by Sofia Daniel
In the blue, strobe light, I couldn’t tell if it was paisley, the swirls of an antique mirror, or both. My tongue darted out to lick my lips, and I swallowed to stop myself from salivating at the sight.
Tattoos adorned his arms. The design was so intricate, I could only make out a few details. An image of Salvador Dali, one of Queen Elizabeth’s face in front of the Union Jack. I think I spotted Oscar Wilde, but Maxwell twisted around, obscuring my view.
The face of a vampire took up his entire stomach, its features twisting over Maxwell’s six-pack abs. The vampire’s tongue pointed down from his bellybutton to the waistband of his pants.
I tried not to imagine what other tattoos dwelled beneath the leather. Tried not to picture a long, thick penis, covered in ink, but the effort was futile.
His full lips spread into a grin. “See something you like?”
“Your tats are great,” I said without thinking. “Although the rest of you is shit.”
“Are you alright?” Lachlan strolled up to me with Gideon at his side.
Maxwell’s eyes widened. “Is that—”
I elbowed Maxwell hard in the stomach, making him flinch. Then I placed both hands on Maxwell’s chest and gave him a hard shove.
“Absolutely fine,” I blurted. “You two enjoy yourself. I’m just going to have a nice, long chat with my newfound friend.”
Gideon’s brows drew together in a look of concern.
‘Go,’ I mouthed. “I’ll take care of things.”
With a sharp nod, he walked away with Lachlan in the direction of a room labeled CHILL OUT.
Maxwell rounded on me. “That was Adewale.”
“What are you talking about?” I folded my arms across my chest.
“Is he gay?”
“Funny thing to ask in a gay-friendly club,” I snapped.
Maxwell raised his palms. “I didn’t mean any offense. And actually, I feel a bit better about him batting for the other team.”
“What?”
He raised a massive shoulder. “We thought you and he might be an item.”
“Right.” I drew back and looked out at the dance floor. The platinum-blond guy had disappeared, probably put off by the sight of Maxwell. “What will you do when you get back to the academy?”
“About Adewale wearing a dress to pick up guys?”
I said nothing, not wanting to confirm or deny what Maxwell had seen.
Maxwell rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s none of my business, so I won’t mention it.”
“Thanks,” I said, the tension around my chest melting into the artificial smoke.
“But you’re going to give me a dance.”
“Is this blackmail?”
“Just a dance.”
I glanced at the dance floor. The night was in full swing, with people leaping to the jungle beats. Although I hadn’t planned on hanging around with Gideon and Lachlan the entire evening, I’d hoped to meet someone nice. And I wouldn’t do that with Maxwell hovering over me.
“Come on.” Maxwell wrapped an arm around my middle, encasing me in his seductive, smoky scent.
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and my heart thudded in my chest. This wasn’t like me at all. I couldn’t stand him, Orlando, or his moody twin brother.
We walked through the crowds into the nu-jazz room, were a guitar riff repeated over a funky double bass. Couples of all orientations writhed on the dance floor. My gaze lingered on an Indian girl sandwiched between two dreadlocked black guys, and I shook my head. Why did some girls have all the luck?
Maxwell’s hand landed on the small of my back, and he pulled me into his chest.
A shudder ran down my spine and settled between my legs. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” His deep voice melted my lace panties.
I placed my palms on his chest, and he stared straight into my eyes, his white teeth bared in an expression that was half-grin and half show-me-what-you-got. We swayed in time with the music, locked into each other’s gazes.
Shit, if he hadn’t been such a dickhead and so preoccupied with Elizabeth, I might have been interested. But I wouldn’t touch a guy like Maxwell with my worst enemy’s pussy.
The music ended, and he held me in place. “What are you thinking?”
“Need a piss.” I spun on my heel, breaking his hold and walked out toward the other room.
Later, I’d try a different room and see if I could find that platinum blond or someone equally as tasty.
