by J. L. Beck
Chapter One
Hero
I tap the pencil on the notepad so furiously, it’s about to give way and break in half. Where is this stupid tutor girl? I glance down at my phone to check the time. Fifteen past six. She was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. Every minute I sit here, it makes me more irritated, more impatient.
This small room with its bare walls reminds me too much of the prison cells I spent the last seven years in. The seconds tick by slow. The walls feel like they’re closing in around me—inching toward me like they are about to swallow me whole.
Not only am I one of the oldest students here, but also one of the dumbest. Thanks to the lack of proper education the justice system provided me with, I could barely pass my classes.
If it hadn’t been Mom’s wish for me to go to college, I would get up, walk my happy ass right off campus, and never look back.
I’m not here to make friends or kiss ass. Half the things I’ve seen and done, these assholes wouldn't be able to handle.
Death. Murder. Pain. Grief. These people have no idea the shit-balls life could throw at you.
The door handle to the room jiggles, and I sneer at it. I should just get up and walk out of here. I'm sure the girl isn't going to be coming anyway.
“Hi! I’m so sorry. I got lost, then…”
The words I intended to speak pause in thin air. All my irritation and anger disappears, replaced with something else—something I've never felt before.
It’s an emotion I can’t quite pinpoint. Instead of focusing on it, I take in the tiny woman before me.
She has fragile features, soft, doll-like. Coal black lashes frame her big blue eyes, and those eyes…fuck, they’re fixated on mine, beckoning me onward. Her coffee-colored hair is braided over one shoulder. It looks soft. I want to run my fingers through it.
What the fuck? I shove the thought away. My gaze drops to her full lips, half parted with whatever words she’d planned to say.
She isn't wearing a speck of makeup. Her clothes aren't eye-catching and don't show off her body, but damn…she is perfect.
“I—I’m sorry…” Her creamy white cheeks grow pink with embarrassment.
“You’re late,” I announce gruffly, as if she didn't already know this.
She sighs, visibly trying to calm herself.
I’ve been through enough shit to know when someone is on the verge of a panic attack. The look in her doe eyes tells me she’s close.
“Please don't tell anyone. I need this job. I really, really do.” Tears form in those orbs, and the anguish in her voice tells me she isn't lying.
Fuck! This isn't what I need right now. I’m not in a good place, and the moment I open my mouth, I know I'll ask her what the hell her story is and how I can help her...and that's just not what I need.
Shutting my brain down, I let my dick talk for me. “Calm down. You can make it up to me, baby. I promise I won’t tell anybody. All you need to do is come over here and kiss me.”
Her eyes go impossibly wide at my request. “K-Kiss y-you?” she stutters, staring at me like I just asked her to get on her knees and give me a blow job.
Shit. The image of her sucking me off invades my mind, making it hard to think about anything but her plum, angel-like lips around my cock. Shifting in my seat, I try to ignore how uncomfortably hard my dick is pushing against the zipper of my jeans, begging for me to let him come out to play. “So, what will it be? Kiss me or possibly lose your job?” I know I’m being an unreasonable asshole, but it's hard to be anything else when that's what I’ve been for so long.
She inches forward, like a newborn deer taking its first steps. Her legs seem so wobbly and unsure. For a moment, I think she might fall, and prepare myself to catch her.
Never breaking eye contact, she makes it all the way in front of my chair without falling over her own two feet. She clenches the strap of her backpack so tight, her knuckles turn white and her hand quivers.
Fear shines prominent in her eyes, but there’s also curiosity and excitement. I hold my hand out to her, and she looks down at it in wonder. Her fingers ease up on the strap before she lets her backpack slide down her shoulder and drop to the floor.
Her small, shaking hand reaches for mine. The second her soft hand touches my much larger, rougher one, her trembling subsides. I gently pull her down into my lap, and her leg brushes against my hardened dick, almost making me come in my pants.
Her pink cheeks turn into a fiery crimson when she feels the effect she has on me. My cock presses firmly against her thigh, but I don’t care. I have no plans of hiding how she makes my body feel.
Her free hand lands on my shoulder as if it belongs there, and I realize it does.
She belongs to me. She is mine.
The words are foreign to me. I’ve never claimed a woman before, and I'm not sure how to feel about it.
My nostrils tingle as I inhale her sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon. The aroma is something I already know will be forever embedded into my mind, always reminding me of this tiny little creature in front of me.
“I…” she starts.
I hold my finger up to her lips, silencing her. “Shhh. Just kiss me,” I order.
I don’t think she’s even blinked since I’ve asked her for a kiss. Part of me wonders if she’s going to go through with it. She closes her eyes, and I take in every tiny detail of her perfect features. Her long, dark lashes fan across her unblemished skin, and she adorably puckers her lips just slightly as she inches toward me.
She’s so fucking adorable, I feel like an even bigger asshole for making her do this. But my selfish needs outweigh my moral code—something that’s partially broken anyway. I want to keep my eyes open, not wanting to miss a second of seeing her, but once her lips touch mine, I’m no longer able to do so.
