by Eden O'Neill
KINGPIN: Court University Book 2
Copyright © 2020 by Eden O’Neill
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Art: RBA Designs
Editing: Straight on till Morningside
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Chapter One
Billie
The elegant writing blurred beneath my fingertips, two names.
“You are cordially invited to…”
My teeth gnashed together reading over the calligraphy. All I could do not to shred the wedding invitation in my hands. He’d done it. My dad, a once respected man in our law-abiding community, had finally done it. He was getting married.
And he was doing it with a woman half his age.
Clarise could very well be my sister at her age, and here Dad was embarrassing himself, embarrassing me.
I slammed the mailbox closed, wanting to get out of the slush and ice of the Midwest. I’d just hopped outside to put the trash out, my legs beading in goosebump pimples as I hadn’t even thought to put a coat on. My boots soaked, I stepped delicately over the salted walk, then back into my new house. I’d barely been here three days, and there were still boxes stacked around.
I warmed myself, tossing that invite on the kitchen counter before kicking off my snow boots. The weather had been gratefully clear outside when I moved in, but it was still cold enough where the snow wouldn’t be melting anytime soon. At least my landlord had thought to shovel and salt the walk before I moved in, one of his good tidings in hopes I’d actually buy the place and not just rent. This was a possibility if I liked it, but I hadn’t wanted to make any permanent decisions since I was just a grad student. I’d just needed to get out of my apartment and was totally over roommates this term, too old for it and no patience.
I pushed back my frizzy red hair and made it into the living room, my boyfriend Sinclair on the couch watching some sport. He’d been pretty much a permanent fixture on the red leather love seat all day, how he got when he watched sports. Seeing me, he smiled with his beer in his hand, reaching a hand out and securing my hip. He guided me over to sit with him, and though I wasn’t interested—I loathed any kind of sport—I was happy for the attention. He got really lovey when comfortable, and I liked that, squeezing up beside him under his muscular arm. He hadn’t brought clothes tonight, but I hoped he’d stay. I needed to get off something fierce. It might loosen me up and get me out of my head a little.
Hoping for some of that ease now, I took Sinclair’s beer, chugging the yeasty liquid down in a big gulp. He chuckled, watching me before taking it back, and shaking his head, he got back into his game. His hand gripped my hip again, rubbing it. “You just go outside?”
“Mmhmm,” I said, stealing a swig of his beer again. I chugged it down, then gave it back, and after eyeing the empty bottle, Sinclair slid it on my coffee table.
He lounged back. “I could have gotten you your own, you know?” He jostled, dashing his well-trimmed eyebrows at me. Dark hair and smoldering features, he was a partner now at Huntington, Huntington, and Brewer, his family’s law firm. He’d worked hard to get there too, not much older than me at twenty-eight. Of course, it helped that it was his family’s firm. My boyfriend was legacy. He pinched at my hip. “And since when do you drink anything other than margaritas?”
“Since my dad decided to marry a woman half his age. Excuse me.” I got up to get my own beer, getting another one for him too. I came back with the invite, tossing it on the coffee table, and Sinclair extended his long reach to study it.
“I see,” he said, flicking the thing back where it was before settling himself back into the couch. I returned under his arm after he cracked opened both beers. He drew off his. “You’re still going, though, right?”
I was sure he expected me to, the two of us always two minds about the issue. After all, how many men in his family had trophy wives like my dad? The whole thing was commonplace and not unusual to him at all.
But it was for me, and it wasn’t just the fact that my dad decided to marry one of his colleagues, the woman working at his office when they met. It was the fact that he’d lied about it, cheated on my mom and threw away an over-twenty-year marriage to do it. That’s what grated me about the whole thing, not Clarise’s age.
Annoyed by how much Sinclair wasn’t bothered about the whole thing, I started to get up, but he dragged me back, bigger than me and far more muscular. Sinclair wasn’t a huge man. He had more of a runner’s physique and had done cross country when he went to Woodcreek University. That was his alma mater and where I currently went for my graduate degree. He frowned. “Don’t be upset.”
“But why should I go?” I pouted. “He left Mom and me.”
“It’s not about who left who.” He warmed my arm. “It’s about you being the bigger person in the situation. Not to mention people would talk and you don’t want them talking.”
Ah, the Coventry family image. He was right, of course, people did talk and in both our circles. The Huntingtons tried to avoid scandal just as much as we did, but since my mom and me were already in the thick of it with my dad’s crap, what did I care. And why should I be the bigger person? Dad hurt me, not the other way around. True, he had tried to reach out in the past, but I hadn’t made it easy. Eventually, he realized it was a losing game. Especially after I went to college on the West Coast and put distance between us. Coming home to the Midwest for graduate school hadn’t changed much even though I was back. I imagined it wouldn’t until I was ready to make that happen.
