Queen Bee: A Greenbridge Academy Romance

by Knox, Abby

  She moans into my mouth again and I let out a growl.

  I’m just about to slip the material to one side and feel her folds, explore her and see how wet she is, to ask her if she wants me to take her right here in the library, when we’re interrupted by the sounds of our parents.

  “Kids!” shouts my dad. “Time for dinner!”

  We part for the second time today due to interruptions, and I’m not thrilled about it.

  Over dinner, I take my focus off her lips, her questioning eyes, her delicious mouth and her adorable little tits by marveling at the display on the table. The number of candles and poinsettias make me wonder how much more fancy Bianca’s party will be tomorrow night.

  While our parents chatter, Ridley glances at me across the table with an unreadable expression. She looks like she might be having second thoughts about me and won’t make eye contact. Or maybe she’s embarrassed because we’re about to be step-siblings. Though, to be honest, nobody at this table knows when that might be. Or, if they do, they aren’t saying.

  I try hard to make meaningful eye contact with Ridley, but it’s no use. She’s mortified. And maybe she’s right to be. Maybe this isn’t going to happen between us.

  Completely and totally distracted by my blue balls, I make some work-related excuse to get out of dessert and head to my room. It isn’t a lie. I do have work to do, so I set up my laptop and my devices and distract myself by answering emails and texts. I get a couple of hours of work done before heading to bed.

  Lying under the duvet, I’m trembling like I have the flu. But it’s not the flu; I’m just a lovesick puppy. Is it lovesickness? Or lust-sick? Is that a thing? Damn, my body craves her so bad my brain is addled.

  Hours ago, this huge, nearly empty house was cold and strange to me. Not even the Christmas decorations could convince me that there was anything homey about the place. But now, after spending the day with Ridley, this place feels different.

  Is it the house that feels like home? Or do I feel like I’ve come home because she’s done something to me? She’s gotten under my skin, but it’s more than that. Maybe she’s worked some kind of Christmas magic on me without even trying.

  I get up and flip through the stack of books that decorate the carved wood mantle of the fireplace in my room. Yet again, I come across a classic tome that looks like it’s been left out in the sun or damaged somehow. What the hell is going on with the books in this house? What am I missing?

  Fuck, I don’t care.

  I simultaneously feel like I should try to focus on work and go to Ridley’s room and punish her for making me feel so restless. Punish her with my mouth all over that sweet, responsive body of hers.

  Cursing and flinging all the books into a pile on the floor, I settle down on the bed and fire up my laptop to check my email again. Pretty soon, my browsing fingers wander over to a special encrypted folder on my desktop. The folder full of filthy pornography that only I have the password for. Maybe a physical release would steady me.

  But as my cursor flicks over it, I can’t bring myself to click on it. I don’t want to. The only image I want in my head, the only naked body I want to picture while I have my hand wrapped around my cock is the girl that’s going to be my stepsister any day now.

  6

  Ridley

  This is wrong. I shouldn’t be having feelings for my future stepbrother. I could hardly touch my dinner because I didn’t want the taste of anything else on my lips but Crosby’s mouth.

  I looked at him across the table while he was fiddling on his little gaming device. The big nerd. And he didn’t even bother changing into a dress shirt for dinner. Was he raised in a barn? Well, yeah, technically he was, since his dad’s yoga studio is, in fact, located in a refurbished barn.

  He glanced up at me and I looked away, trying to distract myself by posing questions to my mom and Neil about when they think they might set a date for the wedding.

  As I lie here in my room, I finally decide this torture is ridiculous. I’m Ridley Fucking Rushmore. Since when have I not gone after exactly what I want?

  Slipping out of my bed, I toss on my dressing gown and slippers. I escape the family wing silently and sneak my way into the guest area of the house.

