by Dakota Lee
Those full lips parted, gasping for air. Her eyes wide with fear. He squeezed too hard. But that's because he's never played like that before. I would've made sure not to leave a mark. My dick stirs to life, finally, but the timer on my phone indicates it’s time to go.
I step away, noting the hostess is a few strokes short of coming apart.
"You're leaving?" She pants.
"Sorry, your break is over. We'll have to finish this another time."
Chapter Eleven
Kassidy's standing in the doorway of my bedroom, wiggling her perfectly arched brows and twirling her imaginary mustache like a vaudeville villain. Her eyes dance with excitement and mischief.
"Whatever it is, roomie, the answer is no."
"You should at least let me get the question out first."
"Fine. Ask it."
"We're going to a party."
"In that case, the answer is hell no."
"What's your excuse this time? Washing your hair?”
"How about the truth? The people you like to party with hate me. And I'm not too fond of them either. Booze and bitches are a disaster in the making."
"They're not that bad."
I give her a look that says, bitch please, and she amends her statement. "Okay, so Bella and her posse are annoying, but not everyone at that party is out to get you. There are plenty of decent people on campus. Besides, hiding out in the dorms is exactly what Bella wants from you. Don't give it to her."
Kassidy has been a great roommate so far, but she'll never understand the pressure I'm under to succeed in the short amount of time I'm going to be here.
"I need to study and work on my submission for the art symposium and auction committee. You go and have fun without me."
She walks over to my desk and pulls my pencil from my hand. "Let me give you prep school reason number 101 why you need to come out with me tonight. Stop thinking of it as a party and more like a networking opportunity. Only without the classical music, or Sinatra standards."
She grabs my shoulders, turning me to face her. "We're only young once. This is our excuse for acting irresponsibly and letting off steam."
"Do you get a commission for encouraging students to attend? If so, you should negotiate a higher price."
She laughs good-naturedly. "I told you when you showed up here, that I won't let you fall behind. I meant in school and in life. So come on toots, get showered and dressed."
Two hours later, we're off campus heading towards the hills. When we reach our destination, Kassidy pulls up behind a Lykan HyperSport. There are cars parked side by side and end to end of the massive driveway. It looks like a showroom at a high end dealership. I follow her through the open doors gawking at the Varnished and Gilt-Bronze Cut- Glass Chandelier suspended from the vaulted ceilings in the foyer. The only reason I know what it is, is because mom had a client who insisted on having one from the Baron de Rede collection last month. "Who's place is this?"
"Don't know. Don't care. We just show up wherever the text message tells us to."
I never received a text message, so I'm forced to accept her answer and her warning not to ask any more questions about it. I can tell she's serious when she says not knowing is safer for all of us.
She stays glued to my side through my first drink, before wandering off to dance. Then comes back after the third song and drags me to the bathroom. "You never go to the bathroom alone. Got it? If you have to go, you come drag me off the floor."
Okay. That's not ominous. We weave through bodies littered across the house and finally reach a bathroom. I guard the door and when Kassidy's done; I take the opportunity to use it myself. Our trip back to the main part of the house is slower. A door opens and a couple stumbles into the hall. She's pulling down her skirt, and he's still tucking his junk back into his pants. I feel like my head is on fire, like Ghost Rider.
We all reach the game room around the same time. The girl walks over to the pool table and plants a kiss on a guy wearing a white and blue striped polo shirt. He grips her ass, hoisting her onto the table, and wastes no time stepping between her legs. She moans and pants, pulling his shirt up and wrapping her legs around his waist. They're humping on the table like they’re the only ones in the room. I avert my gaze, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing.
"Didn't that girl just come out of that other room with that guy?" I point to the guy standing up against the wall with a beer in his hand.
Kassidy grabs my hand dragging me to a new room. "Yup. Welcome to your first official swap night at Van der Borne University. They don't call it VDU for nothing."
"That's disgusting."
"Yes, but you'll never convince them of that."
Chapter Twelve
Someone throws a party on any day of the week around here. Sometimes we're the first to show up. Sometimes, we're the last to arrive. Then other times we won't make an appearance at all. My friends and I always present a united front to the student body, because it makes it easier to maintain control. As the head of the school, I set the tone for each event. I’m loved and loathed and one false move can bring everything I built crushing down around me. Nobody says it, but everyone secretly covets the title of King of VDU.
It's swap night. VDU's equivalent of an extreme heatwave or full moon. It's the one night a month where you don't have to lie about blacking out when you get caught in a threesome with your boyfriend’s roommate or older brother. It's a night of anything goes, no questions asked. An all access pass to be as freaky as you want without consequences.
You have to plan in advance and be strategic about who you're fucking. Speed is of the essence if you've set your sights on more than one conquest. No guilt, no judgment, and it's one of the nights we see the highest turnout. We always take swap night off campus because it doesn't just break the school’s moral bylaws, it flirts with some ethical ones as well.
Tonight, we're using Tabitha's house to hold the event. I can't remember the last time I saw either of her parents at any of their homes. Her dad spends his time in NYC and LA, and her mom’s been on vacation for ten out of the last eleven months.