Sinclair folded a hand over my shoulder before bowing my head to kiss the top. We’d dated all throughout his time in law school, our essential meeting at a bar during one of my holiday breaks back home. I didn’t think things would last after that considering we were long distance for a time, but we had. He smiled at me. “I know it sucks. You know my dad left my mom too.”
This was true, but I also knew it ended up working out in the end. His dad had come back. My dad… no, he wasn’t coming back. That wasn’t his way. I thought at first he had just gone for some hot, young tail, but that wasn’t the case when I saw the two of them together. It was like he couldn’t see beyond her.
Like he loved her.
“You know I’ll be there by your side, right? At the wedding and supporting yo
u?” Sinclair assured, and when he flashed that handsome grin of his at me, it was hard to stay mad for too long. He shook me. “You’ll get through this, and like said, I’ll be with you.”
I appreciated that, appreciated him. My body warming, I crawled from the couch and into his lap, my boyfriend chuckling as he was forced to put his arms around me to keep me from falling off the couch.
I kissed his neck, his hand playing with my T-shirt. I wasn’t wearing a bra so my nipples were on fire against the hard panes of his chest.
“Billie…” he husked, a gravelly sigh in his voice. I reached down, going for the remote. I started to turn off his sports, but that’s when he grabbed my hand. He eyed me. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I thought it was obvious.” And sucking on his neck, I straddled him. “I’m clearly trying to have sex with my boyfriend.”
“Mmhmm.” He chuckled again, but my kisses should not be eliciting chuckles. They should be turning him the hell on, but for whatever reason, he was trying to watch the game over my shoulder. Undeterred, I kissed his neck harder, rolling my hips against him, but he pulled me back. He frowned. “You know I’m too old to be coming into work with a hickey on my neck.”
I frowned now. “No, you’re not, and if anything, that’ll just tell your colleagues you got game and please your girlfriend.”
“Or,” he stated, sliding me off his lap entirely. “My brothers will never let me live it down, and my father and uncles will give me shit the entire day. They might not even let me deal with clients, and I wouldn’t blame them. It’s not professional.”
“So having private sex with your girlfriend at her house is not professional?”
“You know that’s not what I meant. I just mean there’s a time and place.”
If at home with just him and me wasn’t that place, then I didn’t know what was. Scoffing, I got up from the couch, deciding to go to bed.
A heavy sigh instantly could be heard from behind me. “Where are you going?”
“Bed,” I called from my bedroom. “I got stuff to do tomorrow too. Classes?” In fact, my first day back. On top of being a student, I was a teaching assistant. I’d have classes as well, priorities just like him.
The less than dulcet sounds of a sports announcer coming from my living room could be heard again before another sigh. “You’re going to be funny about this, right? There’s not much longer on the game. I can come in after? Stay the night?”
Since he didn’t really do that, always pulling an early night to go to work the next day, I sat with the decision. Literally sitting on my bed.
“You’re thinking about it,” came in from the next room, a clear smile in his voice. He had me, and he knew it. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“You better,” I cut, only a little pout before getting changed into a bed shirt and shorts and climbing into bed. His deep chuckle could be heard from the living room as I did, and shaking my head, I lay on the pillow. I waited, my thoughts lulling over my day tomorrow. I tried not to think about the whole situation with my dad and I did well, the soft sounds of the television gently playing in the next room drowning my thoughts out. I closed my eyes but decided to do so only for a moment. Sinclair said he’d be in soon, and he wasn’t getting out of his promise.
Chapter Two
Billie
My house vibrating basically blasted me awake later that night, the room pitch black and a body next to mine.
Groaning, I realized I had slept a lot longer than I meant to, and turning, I noticed Sinclair, hugged up on the opposite side of my bed. He’d fallen asleep too, shirtless and on the other side of my queen bed.
I growled. Had he even tried to wake me up? Shaking my head but too annoyed to do anything about it, I rolled over and curled back up on my end. House music charged through my bedroom like I was in the actual club, and gnashing my teeth, I tossed the blankets off my body. My nearest neighbor was across the street, but apparently that wasn’t far enough away to keep their music out of my bedroom.
I shot up, immediately pressing myself up against the blinds and peering through the window. The nicest property on the block stared back at me, a multi-level, modern style with pewter brick walls and crystal-clear windows. The entire structure had them, a looking glass of colorful lights that strobed across the street and the snow-covered lawn. People were out there too, young people smoking and bearing the cold to do it, and I rolled my eyes. These people would have a party in the middle of January like the day before classes began. Never too soon for undergrads apparently. At least, I assumed that’s who they were.
I hopped back on the bed, nudging Sinclair, and all I got was a pillow plopping over his head. He’d obviously heard the music too but was attempting to ignore it. I nudged him again. “Sinclair?”
