Broken Trust : Pacific Prep

by R. A. Smyth

  A sudden noise from the gym next door has me snapping my head up. I quickly duck to the corner of the pool, hoping in the dim lighting I won't be noticed. I barely breathe as I listen for any signs of someone coming this way.

  The door to the pool bangs open and Beck storms into the room, looking just as pissed off with the world as I imagine I did when I first arrived.

  Reaching behind his back, his large bicep flexes as he grabs his shirt, pulling it over his head in a sexy-as-fuck move that has me drooling. My mouth is suddenly parched as his sculpted torso is revealed to me. I’ve spent weeks wondering what he’s hiding underneath his fancy waistcoats. I thought he looked pretty damn fine earlier in his t-shirt, but, hot damn. Naked, he’s a mouth-watering masterpiece of perfection. He’s got a panty-melting swimmer’s body—all lean with sharp edges. A firm chest, with a sprinkling of dark-colored chest hair, gives way to a prominent six pack just begging for a girl to run her tongue over. My eyes follow the faint outline of a treasure trail down to the lining of his swimming trunks, which sit snugly on narrow hips and wrap around his muscular thighs.

  Throwing his shirt carelessly behind him, he plunges into the water in what I imagine is a perfect dive. There’s barely a splash as his body is submerged, gliding smoothly through the water.

  He doesn’t come up for air until he’s halfway across the Olympic-sized swimming pool, his arms moving in synchrony, rising out of the water, one at a time in a perfect arch, propelling him forward.

  I watch in awe as he reaches the shallow end of the pool, doing some fancy flip under the water before kicking off the side with his feet and gliding effortlessly back to where he started. Back and forth he goes, never faltering or slowing as he swims from one end to the other. I can't do anything but hide there and gawk at him, mesmerized as he moves like an unstoppable machine through the water.

  After several lengths, he must feel my gaze on him, as he stops mid-stride, his gaze jumping about the room until he finds me lurking in the corner of the pool like a common stalker.

  “What the—” he breathes, squinting to see who would be creeping about in the pool this late at night.

  Taking a small step forward so I'm not hidden in the shadows, I try to swallow around my suddenly dry throat.

  “Hadley?”

  “Sorry, ” I begin, “I, uh, needed to clear my head. I didn't think anyone would be here.”

  He doesn't say anything as he swims toward me, stopping when we're a few feet apart.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” I breathe out, my automatic response to fob him off coming out before I've even thought about the question. “No…I don't know.” I give a small chuckle. “It’s been a crappy day. I…” I trail off, the words getting stuck at the back of my throat. I want to tell him about today, about Hawk, but I’m fucking shit at telling anybody anything. It doesn’t come naturally to me, and apparently, it’s harder than I thought to just blurt out stuff about yourself.

  “I’m a mess,” I eventually admit. Not what I want to say, but fuck if it’s not the truth.

  His eyes roam over my face, taking me in, likely seeing for himself how true those words are. My eyes still feel puffy from earlier, and despite trying to fix my mask back in place after running away from Hawk, it no longer fits quite right.

  “You are far from a mess.” His words take me by surprise. He listens to the whining, superficial problems of teenagers all day. I’m pretty sure I’m the most complex case he has. “You're the embodiment of strength...I don't know what you've been through,” he murmurs, trailing a finger along an old scar on my collarbone, making me aware of how close we've drifted as he towers over me in the water. “But I can tell you're a survivor. Your scars? Your pain? They only make you more beautiful.”

  I swallow around the lump in my throat, my heaving chest only inches from his, my stomach a riot of butterflies as I watch rivulets of water trail over his pecs and down his abs. I've thought about this moment for months now, wondered what would happen if we were alone like this.

  “I’ve wanted you from the moment you stepped into my office,” he murmurs. His voice barely more than a whisper, the gravel tone scraping under my skin, igniting my nerves.