I let out a satisfying groan as I drain my bladder. The girls come to swap night with a warning to never come to the bathrooms alone. That's because this place has great acoustics and horny males like to listen to their conquests scream in stereo. It's sort of an unwritten rule: if you're in here alone, it's because you're ready to be fucked.
The door opens as I'm washing my hands. A dark ponytail swings as the newcomer turns to lock the door. When she turns back around, her eyes widen in surprise and an “oh shit” tumbles from her lips. My dick perks up at the sound. Now that's unexpected, and wholly unwelcome.
"I. I'm sorry. I didn't realize anyone was in here."
I re-lather and wash my hands again, even though I cleaned them well enough the first time.
She points to the sink. "Are you almost done?"
"Why? You need my hands free for something else?"
"I need to use the bathroom."
"I'm not stopping you from doing that."
I shut off the water, taking an exaggerated amount of time to dry my hands. She's afraid to look at the models in class, I doubt she's comfortable enough to pull her pants down while I'm in here. Still, it's fun to see her struggle with what to say and do next.
"Forget it." She huffs.
I stop her hasty retreat, pushing the door closed, and caging her body between me and it.
"What are you doing?" Her question comes out as a strangled gasp.
I've been watching her. A week ago Bella was gloating at her triumph. No one had seen Jordanna outside of her classes, and I was almost sure she'd stay in hiding. But she's here. Tonight. The one place everyone knows Bella would be.
"Why do you find it so hard to run the other way when Bella's around?"
She glares at me over her shoulder. “Because I'm not scared of your wretched girlfriend."
I stiffen at the assumption. Everyo
ne assumes. "Girlfriend isn't the term I give to any woman." I pick up the silky strands of her ponytail, wrap them around my fist and tug, bringing them to my nose.
"Don't touch me." She hisses, her voice laced with a hint of discomfort.
The demand has the opposite effect of what she wants. I move closer, spinning her around to face me, amused by the look of indignation on her face. Most girls would love to have me crowding their space. She’s looking around like she's ready to crawl through the air vents to get away from me.
"What are you doing?" She asks when I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me.
"I just want to remind you of the rules."
Her voice trembles slightly when she asks, "What rules?"
Maybe no one told her. That would explain this devil may care attitude she's carrying around campus, though I'd expect Kassidy to have explained the way things work around here by now.
"Rule number one. This is our school, we're just letting you visit, until the time comes when we're ready to send you back to whatever mediocre existence you came from. Rule number two. No matter what you see. No matter what you hear." I press my thumb against her bottom lip. "You keep your mouth shut."
She swats at my hand. "I said don't touch me."
My body reacts to her attempts to get away. Fuck, it's been months since I've taken part in a swap night and five minutes in the bathroom with this girl makes me want to jump in. It gets complicated when I screw somebody I've hooked up with before, and dangerous to bang a new piece of ass who hasn't been properly vetted. She's still trying to get away, this time moving her lower body to the side to escape my growing erection.
I'm an ass. I press against her, decreasing the space between us, and lower my head; barely brushing my lips against her ear. She gasps at the contact, drawing my attention to her mouth. I lean closer, her lips millimeters away from mine. If either of us moves, our lips will graze in a kiss. She continues to fight for an inch of space, sending another wave of heat to my cock.
"Careful Jordy. The more you fight, the harder it gets."
She goes completely still. Thank fuck. It gives me a moment to get my reaction under control. I step away, readjusting my dick. Making eye contact with her while I do it makes me hard all over again. Her face is flushed, her breathing ragged. Her eyes look down, then away. God, she's so fucking uncomfortable with sexuality, what the hell is she doing at this party?
"I'd offer to pull it out so you can paint it, but we both know you wouldn't be able to do it justice." I flick my eyes to her hands. "Then again, maybe a more hands on approach is what you need."
Her eyes snap to mine, and the blush of embarrassment turns to fury. "You're disgusting."
I chuckle, leaving her in the bathroom seething behind me. Forget the vetting process. I point to a sophomore I recognize from one of our beach house parties last year. She's all too happy to follow me to an empty corner. Shauna sees us and walks over, along with one of her friends. The three of them keep my attention up to the point where they start fighting over who gets to suck me off first. I give them a better alternative. They can play nice with each other and let me watch.
Chapter Thirteen
I'm a loyal girlfriend, and for as long as Robbie and I have been together, I never once thought about hooking up with someone else. So, how did I wind up in a bathroom with Logan, thinking about how it would feel to kiss him? Especially when his hand on my chin was bruising, his words were shaming and nothing in his demeanor screamed friendly.
It's like the concept of personal space is lost on him and his friends. But there I was, trapped against the door with the darkened soul of a monster looking at me, with his obvious erection poking into my belly, enjoying my discomfort. Then after his crude comment about giving him a hand job, he had not one, not two, but three women clawing at him in a corner.