Her lips graze mine, hesitant. She kisses with a softness that tells me one thing: she’s innocent. My eyes flutter closed, and my brain ceases to work. The world could have stopped spinning, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
My pulse pounds in my ears, and I fist the soft fabric of her shirt. She’s tiny, so fucking tiny, and it breaks down all my walls. The urge to devour, protect, and secure her consumes me, but I reign it in. I’m not the kind of man for someone like her. I’m a broken bastard, hardened by prison and life. I’m also selfish, and feelings aren’t something I can spare right now.
She softly moans into my mouth, and a zing of excitement slams into my dick. Her lips are soft, so fucking soft, so I press mine greedily against hers, eating up her moans and gasps. I release her shirt and work my way up her body until I’m cradling her face in my hands. It only takes a second for her to realize how wild this could get. She pulls away, a flustered expression marring her beautiful features.
Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound fills the small room. Without thought, she jumps off my lap and scurries back a few feet, clutching her backpack to her chest, looking at me like I stole her innocence.
It’s irritating as fuck. She’s the one who jumped in my lap and kissed me. “Don’t look at me like I killed your fucking dog. I kissed you, and from the way you pawed at me, I doubt you didn’t want it,” I growl in frustration, a cross between need and anger spiraling out of control.
She flinches, her eyes going wide as she pulls her phone out of her backpack and disables the annoying beep. With unsteady hands, she gets out her books and lays them on the table next to my notepad. She opens them, turning to a page.
I know she is talking, probably about whatever she is supposed to tutor me in, but I can’t ta
ke my eyes off her. Her angelic voice reaches my ears, but I can’t make out the words.
I don’t know how much time passes. Could be a minute or an hour. I’m suddenly pulled out of my trance when the door swings open and a scrawny, dark-haired kid appears in the doorway.
“Hey, are you Elyse? My tutor?” he asks, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
Nerd. What the fuck does he need a tutor for? The fact that the fucker said her name hits me. Elyse? I let her name roll off my tongue.
It didn’t even occur to me to ask her for her name, not even when I was kissing the living daylights out of her.
“Yes, yes I am.” She smiles, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. It’s fake, and a look I’m sure she’s given many times. “We were just finishing up.” She turns her attention back to me briefly, pointing to her book. “You got all of this?”
I almost laugh. She can’t possibly think I heard a single word she said. I didn’t get a fucking thing from that book.
Shaking my head, I watch her swallow hard and can’t help but imagine her swallowing something else. Fuck me. I need to get out of here and get her out of my head before this whimsical siren becomes the death of me.
I shove away from the table and stand to grab my still-empty notepad before rushing out of the room and slamming the door shut behind me. I make it exactly three steps down the hall when the thought of her being alone in that room with another guy brings me to a halt.
It's unsettling how much this little waif of a woman affects me.
Gritting my teeth, I do what every sane man would and walk right back to the door I just came from, positioning myself in front of it. I sigh, leaning my shoulder against the door. I’m close enough to hear them talking inside, and that comforts me.
Time seems to stand still. I know what I’m doing is wrong. I don’t know this girl. I don’t know a damn thing about her, but I want to—and that’s enough to keep me planted right where I am.
Waiting. Listening. Watching.
Chapter Two
Elyse
I barely make it through the next tutoring session. My mind is still reeling, my lips tingle, and my heart is doing somersaults in my chest. I’m all out of sorts—because of him. Hero. That can’t really be his name, right? Questions swirled inside my head. Who is he? Why did he ask me to kiss him?
What just occurred between us was strange…like a chemical reaction—one I want to happen again and again. I try hard to focus on Lenny and the questions he’s asking me, but I can’t, and it’s frustrating. I need this job and the money it offers to keep going to school.
“Are you listening to anything I’m saying, Elyse?” Lenny sounds annoyed. When I look up from the textbook, his expression confirms it.
“Uh, yes—I’m sorry.” My cheeks heat.
“Hey…” Lenny gives me a reassuring smile, “it’s okay. We can pick up where we left off later. I’ve got some stuff I need to do today, okay?”
I don’t want to end our session, not when we still have thirty minutes left, but I’m on edge. I can’t hear, can’t breathe—everything feels all out of sorts. “Okay.” I sigh. “I’m sorry, though. Truly. I don’t know what is going on with me today,” I lie. It has everything to do with that Hero guy. He’s tall, dark, and handsome, with an edge of danger—everything my parents would hate.
Lenny packs up his stuff, and I follow suit. I can still taste the kiss of Hero’s lips on mine. Can still feel the warmth of his muscled body. I’ve never been kissed before, but even with my non-existing experience, I know what we shared is more.
Lenny turns the door handle, pulling it open, and a body crashes into the room. I stumble back to avoid being smashed.
When I realize it’s Hero, I lick my lips and gaze up at him.
He’s so brooding. Dark, coal black hair as unruly as his attitude. His eyes are a soft green, that give away nothing. He’s lean but built. I wonder just what it’d feel like if I took my fingers and ran them under his shirt.
Shaking his head, Lenny pushes past Hero and I with a grumbling, “Thank you.”