  At night, the wintry decorations take on another feel. They are actually beautiful. The windows along the long hallways let in moonlight, which glints off the metallic ornaments all around me. I love it. Maybe my mother is not a totally soulless monster. This is my home after all. I grew up here, never deprived of anything. Sassy is here. And now, Crosby is here too. I’m coming around to the idea that maybe Vail isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Being at home feels…nice.

  So, why am I nervous? I don’t get nervous. I get what I want. I suck in my breath and rap lightly at the door.

  And I wait.

  The waiting gives me time to think, which is always dangerous. I wonder if Crosby misses being in his home on Christmas. He says he grew up around here, but now he lives in Silicon Valley with all the other gamer geeks. It makes me a little sad that he’s in a strange house for the holidays.

  I’m almost feeling generous. Nurturing, even.

  Gross. Why do I feel that?

  The feeling passes as time goes on and he still doesn’t answer the door. After a few moments, I start to get pissed off. Nobody ever keeps me waiting.

  But then, the door opens.

  I’m not prepared for what I see.

  Crosby’s dick. Wait, what?

  Holy shit! Crosby’s dick!

  Long and thick and gleaming in the soft light that floods in from the window in the corridor behind me.

  It’s hard as fuck. Throbbing.

  I force my eyes up to Crosby’s chest and then his face. He’s breathing hard, his facial expression is dark and wild.

  Holy shit. He was jerking it in there. Was he thinking about me?

  I gasp and try not to shout as I question him. “What are you doing? Who opens the door like that?”

  His ragged voice comes out like a punch to the air. “To your first question: waiting for you. To your second question: a man who knows exactly what’s waiting for him on the other side.”

  I cross my arms and shoot him an indignant look. “Well, I for one—”

  “Shut up,” Crosby barks. “And get the fuck in here.”

  Heat floods my body at his rough speech, and I do as he asks.

  7

  Crosby

  I pull her close to me and consume her mouth in a deep, probing kiss as I kick the door closed behind her. Loudly. I don’t give a fuck if it wakes up the whole house.

  Ridley’s body melts into mine. I step backward toward the bed and sit down on the end of it. She stands over me, pulling off her pajama top to reveal her magnificent breasts.

  I want to touch them, massage them, tease her nipples, taste her skin, but then I notice she’s shaking.

  “Hey,” I say. “Are you OK?”

  Her mouth twists, unsure if she’s ready to say what she needs to say. “You’re only the second person I’ve ever had sex with.”

  Ridley’s vulnerability in this moment is a very brief window. I know enough about her to know that. So I gotta move quickly if I’m going to jump through it before it closes.

  “Whoever was here before me,” I say, cupping my hands around her soft breasts, “was a boy, and they don’t matter. I’m a man. That’s what you deserve.”

  Ridley groans. I don’t know if it’s a response to my words or the touch of my hands.

  “Stop it,” she hisses.

  I pull my hands away immediately. “It’s OK, honey, we don’t have to…”

  She slaps my shoulder. “Ow!” I say.

  “I didn’t mean stop groping me, dummy. I meant stop saying nice things.”

  8

  Ridley

  Crosby looks confused. I’ve confounded him.

  “I’m not used to guys being nice to me when we’re alone.”

  He blinks up at
me like he’s thinking for a beat. “Come here to me,” he says, pulling me down onto his lap so I’m sitting on one of his bare thighs while my legs rest across his other massively muscled leg. His hard cock is squeezed between us, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Tell me what they say.”

  I bite my bottom lip and look down, covering my breasts. “He…liked to call me names when we were alone. He said it was just dirty talk and that everybody does it. Like…” I swallow, hardly believing that I’m going to tell him this. “He liked to call me a ‘spoiled slut,’ ‘mean girl whore,’ ‘slutty little queen bee.’ I think it made him feel powerful, given who I am. Whose daughter I am. His dad is on the board of directors of Daddy’s company. I guess he thinks I give a shit about that power struggle. I didn’t like the way he talked at first. But then I got used to it. I thought it was just part of sex.”

  Crosby wraps his arms around me and kisses my shoulder. “Only if that’s what you want. I’m sorry that happened to you. You don’t deserve that.”