I wove through the crowd, losing Maxwell with a bit of ducking and diving. The bathrooms were up ahead past a fire exit. As soon as I opened the door, my stomach dropped.
The line for the ladies’ bathroom stretched all the way to the doors and looked at least an hour long. I’d burst my bladder before I actually reached a toilet. I raised my chin, walked past all the women, and headed to the gents. Hopefully, no one would notice I didn’t belong.
After averting my gaze from a line of men standing at the urinals, I ducked into a stall and did my business. Even though I’d lied about needing to use the bathroom, I was glad to have gone.
Moments later, a familiar voice said, “Fuck, did you see her in that dress?”
“Don’t go there,” said Orlando’s voice. “Elizabeth will never forgive you, and you’ll ruin everything.”
My ears perked up, and my muscles stopped the flow. Were they talking about their parents’ plans for one of them to marry the next Lady Liddell?
“She might be worth it,” said Maxwell. “You didn’t feel those tits against your chest.”
“Watching her humping you was enough.”
As the two boys chuckled, I clenched my teeth. If there was any humping, it was Maxwell doing it to me and not the other way around.
“How about we get what we want and earn brownie points with Elizabeth?” said Orlando.
“I’m listening.”
“Get Lilah to agree to a three-way. We’ll do it in my room. I’ll have the clock-camera on the mantle to record everything. When the time is right, we’ll broadcast it in the dining room, and Burgh will expel her for lewd conduct.”
My mouth dropped open.
“That won’t work,” said Maxwell. “You know what Elizabeth thinks about chastity.”
“I didn’t say we had to broadcast everything. We’ll edit things, so it looks like we made our excuses and left before the big bang.”
Maxwell snickered. “I’m down.”
I didn’t hear what Orlando said next because the blood roaring in my ears drowned out everything else in its thirst for revenge.
Chapter 11
I stayed in that stall for several minutes, fuming at their nerve. Even though I couldn’t stand Elizabeth, what I hated more were guys who approached a girl with a game plan, while trying to seduce another girl. They were no better than Sammy.
How dare they try to set me up for a sex tape and get me expelled? If I had to return to Richley, Sammy and his pals would come after me, now convinced of my guilt because I’d run away. I sat on the toilet, clenching my fists and snarling at their audacity.
A heavy fist banged on the door. “Hurry up!”
I finished my business, flushed, and washed my hands. Instead of heading back to the nu-jazz room, I went in search of Gideon in the chill-out room.
It was a smallish blue space littered with comfortable sofas. Most were two-seaters, and some stretched out to accommodate four.
My gaze swept from the bar at the very end, over the chatting and kissing couples, to the small dance floor.
I walked around the edge of the room and stopped at a corner, where Gideon wrapped his arms around Lachlan’s neck. The silver-haired man’s hands were all over Gideon’s ruffles, massaging his ass as though it was a stopped heart that needed resuscitation.
I gave them both gentle taps on the shoulder.
Gideon broke the kiss, his dark lipstick gone and now smeared over Lachlan’s face. “Lilah?” He blinked as though trying
to focus. “Are you alright?
“What would you say if I told you I was about to do something reckless?”
“Will it get you arrested?” he asked.
I shook my head. “It’s related to that wanker.”
His brows drew together. “Will it get you expelled?”
“No, but it will either end the bullying or escalate it to stratospheric proportions.”
“What happened?” asked Lachlan.
“First, Maxwell said he wouldn’t mention anything about you at the academy, but I overheard him talking to Orlando about what they planned to do to me tonight.” I repeated what the boys had said in the bathroom.
Gideon pursed his lips. “Whatever happened to walking away? We could leave—”
“No.” I raised my palm. “Stay. You deserve a night out. Orlando and Maxwell deserve what’s coming to them.”
Lachlan chuckled. “Fancy them, do you?”