I want to shout for Lenny, tell him not to leave me alone with Hero again, but the words never come out. My thoughts shift as I feel Hero’s heated gaze on my skin.
What the hell is he still doing here? Was he waiting for me?
His gaze is so intense, it has me in a trance, and I can’t help but look up at him.
“Are you afraid of me?” His voice is low, sinister even.
My mouth goes dry, as if someone just shoved an entire bag of cotton balls in it, making it impossible for me to speak. Not that I could if I wanted to. What am I supposed to say? I’d never in my entire life had an encounter with a man, and now, I’m having a complete out-of-body experience with one.
Finally getting up the courage to speak, I drop my gaze to the floor. “Should I be?” I don’t want to look at him when he tells me yes, because even I can feel it—the danger, the anger. It rolls off him and slams into me like waves against the shoreline.
“I don’t know yet... What I do know is I’m intrigued by you.”
Intrigued? What does that mean? My roommate has talked numerous times about men wanting to sleep with her, but I’d never heard her say something about them being intrigued by her. I’m a nobody, so him being interested is surprising.
My head pounds. The entire situation is something I can’t quite grasp onto. Hero is intense—far too intense for me. I need to walk away from him, need to put some distance between us.
“I want to see you again, and I know the perfect insurance to be sure I will.”
My eyebrows furrow as he leans into my body, casting a dark shadow over me. His scent of cinnamon and wood tickles my nose. “Of course you’ll see me again. I-I’m your t-tutor,” I stutter, trying to keep the conversation casual. I’ve already spent way too much time in this man’s company. If my father were here, he’d be picking up the bible to pray for him.
Hero smiles, and it’s real, heartfelt even—it takes my breath away.
“I don’t want to see you just between the four walls of that room, Elyse. I want to see you...like really see you.”
His words vibrate through me, frightening me and exciting me all at once. I’ve never dated an honest to god man so I’m not sure what’s expected of me. Do I agree? Disagree? Where I come from, women do as they're told, when they're told. Choices are not something given to us, so having a choice in this matter confuses me.
After a minute of eerie silence and intense staring, I force my legs to move forward. I step around him, fully expecting him to stop me, but he doesn’t. I walk away faster than usual, knowing he’s watching me leave. I can feel his eyes inside me, rattling me to the core.
I make it back to my dorm in record time. Taking two steps at a time, I turn and all but run to my door. I unlock it and walk inside before shutting it behind me, my lungs expanding for the first time in hours as I suck in precious oxygen.
“Hey you.”
A loud shriek escapes my throat before I see Tasha, my roommate, sitting on her bed.
She raises an eyebrow.
“Sorry. I didn’t see you there,” I manage to get out, my hand clutching my chest. If I make it through this day without dying, I’ll be shocked.
“Are you okay? You look like you might’ve seen Channing Tatum running around campus,” she jokes.
Tasha knows about my family, so she understands me better than anyone here. But that doesn’t mean I want to tell her about Hero.
“I’m fine. I was just in a rush to get back here,” I say, knowing Tasha can see straight through my lie. She doesn’t let me sugarcoat anything and lying in general is hard for me.
She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t push. Thank goodness for that.
“Tonight, I’m taking little miss innocent to her first college party.”
I blink slow, trying to comprehend what I just heard. “Did you just say party? Like the kind with drinking and boys?”
Tasha nods,
a grin on her face.
“Yeah, I think I’ll just stay here where it’s safe.”
Tasha stands with both hands on her hips, giving a look that says oh no you don’t.
Compared to Tasha, I don’t stand a chance. She’s beauty and brains—a blonde bombshell with killer legs and even better body, so when she smiles, it seems like the sun is coming out. She shines light on even the worst moments, and from what I’ve seen, makes the best of everything.
“Safe?” She giggles. “Our dorm room isn’t safe, girlfriend. If you won’t come with me, I’ll just bring the party to you.”
I move away from the door and carry my bag over to the couch. Our dorm is small, with a tiny little kitchen and even smaller bathroom. It’s a tight living space, but it’s home, and it’s mine…well, and Tasha’s.
“No…” I shake my head. “I’ll just go with you. If I don’t and something happens to you, I’ll feel guilty.”
Tasha moves from where she’s standing and comes over by me.
In her eyes, I see concern, and truthfully, I don’t want to address it.
“You need this, Elyse. You really do. Maybe you don’t think so, but it’s important. All your life, you’ve lived under the rules of your father. Now, there are no rules. Now, you can do what and who you want.” She winks.
I purse my lips. “I am not going to sleep with anyone. Not now, tomorrow, or ever. No one is interested in me.” Except Hero. But I don’t say that part out loud. The less Tasha knows about him, the better.
“No one is interested because they don’t even know you exist. Put on a sexy outfit, let me do your makeup and hair, and we can bring the sex to you.”
I cringe at the word. “No, Tasha. I don’t want sex.” Even saying it feels weird. Sex in my family is something you don’t do ’til you’re married—and you definitely don’t sleep with anyone but your husband after that.
My father would probably have a stroke if he found out what took place behind the scenes at college.
“Everyone wants sex, and I mean everyone,” she whispers, dragging me toward her closet.