  I heave a sigh. “How do you know what I do and don’t deserve?”

  “Because you’re a human being and nobody deserves to be treated like that. And beyond that, you’re a good person.”

  “You barely know me. I don’t want to brag but I’m kind of feared in certain circles.”

  He chuckles and once again it ripples pleasingly across my skin. “Good people can be scary. It just means you know what you want and you’re in charge of your life.”

  “Everybody thinks that but I’m not.”

  Crosby squeezes me so sweetly that a tear forms in my eye. “You practically ordered me to kiss you.”

  “Your tee-shirt made me angry, which sometimes translates to horny.”

  This makes him laugh, which makes me feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. Happy. Hearing Crosby laugh makes me happy. Knowing I did that, makes me even happier.

  I carefully swivel on his lap until I’m straddling his hips. “I do know what I want. I don’t want to talk anymore.”

  Crosby groans and slides his mouth over my nipple, his tongue teasing it while his one arm supports my lower back and his free hand plays with and cups my other breast. I moan and tug at his hair. He responds with a nip of his teeth — that charming, slightly crooked front tooth scraping my skin making me quiver. His hand slides down to my ass, then back around until he’s reaching between us to cup my pussy. I moan his name. His teeth on my nipples and his hands urgently petting my core almost have me falling to pieces.

  “Let me get wrapped up while you take off the rest of those cute little pajamas.”

  A moment later I’m back on his lap on the edge of the bed, both of us naked, bared to each other. Crosby slides into me with a gentle persistence. “Ridley. Oh my god. You’re so fucking tight.”

  Crosby’s eyes lock on mine like he’s daring me to look away.

  “You feel so good wrapped around me. So perfect. You’re perfect just the way you are, do you know that? Perfect for me.”

  It’s too much. Too much earnestness. His gaze is too intense.

  He’s making me feel things.

  I barely know him and he’s looking at me like…like…he sees me.

  At the joining of our sexes, it’s the sweetest friction. I move up and down on him as our pleasure heightens and pushes us toward orgasm. It’s just biology, I tell myself. Chemical reactions. He’s kidding himself if he thinks his feelings for me are real. He’s going to be disappointed if he thinks this is going to mean anything. I don’t have these kinds of feelings about people.

  The way he’s looking into my eyes, I get the sense of how he sees me. He’s looking at me with nothing but care and worship mixed in with the lust.

  “Ridley,” he moans, sparking a fire across the skin of my chest. The sound of my name in his mouth causes my pussy to clamp down hard on his shaft.

  Crosby stills the movement of my hips. “Stay here with me.”

  I feel confused. “I am here with you.”

  “Hold still. Just stay down here with me, hold me inside you. I want to be still for a minute to look into your eyes. I want to memorize this moment.”

  My voice goes husky, betraying the emotions I’m trying to hide. “Why?”

  “Because this is special. You’re special.”

  I crack.

  “I…what am I supposed to say to that?”

  “Surely everyone around you reminds you of how special you are.”

  I shake my head. “Worshipers. Sycophants. Followers. Pretty people who like my daddy’s credit cards. What do you want from me?”

  “I want you. I want you for myself. I want your kiss, your body, your smile, your conversations, the wiggle of your hips when you traipse around in those heels, your smartass mouth, the cat whisperer, the pout in your lips. I want all of it. I want all of you. Give me you.”

  My thighs tighten around his hips and I grind on him, his cock so swollen inside me I feel as full and alive as I’ve ever felt. My aching clit rubs against him as we grind. The lump in my throat gives way, and the tears come at the same time as I climax. The storm of it smashes all my inner windows and splinters all the doors. My mental furniture is upturned and I know, as I scream out his name again and again, I won’t be able to put any of it back to where it was before.

  9

  Crosby

  The cold space in the bed next to me in the morning is unacceptable.