I shrugged. “They’re both easy on the eye, and I wouldn’t mind getting off at their expense. My biggest worry is that they’ll take their revenge out on Gideon for anything I do to them tonight.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Gideon placed a hand on my shoulder. “If they decide to tell everyone, I’ll deal with the fallout.”
“Will you be alright, going home on your own?” I asked.
Gideon nodded. “When Wank closes, we’re booking a room at the Clyde, and then we’ll have breakfast in town before I catch the bus.”
Lachlan slipped me a business card that indicated he was a personal trainer and the manager of a gym in Glasgow. “Here’s my number in case you’re worried about your friend.”
A relieved breath slid from my lips. I’d been to enough clubs, met enough blokes to know that Gideon would be safe with Lachlan. The personal trainer gave off good vibes. I offered them a wave and a wide smile. “Have a great night.”
Gideon smiled back. “Good luck.”
I strutted out of the chill-out room, through the main dance floor that played garage music, and to the nu-jazz room. I glanced around, looking for signs of Maxwell when Orlando approached me from the bar.
He had gelled his dishwater-blond hair back to tame its wild curls and wore a sleeveless, leather shirt with shoulder loops that looked like it had been painted onto his sculpted chest. Handcuffs dangled from each side of his leather pants, making him look like a big, bad, baby dom.
I let my gaze rove down his athletic form. What a pity his personality didn’t match his perfect looks.
Raising his brows, Orlando offered me one of his two bottles of lager. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Thanks.” I took one of the bottles and took a nice long swig. The crisp liquid fizzled down my throat, adding to the buzz of the vodka cocktail. “Didn’t Maxwell tell you he’d seen me? I danced with him earlier.”
A look of discomfort crossed his features. The kind of grimace that meant he regretted being caught in such an unnecessary lie. “Are you here alone?”
“I am now.”
An arm snaked around my waist, its hand landing above my hip. “You’re with us, now.”
I turned to Maxwell and gave him my best fake smile. “What’s this, a knight sandwich?”
“We can be anything you want.” He plucked the bottle from my loose fingers and downed the drink in one long gulp.
Maxwell dragged me to the dance floor, where we continued slow, writhing movements to a languid bluesy number with a heavy bass. This time, Orlando joined me from behind, his large, warm hands circling my waist.
I rested my head against his shoulder, enjoying the feel of the treacherous twats and fine-tuning how I would make their plan to humiliate me backfire.
Maxwell bent his neck and murmured into my ear, “You look so fucking hot like that.”
His breath tickled my ear and neck, sending pleasant tingles to my core. My lips curled into a smile. It was so hard to go from fucking Sammy twice a day to having only my fingers to keep me satisfied. I couldn’t even use memories of previous shags for inspiration because I despised the two-timing rat.
“You feel so good.” Orlando’s hardness pressed into my ass. I imagined it sliding through my folds, filling and stretching my pussy until I fell off that precipice of pleasure. My core muscles clenched around nothing, a reminder of my need.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he growled.
The music changed to a frantic drum beat with a floaty saxophone solo. I lost myself in the melody, reached behind me, and pulled Orlando’s head down to my neck. Now I had two sets of lips kissing, licking, and sucking my sensitive flesh. My eyes fluttered closed, and I melted into his hard body.
Maxwell’s hand cupped the side of my face, and he pressed his lips on mine. Sparks shot from where our flesh touched, and my nipples tightened. I wrapped my other arm around his broad back, bringing us closer.
“I wanted to do this to you the moment we met,” Maxwell said before slipping his tongue between my lips.
“Uh.” The noise reverberated in the back of my throat, but it got muffled by Maxwell’s kiss.
He devoured me with his lips and teeth and tongue as the double bass boomed through the speakers and made my nerve endings thrum. How long had it been since I’d been touched like this? It felt like an eternity.
“I want you.” Orlando cupped my breasts and rubbed both thumbs over my nipples.
I moaned, urging him to do more. To slip a hand beneath my dress, pull my lace panties to one side, and touch me where I needed him most.