I wasn't trying to stare, he just happened to be in my line of sight when I came out of the bathroom. The bastard had the nerve to wink at me. Is it wrong to hope he catches something?
It's been too long. I need to see my boyfriend. He'd never lock me in a bathroom and offer to pull his dick out for me to paint. Thank God for manners and respect. Basic concepts the beautiful people here are sorely lacking.
The crushing ache I get every time I think of my friends and Robbie creeps in. I dial his number even though I should be studying. I'm drifting through these days and I just want to feel grounded. Connected. The call goes to voice mail, so I dial my mother. Even her special brand of passive aggressiveness is preferable to the looming dread I feel about meeting my study group at the cafe.
"Hi, honey. I was just thinking about you. How's school?"
"Oh, you know. Educational. How are things at home?"
"Well, I'm swamped at work, but it's good to be busy after sitting home all these years, you know? And Summer's doing great. You know when she finds that sweet spot on the court it's nothing but net, so the other booster club mother's are happy to include me in their bake sales and car washes."
Mom and Summer never have any trouble fitting in. Sports automatically make Summer popular and my mother is an interior designer, although she's just rejoining the workforce. They have those qualities that draw people to them. Me, I have my art, which draws a different type of attention. Plus, I'm an introvert at heart. Robbie, Marina, and Tiffany drew me out of that shell. Being here makes me wanna crawl back in it.
I listen as my mother tells me her plans for decorating a beach house and I wish I could see how it turns out. The color palette sounds whimsical and free. She's where I get my artistic side from. Summer's athleticism is from our dad. The ache of loneliness is replaced by the debilitating sorrow I feel about losing my dad.
Fucking drunk drivers. It's why I only drink in moderation and why I think one drink is too many to get behind the wheel. It's also why I have a fear of driving. I have a license, but I'll bus and train it everywhere just to avoid having to be in control of a car. The therapist I used to see said it's an irrational fear. I told her, it's rational when your dad was on his way to pick you up from school and was killed while operating one.
I end the call with my mother, feeling better now that I've spoken to someone who knows me and loves me. School work can wait. I grab my dorm key, slip my phone in my pocket, and sling the strap of my portfolio over my shoulder. Noel said he'd look at my work. I think I'll take him up on that offer.
The path to the art and humanities building is one of the most well lit places on campus. The students hold night time art exhibits outside and the lighting spotlights specific places along the walkway. The last alcove towards the building has no such illumination. It's dark and secluded and I get a chill listening to my footsteps echoing on the concrete. An additional sound sends a tingle down my spine. I slow to a stop, straining my ears. Bloody hell. Is everyone on this campus so horny they just tear into each other no matter where they are? Outside the building. For real?
The guy grunts, the girl moans, and I’m frozen listening to the sounds. "Why'd you stop?" She coos.
"I think we've got company." He calls out, "Whoever's out there, I bet Nanette won't mind if you join."
My spine stiffens. I recognize the voice. Nanette giggles her agreement. "That's right. I'm always up for a party."
The sound of their voices is enough to snap me out of my fog. With all the screwing he's doing, when does he have time to study? And can I double down on the VD wish?
Chapter Fourteen
To call Bella territorial is an understatement. I give her a lot of leeway because as long as she's playing her games with other people, I can focus on my sculpting and the paper. Most of the time she sticks to tormenting people at parties and sporting events.
Nobody goes out of their way to get on her bad side, and even the freshman feel her sphere of influence before they ever step foot on campus. That's the way it's been for her for as long as she can remember. Which is why she's been telling me for the last twenty minutes that Jordanna's
behavior is so unacceptable. I thought she handled that when she told everyone about Jordanna's stepfather.
"Sounds like she's getting under your skin. Is it because her hair is so bouncy and shiny? Her tits are rounder and perkier? Or because her ass is screaming for a man to fill it?"
I made those observations at last weekend's party. I made it through swap night untouched, but the need to get off didn't go away, so I used Nanette's mouth to blow my load the other night.
"Fuck you Logan, I'm not jealous of that twit. Vandi U has a reputation to uphold. She's the chancellor's latest outreach project, and we all agreed when they revamped the scholarship program that we wouldn't support anyone who doesn't fit in. You see her, and you know she doesn't belong here."
This is getting old. "Bella, if you don't like it. Do something about it."
Feigned sweetness replaces the disdain in her voice. "I'm working on it, but I need help."
Great. She's about to make a pitch on how we can speed up Jordanna's ousting from campus. Most of the time I sit around watching my friends play their games. I like having a front-row seat to the fallout, but it's been a while since I've actually gotten my hands dirty. The bets are getting redundant and have lost their appeal. For me to even consider getting involved, what the other person is offering has to be comparable to what I'd have to offer, and that's the measure of it.
There's only one thing anyone ever wants me to bet. The VP position at dad's company. So they band together and try to think up these ridiculous stunts that they're sure I'll have no way of winning. I'm not ruled by my ego and have no problem saying no. But sometimes, just to inspire them, I say yes. I've always succeeded at whatever they've thrown at me, and haven't let them pull me into a bet since spring of last year.