impression of him, but he’s not a bad guy.”

  She looks to me with a haunting expression, as if she can instinctively see straight through to all of the doubts inside me. But she quickly softens with a half-smile. “I hope you’re right,” she says softly, before pulling me in for a hug.

  “See you later,” I answer quickly, pulling away to run to the warmth of Emmett’s car. He tries to lean over and kiss me the moment I get in, but I can still feel my mother’s eyes on us, so I stiffen under his touch. “Let’s go,” I urge him. “My mom is on high alert right now.”

  He nods as he looks back at her through the window and quickly puts the car in reverse. “Thanks for coming with me this morning,” he offers as we drive off through my neighborhood.

  “What are we doing anyway?” I ask as I fumble for my seatbelt.

  “I was thinking I should look in Bernadette’s room,” he explains. “Maybe see what’s in her diary. I just didn’t want to go back to the house alone.” He spreads his hand across my knee with a tight squeeze.

  I’m half-relieved that we’re focusing on Bernadette again. That’s all I was supposed to be in this for when he first came to me, and things somehow quickly spiraled back into the throes of our relationship. At least now I know his sister’s claimed disappearance wasn’t just some scheme to rope me back in, and his willingness to finally go through her things lessens some of my suspicions about him in this ordeal—and will hopefully return some of my feelings from the night before.

  “Are you still adamant about not going to the cops?” I ask once again, reflecting on how many days she’s been missing at this point.

  “Not until I know more,” he replies grimly. “Mom is still against it.”

  It’s hard not to be distracted by his scent as we go. One whiff of his cologne sends me into a haze of memories from our recent encounters, last night’s especially. I hate how easy it is for me to be distracted by my lust for him, even while we’re playing detectives for his missing sister. Maybe we’re both eager to cling to sex as an escape.

  Emmett flashes me a strange grin as we pull up to his family’s manor, which makes me wonder if he was just thinking the same thing I was. But the grinding gears of the car going into park snaps us back to the task at hand.

  Their ornate, blackened-iron fence towers above me, bringing back chilling memories. We walk down the long, circular driveway and around the fountain at its center as sprinklers sputter mist across the perfectly green, manicured lawn.

  I try to avoid the vivid images flashing before my eyes of my father showing up on their doorstep as we walk through the entryway. I was running for my life and ended up face-to-face with him just before he shot Emmett’s dad. I guess not every girl my age could say they watched their dad murder someone, especially not their boyfriend’s father.
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  The Jameson manor is decorated in dark mahoganies, olive greens, and deep burgundies. The smells of Thomas Jameson still linger from his office. Scotch and cigars. Everything is dark and ominous and old. Not just old, but old and expensive. It’s the kind of lavishness that makes you feel afraid to move, always afraid of what thing you might accidentally stain or break that’s worth than your house.

  The foyer has high vaulted ceilings with gold patterns sprawling across them to the start of the crown molding, with a large crystal chandelier in the center of the room that reflects dancing lights across the room, all the way up to the spiral staircase that leads to the hall where Emmett’s room is. Every room of the house is filled with expensive art and draperies, antique furniture and linens.

  Things only feel more surreal as we walk through the mansion halls I was once held captive in. Emmett leads me to Bernadette’s room, which I hadn’t seen when I was here before. I’m surprised by how far it is down the hall from Emmett’s, but I guess the distant quarters explain how everyone in this family managed to be so different from one another.

  The size of the room is somewhat surprising, though I guess it shouldn’t be considering the immensity of the house. Her large king bed rests along the center wall, made up with luxurious bedding.

  “I guess we know she didn’t vanish too suddenly if the bed was made,” I offer, trailing my hand across the soft comforter.

  “Maids,” he reminds me bluntly, making me feel stupid.

  Emmett digs through her tidy nightstand, pulling out a red leather journal with a pen still attached to the outside. He sits on the corner of the bed and begins flipping through the pages as I look around the room. Everything is perfectly clean and in place, just as in Emmett’s room. Nothing like my chaotic, messy bedroom. I think it must be a relief to live in such an orderly space without ever having to clean it yourself, but something about it feels too stark. And knowing some of their family secrets, I don’t know if it’s a worthy trade.