“What?”
“You don’t hear that?”
“Of course, I hear it.” His voice muffled, he ripped the pillow off. “Try to ignore it and go back to sleep.”
Ignore that? I could feel that base in my heart. I nudged him again and he groaned.
“Billie. Stop. I gotta work in the morning.”
He’d made that clear when I’d asked, quite reasonably, to be fucked before bed and he’d decided to simply stay the night and ignore me. Frowning, I hopped off the bed, grabbing a pair of socks.
Sinclair growled. “What are you doing?”
I jumped into my socks, basically half awake. By then, Sinclair sat up on his elbows. I cut him a look. “About to go do something about my neighbors since you won’t.”
If he wanted to try to sleep through that racket, fine, but I wasn’t a heavy sleeper nor did I feel I should try. We were both living in this neighborhood and some respect needed to be had. Especially on my neighbor’s end, since outside of my own graduate classes, I was a teaching assistant. I couldn’t afford to lose out on valuable sleep, and upon getting on my socks, I stormed out of the bedroom. By the door, I got my snow boots on. I was so angry I didn’t even bother to backtrack and put a bra on or anything. I simply grabbed my white fleece off the coat rack and opened the door. The chill hit my limbs like a son of a bitch, but I worked the fleece on, then shot out into it. At least, I would have if not for Sinclair.
Tugging me back in, he had nothing but his boxers on, what I assumed he’d chosen to sleep in since he hadn’t brought any clothes to stay over. I assumed eventually, he’d keep some stuff here, but since he didn’t have anything now, that’s what he was wearing. He had his clothes in his arms, giving me a look of death as he pulled me back inside and closed the door.
“I’m going. Fuck,” he cursed, completely disheveled. He wasn’t one to lose his temper but being pulled out of his sleep to wrangle me, he wasn’t too happy. He jumped into his jeans like I did into my socks, working a shirt over of his chiseled frame before grabbing his coat. He shot arms through it before opening the door, and before he could stop me, I followed behind him. I only had on my fleece, a T-shirt underneath, and a pair of sleep shorts so I was damn cold as I sprinted after him. With the heavy music, Sinclair didn’t notice my trailing strides, but the moment I sidled up to him across the street on my neighbor’s big ole lawn, his eyes widened.
He got me by the arm again, tugging me a little too hard to the point where it hurt. “What the hell are you doing? I told you I was going to handle this.”
I jerked my arm away, letting him have that one since he was angry and clearly irritated by the situation at hand. I shrugged. “I figured you could use backup.”
Eyes lifted toward the heavens, his fingers shoved into his hair before he shot a finger across the street. “Go back in the house. I got this.”
“You’re right. You do. But you’re going to have me too.” My teeth chattering, I really wasn’t trying to continue this debate, and I think the only reason he did raise his hands at me was because I was half naked in the snow. Clearly washing his hands of me, he left, and I stalked him all the way past the folks puffing weed on th
e lawn up the steps to the house. Truth be told, I would have rented this property myself had it been available. It was sleek and beautiful, but I signed a lease late and it’d already been taken.
Hands shoved into his jacket pockets, Sinclair faced me. “If you’re here, you keep quiet. I told you I have this handled.”
His warning unusual, I stood there as he rapped against the door. I thought it weird he was knocking. Clearly, these people were having a party, but I guessed formality and all that. There were enough people smoking on the lawn for us to blend in, but I supposed I wouldn’t just want people waltzing into my house. The door breezed open and a wash of alcohol and more weed cut right over me, as well as the guy’s scent who opened the door. A fragrance, woodsy and nature-esque, breezed right over me, a guy who could only be described as a demigod filling the entirety of the door frame.
“Can I help you?” he asked, flicking a toothpick to the side of his mouth. Dark hair and even darker eyes, he pulled his gaze over the two of us, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that housed thighs the size of tree trunks and a shirt he left open for all to see. He had a freakin’ twelve pack. This guy was huge, and he clearly, had no idea why Sinclair and I were standing on his front stoop.
Sinclair wet his lips. “Yes, um. Across the street. Um…” He must have been frazzled like me because he waved his hands a little. He pointed at me. “She lives across the street.”
“Okay.” Ebony dark eyes flicked over to me. He took his toothpick out. “What do you want?”
I started to say something, but apparently Sinclair got his wits back. He dampened his lips again at the guy before staring at me. “She, Billie, my girlfriend, is your new neighbor.”
Apparently curious now, the demigod lounged against the door. He tossed the toothpick outside, then tipped his chin at me. “You here to say hi or…”
“Not exactly.” Sinclair held me back again, and I didn’t understand why. His hand cuffed my arm. “There’s a little bit of a noise issue here.”