  Tilting my head back, I look up into his eyes, seeing his usual bright moss green irises darkened with lust. “I don’t do this. I don’t seduce students, but I just can’t seem to stop myself with you.”

  “So don’t,” I whisper the words so quietly I’m not sure he even hears me. He gazes into my eyes for a moment longer before his hands slide around my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair as he angles me just perfectly. His lips hover over mine, both of us savoring this moment before everything changes.

  Unable to hold back any longer, his lips descend; moving slowly, teasingly, against my own. My eyes drift shut as my body lights up, his kiss like a thousand volts of electricity, making me feel alive.

  I open beneath him, moaning as he sweeps his tongue into my mouth, our tongues sliding over one another in the most delicious kiss. He unhurriedly explores my mouth, driving me wild as he takes his time getting to know every part of me, memorizing my reactions to his every touch.

  We drift closer until our chests are pressed up against each other, my arms winding around his shoulders, my fingers running through the small hairs at the back of his neck.

  Using the buoyancy of the water, I wrap my legs around his hips, seating myself in his lap, relishing the feel of his hard length pressing against my core.

  His hands stroke their way down my body, roaming over my back and sides until he grabs a handful of my ass cheeks in each palm, groaning as he realizes I'm completely naked. Tugging me in closer to him, he grinds against me.

  “Beck,” I murmur, tearing my lips from his as my head falls back, granting him access to my neck. His lips feather across my skin as he licks and nibbles his way down my throat and across my collarbone. Every light touch has me panting harder, grinding against him, needy for more.

  I want nothing more than to pull down his trunks, wrap my fingers around his cock and slide myself down his length, but he needs to be the one to take control here. He has to make that move. After all, he’s the one risking everything right now.

  His hand slips down between our bodies, his fingers deftly sweeping over my clit before sinking inside of me. I’m so wet, he meets no resistance. I don’t need any working up at all—more than fucking ready for him.

  “Fuck,” he groans. “You feel so good. You taste so sweet. I need to be inside you.” He hesitates before sheepishly adding, “I don’t have, uh, a condom.”

  “I’m covered.”

  I’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s pulling down his trunks, his pink, veiny, erect dick springing free. I reach down between us, wrap my hand around him, angling him at my entrance as I sink down on top of him, and gasp while I adjust to him. He’s got a slight bend that rubs perfectly against my G-spot, eliciting a dirty moan from the back of my throat as he seats himself deep within me.

  “Fuck,” he hisses between gritted teeth, his hands tightening around my hips, leaving half-moon fingernail marks in my skin.

  I can’t do anything but wrap myself around him tighter as he begins to move. With every thrust, he hits that perfect spot, and I cry out, quickly rushing toward oblivion as I meet him move for move.

  My fingernails dig into his back, leaving scratch marks as I lose myself in the feel of him pounding into me.

  “Beck,” I cry out, feeling that familiar, intense uncoiling in my lower abdomen. I can feel him swelling within me, close to coming himself as his thrusts turn erratic.

  I fall over the edge as his cum hits my inner walls, both of us collapsing into one another, our chests rising in symphony together. He loosens his grip on my hip, wrapping his arms around me as he lazily kisses me, his tongue tangling with mine in slow, lavish strokes, both of us catching our breaths and coming back to reality, but still refusing to leave this little perfect bubb
le we’ve created for ourselves.

  “You’re incredible,” he murmurs between kisses. “I want to see you again. I want to get to know you, to spend time with you.”

  “You mean an hour a week isn’t enough?” I joke.

  His voice is serious when he responds, “Not even close.”

  Eventually we pull ourselves apart, climbing out of the pool and re-dressing. He even gives me his towel to dry off with so I don’t have to attempt to pull my jeans on over wet skin. With one final passionate kiss, he watches as I take off back toward the girls’ dorms, replaying over in my mind the unexpected end to this bizarre day.