  Cursing, I get out of bed and slip into the shower. I’m so pissed that Ridley sneaked out as I slept that I don’t even care that the water shocks my body before it warms up.

  She’s going to pay for that, I think with a smile, because I can’t stay pissed when I think about us and everything that happened the night before. It’s too bad she left early; I had plans to show her how a real man greets his woman good morning.

  Showered and dressed, I stroll down to the kitchen to find Ridley on the back porch again, petting and feeding Sassy. I don’t want to disturb her, so I putter around the kitchen until I find something to fix her for breakfast.

  “Sir, allow me,” says a voice behind me. I nearly drop the oranges in my hand as I spin around.

  “Hi. What’s your name?”

  “Thomas?” he answers like it’s a question. As if nobody ever addresses him by his name.

  “Hi, Thomas, I’m Crosby. I think I can manage. But thank you.”

  “Very well, but please let me know if I can assist you with anything at all. We’re all bustling around ahead of the Christmas Eve gala tonight but don’t hesitate to grab me or any one of the staff to see to your needs.”

  I smile and nod at him, thinking to myself that my needs are certainly being met without the aid of household staff.

  Thomas leaves me to my work and I manage to assemble a half decent plate of eggs, fruit, toast, avocado and a bowl of cereal.

  “What are you doing?”

  For the second time this morning I spin around in surprise.

  “Could you please make a noise when you come in?”

  She cringes, shutting the French doors behind her. “Being a teen in this house has taught me to sneak around.”

  I laugh. “Good thing your high school years are over. Sounds like they left a mark.”

  She looks puzzled for a moment then says, “Yeah. Totally.”

  Something seems awkward all of a sudden, and I don’t know why. Usually I’m pretty sure when I’ve said the wrong thing. So, I change the subject.

  “Well, here, sit down, I made you some breakfast.”

  She smiles in surprise. “There’s no way I can eat all this but thank you!”

  I sit down across from her at the eat-in kitchen table.

  Ridley looks adorable as she nibbles on her toast.

  “I never eat this much but I’m really hungry for some reason.”

  I slide my hand across the table and rest it on top of hers. “Yeah, some reason,” I say.

  She looks down and blushes while stabbing her avocado slice
s.

  “I like making you blush.”

  “Talk about something else, please.”

  I sit back and cross my arms over my chest. “OK. What the hell is going on with all the books in this place? Every single one of them has the same color spine, and the pages inside are either blank or smudged or damaged in some way. Is this house haunted?”

  Ridley, who is sipping from the glass of fresh squeezed orange juice that I made for her, nearly does a spit take.

  “Sort of. It’s haunted by my mother’s need for uniformity. She buys up used books just to use in decorating. Her designer has all the books rewrapped to look the same, and bleaches or cleans all the page edges so they’re all the same oatmeal color.”

  I stare at her like she must be kidding, but she meets my stare with total seriousness.

  “This information just destroyed my entire soul,” I say.

  She cackles and takes a bite of her cereal. “Melodramatic much?”

  “Don’t even try that on me. I know you have a sentimental side or you wouldn’t be taking care of a stray cat.”

  “It’s not because I’m sentimental. I just love to aggravate my mother.”

  Her body language tells me she’s full of shit. She’s not meeting my eyes.

  I lean forward again and cover her hand that’s resting on the table with mine. “That aggravation is a bonus side effect and you know it. You loves the kittehs.” I give her my best mischievous smile.

  Ridley fights a losing battle against a smile that plays at her lips, her spoon idly swirling through her cereal. “Why are we talking about this?”

  “Because I’m trying to get to know you.”

  Her face is down but she looks up at me through her eyelashes in an unbelievably sexy grin. “I don’t know why.”

  “Because I like you and I think you like me.”

  “You’re an unbearable nerd who is way too cocky for his social standing.”

  I pick up a slice of bacon off her plate and pop it into my mouth. “Yeah, but you didn’t say you didn’t like me. I think my kissing skills demonstrate my standing as pretty fucking high with you.”