All the resentment I held toward them, along with my plans of teaching them a lesson, swirled down a whirlwind caused by caressing hands, eager mouths, and hard cocks.
We continued kissing as we left the nu-jazz room. I couldn’t keep my hands off their gorgeous, sculpted bodies. Couldn’t stop tasting them. Not when we stood in line for the cloakroom, not on the way out of the club, and definitely not in the back of a stretch limousine.
The scent of leather and champagne engulfed my senses, and I sank into the plush seat, sandwiched between Orlando and Maxwell. While one plundered my mouth, the other eased the straps off my dress and sucked and teased my nipples.
Minutes passed, and I grabbed Orlando’s hand and placed it on my bare thigh. He slid it back to my waist, making me snarl. They had me right where they wanted me. Why weren’t they pushing for more?
“I’m so fucking turned on.” The words tumbled out of my mouth. “One of you had better let me ride your prick, right now.”
Orlando chuckled. “Eager, are we?”
I reached between his legs and squeezed the hard dick straining between his leather pants. “You’re not the only one.”
Orlando scooted to the side, where a bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice. “Let’s have a drink.”
Let’s have a fuck, I wanted to say, but good sense trickled through my thick head with the absence of his lips. Of course, they wouldn’t let me get off. They needed me in front of the cameras so they could get me expelled.
Maxwell flicked his tongue over one nipple while he rolled the other between his fingers. I slung a thigh over his leather-clad leg, seeing if he would take advantage, but he didn’t so much as touch my knee.
The pop of a cork filled the limo’s back seat, making me stiffen. Moments later, Orlando placed a glass under my lips. Bubbles rose and popped against my skin, releasing a floral scent.
“Drink?” he asked.
“Why not?” I took the glass.
Maxwell drew back, releasing my nipple with a pop. He accepted a glass from Orlando. “Don’t mind if I do.”
I took a long sip of the cold, fizzy liquid, remembering birthdays when the girls and I would sit in the back of limos drinking champagne as we lorded it over the residents of Richley.
Instead, here I was sandwiched between two of the most gorgeous assholes who were scheming to make me star in Templar Academy’s sex tape.
“Are you virgins?” I asked.
Maxwell splutter
ed. “What?”
“Most guys wouldn’t stop in the middle of getting off with a girl. Maybe you’ve got performance anxiety or brewers droop.”
“Does this feel droopy to you?” Maxwell grabbed my hand and placed it on his erection.
I slid my fingers up and down his length, making him throw his head back and shudder. “It feels very nice to me.” My fingers hovered over the zipper. “How about I take a closer look.”
“No!” said Orlando.
“What are you, his mum?” I snarled.
Maxwell scooted away. “Let’s pace ourselves.”
Orlando shoved the champagne glass under my nose. “Top-up?”
I narrowed my eyes, looking forward to screwing them over so hard, they would think twice the next time they tried to scam a girl.
As the limo sped down the highway, we continued sipping champagne and made small talk. The boys explained that they usually went to society events on their weekends off but were glad they had decided to try something edgier.
“Where’s Kendrick?” I asked.
“He’s not one for partying.” Maxwell smiled into his drink, his piercings glinting in the limo’s artificial lights.
I glanced from Orlando to Maxwell. “Personality-wise, you two are more like twins.”
Orlando grinned. “Ken and Max are polar opposites. The only thing they have in common is their appearance.”
“Why are you two planning a threesome with me when you’re interested in Elizabeth?” I asked.
Maxwell frowned. “I’m not.”
“Neither am I,” said Orlando.
I folded my arms across my chest. “You expect me to believe that?”
“We’re just supporting Ken,” said Maxwell. “He’s the one desperate to impress her.”
My eyes narrowed. While the explanation made a sick kind of sense, the conversation I had overheard in the bathroom made me believe the boys would go to any lengths to please Elizabeth, no matter who they hurt.
“You expect me to believe that after the way you’ve treated me?” I asked.