  Chapter 29

  The next day, excitement is in the air as parents and drivers arrive and everyone gets ready to leave for two weeks. Everyone except me, apparently.

  I thought even some of the scholarship students would stay behind—not that any of them talk to me—but nope. It’s just going to be me and an empty campus. That’s not creepy at all.

  On the plus side, with no one around, I should have plenty of opportunity to sneak out to see Beck. My cheeks turn red just thinking about him and what we did in the pool last night. I swear, I’m not going to be able to keep a straight face at Cam’s next swim meet.

  The thought of him swimming through our juices, nearly has me bursting out in laughter. I hope he accidentally swallows some pool water. It would be exactly what he deserves.

  Most of the students seem to be gone, the halls eerily quiet as I make my way through the school. Rounding a corner, I come to an abrupt halt when I find Beck and West at the far end of the corridor. That in itself isn’t necessarily strange, but the dark scowl on West’s face is surprising. He only ever looks like that when he’s with the other Pricks, and they're making a stand in front of the entire school. Even then, I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he’s looking at Beck. It’s similar to the way Hawk looked at me yesterday, disgust and vehement hate written all over his face. What issue could he possibly have with Beck to instill such violent emotions?

  “Don’t fucking bother. I don’t want anything to do with you,” West snarls before storming off. Beck watches him leave, running a hand through his usually perfectly in place hair. Sighing heavily, he shakes his head before following West, the two of them disappearing out of sight.

  What the hell was that all about?

  For the next three days, I focus on completing the mountain of homework they gave us to do over the break. It’s strangely peaceful having the whole place to myself, eating alone in the dining hall, being the only one in the library; however after several days of solitude, I’m officially bored. I tell myself the desire to talk to another human being is the reason I’m standing outside his door, but if I’m being honest with myself, I just want to see him again.

  Despite how opposed I was to this whole counseling thing—and still am—I’ve found solitude in this room over the last few weeks, found comfort and safety in Beck’s presence. Growing up always on alert, never knowing where the next danger will come from or when the next hit will strike, that’s saying something.

  Unsure if he will even be here—it is Christmas break after all, I’m sure he has better things to do—I rap my knuckles on the door, turning the handle, and actually surprised to find the door opens when I push on it.

  “Hadley,” Beck says with pleasant surprise, an easy smile on his face as his eyes drink me in. I’m wearing jeans and a tank top, but he obviously didn’t get the memo that no one else is here, as he’s dressed in his usual attire of preppy waistcoat and chinos—not that it matters. He clearly looks hot in anything.

  “Hey.” My reply is much more awkward and uncertain as I step into the room, closing the door quietly behind me. “I, uh, wasn’t sure how to get in touch with you, so I figured I’d see if you were here.”

  “You hunted me down?” There are laugh lines around his eyes as his smile stretches wider.

  Rolling my eyes, I retort, “I was bored,” as I move to sit in the chair in front of his desk, bringing my knees up in front of me.

  “Well, we can’t have that now.” He leans forward in his seat, his arms resting on the desk as he continues to watch me. “I’ll give you my number, you can text or call me anytime.”

  Biting my lip, I nod my head. My heart is racing, smashing against my chest, and my palms are sweaty. I don’t even understand why I’m so nervous. I’ve never been like this around him before.

  “I can see your thoughts running a mile a minute. What are you thinking about?”

  “I...What are we doing?”

  His lazy smile is back as he gets up and circles around the table, coming to stand in front of me, perching on the edge of the desk.

  “I believe they call it dating.” He still looks like he’s enjoying himself way too much at my expense, as I shake my head.

  “I don’t know how to do that. I’ve never…” I trail off, my unsaid words hanging between us. How pathetic is it that I’ve never gone out with anyone before, never been on a date with a guy?

  “Hey,” he soothes, crouching down in front of me. “We don’t need to put a label on it. We’ll just do us—go at whatever speed you want, do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

  I stare into his deep green eyes that easily ensnare me, holding me captive, giving him the opportunity to really see me; see all the insecure, fucked-up parts of me I keep carefully locked away.

  “What if I’m bad at it?” The words are barely more than a whisper and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so exposed, so vulnerable, not even when that stupid video was going around.

  He reaches out, tucking a stray bit of hair behind my ear, running his fingers through the messy strands.

  “I don’t, for one second, believe you will be. I was captivated from the minute you stormed in here, full of fire and quick wit. It had nothing to do with what you’ve been through. It was just you, your inner strength, your tenacious ability to thrive when anyone else would crumble. The hour I spend with you is the highlight of my week.”

  “You must have a very boring life, if that’s the case,” I grumble, deflecting him away from the heat in my cheeks and the fluttering feeling in my chest that I can’t place.

  A slow smile makes its way across his face. “I’m pretty sure I could spend my free time skydiving and base jumping, and I’d still say you were the best part of my week.”

  Fucking hell, he’s trying to kill me with sweet sentiments.

  Leaning forward, I lower my legs, planting my feet on either side of him as I bend down and kiss him. Not wasting a second, his hand slides around to the back of my head, holding me to him as our tongues dance together, affirming every sweet word he just said to me.

  He untangles his hand from my hair, slipping his hands beneath my thighs and lifting me up, making me wrap my legs around his waist. I feel him growing hard as I am pressed against him, neither one of us breaking the kiss as he carries me over to the sofa, dropping down onto it so I’m straddling him.

  Before we can get too carried away, he pulls back. “We’ve gone about this all backward,” he breathes. “I want us to do it right.”

  “Are you saying no to sex?” I tease, nipping on his earlobe before kissing down his neck, loving the feel of his fingers digging into the flesh on my hips.

  “I’m definitely not saying that,” he growls. “God, all the dirty things I want to do to you right now.” I can hear the strain in his voice as he holds himself back, and, as much as I want him to do exactly that, I want him to be comfortable in this thing between us, too. He’s already assured me we can go at my pace, but I want him to enjoy this, and if he wants to do it ‘the right way’, then who am I to stop him?

  Pulling back, creating a bit of distance between us so I can actually work through my hormone-addled thoughts, I look him in the eye. “How do we go about doing that?”

  “We start by getting to know each other.” He must feel me tense in his lap because his hands start rubbing soothing circles
up and down my back. “Nothing big, nothing you don’t want to share. We’ll start with the small, simple stuff.” He’s got no idea that nothing about me is simple, and what he’s asking is much harder than he thinks it is. Yet, I find myself giving him a hesitant nod.

  The pride in his eyes at that one small concession almost makes it worthwhile, but it doesn’t calm the thudding in my chest or the nervous flutter in my stomach.

  Pulling me in closer, he lies back on the sofa, taking me with him so I’m lying on top of him, my head resting on his chest. When he doesn’t immediately start firing off questions, I slowly relax, kicking off my boots and entangling my legs with his as I get comfy. His fingers dip beneath my top, drawing lazy circles on my hip, while his other arm is bent at the elbow, with his hand resting underneath his head.

  Holy hell, why have I never done this before? There’s something to be said for just lying with a guy, feeling the steady thrumming of his heart beneath your palm, feeling his body pressed up against yours. It’s calming, stabilizing, reassuring. I never knew I could feel this way with another person. Any time I tried to picture doing crap like this with a guy, it always looked awkward and uncomfortable. I could easily fall asleep on him, and I’m pretty sure it would be the best damn nap I’ve ever had.

  I’m lying half-asleep on top of him, when I feel him move, his lips kissing the top of my head in a strangely sweet gesture that has every girly part of me squealing in delight. I have to bury my head in his shirt to hide the stupid grin on my face.

  “What’s your favorite color?” he murmurs, the question taking me by surprise. Okay, that I can easily answer.

  “Umm, blue, I guess, but like a deep, rich blue-green color, like teal.”