by Rachel Jonas
He holds my gaze, daring me to look away when he pushes his sweats down toned hips, baring himself to me completely. I only have a moment to steady my breath before the soft flesh of his lips meets mine. He kisses me deep, gripping the back of my hair. My head spins every time his tongue moves over mine.
A crinkling sound catches my attention and he backs away, only long enough to roll a condom into place with one hand. Then, I’m pulled down onto his lap when he sits. Heat moves through my back where he holds me tight. His hips flex between my thighs as I straddle him, feeling him all but begging to be let in. I show no sign of intending to make him wait, so he reaches between our bodies, aligns himself, and then guides me down onto him by my hips.
A whimper leaves my mouth and it’s steeped in relief, finally feeling him completely, in ways I’ve longed for since the first time I laid eyes on him. My lids fall closed and I ride him slow, drawing a deep moan from his lips.
“Your eyes,” he rasps. “Open them and fucking look at me.”
I meet his gaze, taking in the sex-drunk look set on his face. He’s barely coherent as our bodies move together, him wanting my full attention. He has it all, just like he wants. And, suddenly, I understand why I’m not allowed to turn away.
There’s an intensity he exudes, and he needs the same in return. I willingly give it, grinding on him faster, harder as my arms lock around his neck. I give him everything. Every ounce of hate, every ounce of anger I have inside me, and he happily receives it, absorbing it all.
His fingertips dig deep into my hips and tension builds in my core. My breaths are quiet moans now and West swallows them down when he captures my mouth with a kiss. Leaning back, he brings me down on top of him. Then, my every move is guided by his hands, the churning of my hips in rough, grinding circles as he thrusts hard underneath me. The combination has me on the verge of a scream. His head pushes back toward the mattress, and he can hardly catch his breath. My fingertips tighten on his chest and I’m so close.
“Don’t … come yet,” he says with erratic pauses between the words, still controlling me.
“I’m not sure I can wait,” I warn. My body has a mind of its own and he’s so, so deep.
In an attempt to slow my mounting climax, he eases up a bit, slipping one hand upward to grip me just under my ribs. It feels like my heart is on the verge of beating out of my chest, but then a menacing smirk curves West’s lips.
Out of nowhere, he begins the assault once again, catching me completely by surprise. This time, I can’t hold out like he’s requested, but I’m guessing that’s the point.
“Don’t stop,” I mutter incoherently, squeezing my thighs tightly against him.
He continues to work my hips, grinding my body against his until I begin to quake all over. The powerful swell of tension between my legs mounts, peaking with a euphoric explosion I feel from the inside out. I revel in the moment only seconds before West’s body writhes beneath me. He thrusts his hips a few final times, gripping me so tightly it hurts, and then I have the unmatched pleasure of watching King Midas get his release.
It plays out through a series of high-inducing expressions. First, it’s unbelievably tense, followed by pure bliss, and finally it floods with calming relief. Right after, he lets out a breathy grunt and goes completely motionless beneath me.
I find myself staring down into his vibrant eyes, but neither of us speak. It’s that lack of words that leaves me a bit unnerved, overwhelmingly aware of what we’ve just done. From there, it doesn’t take long for the full scope of things to hit me. Then, in an instant, I’m an insecure mess on the inside, hoping West doesn’t notice.
That insecurity grows and I move to climb off him, thinking a bit of space might help clear my head, but just as I do, his arm holds me in place. Locked against him, there’s tenderness in the touch I’m not sure he means for me to notice, but I do. Maybe because I’m so desperate for that, some sort of sign that I’m not the only one who just felt that—the blinding energy that just exploded between us.
His lips part and he has my full attention, thinking he’ll speak. Thinking he’ll say something that will further drive away this heavy sense of dread. Despite life having taught me that putting any measure of hope into a guy like West is a risk.
His chest moves when his breathing picks up again, and his gaze lowers to my mouth. Being held like this, I feel so much. Things I’ve already sworn I’ll deny feeling until the day I die. But I notice something. It’s slight but doesn’t get past me.
As West scans my face with a quick, sweeping look, his grip on me loosens and, just like that, he’s suddenly someone else. The shift leaves me breathless and I feel like the rug has been snatched out from underneath me.
Whatever false reality being intimate had just erased for him, it comes flooding right back to him like a storm surge. I can’t help but to hear his words again. That our truth would be revealed through this single act.
Maybe that’s what this is. Our revelation.
I move aside when West slips from underneath me without any kind of comfort, and then storms toward the bathroom. There’s anger in his stride, in those rolling hills of his shoulders and back and, watching him, my chest tightens with grief.
There’s not a question in my mind of whether I’ve made a mistake. Only of the magnitude and lasting impact it will have.
He pauses at the bathroom door but doesn’t turn. For the fraction of a second, that inkling of hope returns, but then it’s snatched away with three little words.
“You should go.”
Then, he disappears around the corner, slamming the door behind him. The sound has me shaken, and I’m frozen in disbelief for a moment.
He wouldn’t just do that. I know we’re screwed up, but … just dismissing me?
But then it registers, and I realize what this was. Just sex. Nothing more than that, and now he wants me gone. Just like he’d demand with any other girl.
It’s pride that draws me to my feet on autopilot, stifling the many emotions beginning to swirl inside me. Through tear-blurred vision, I’m in search of my clothes, knowing that, for my own sanity, I cannot still be here when he gets back.
If I’m going to hold it together, I have to get as far away from him as possible and go right into emotional-damage-control-mode. But before I can even get that far, I’m beating myself up. It starts the second I flee from his suite with my shoes in hand, trying not to hyperventilate as I rush to my own room in an epic walk of shame, fumbling with the key at the door.
How could you be so stupid?
Did you really not see this coming?
You’re so screwed. You’re so broken. You’re officially a slut. At least with Ricky, it meant something. To you. To him.
Damn.
I make it inside and don’t bother with the light. If I have to look at myself in the mirror, I might not be able to pull it together. This is the worst thing I’ve ever done, and there’s no taking it back.
As far as regrets go, it doesn’t get any worse than this.
@QweenPandora: It’s game day tomorrow! Put the drinks down, put the girls out, and rest up! GO, PANTHERS!
Later, peeps!
—P
Chapter 39
BLUE
I’m on autopilot, just moving through this day so I can put it behind me. The only thing I want is for this weekend to be over. Never in a million years did I think I’d miss home, but I do.
I miss it and I’ve spent the entire morning and afternoon so far trying not to cry and even now, I’m sure I look a mess. My eyes sting every time my thoughts slip back to last night, to the contrast of extreme highs and lows. To say that I’m devastated would be a huge understatement. My heart feels broken, but that can’t be right. That would have to mean I’d given it to West at some point and that’s a lie.
Our team pulls out another touchdown and I’m relieved when I look at the time on the scoreboard winding down. We’re up by several points and it’s nearly o
ver. And as for West, this will be his second win in twenty-four hours. The first being tricking me into sleeping with him. All so he could shut down and humiliate me afterward.
I’m an idiot.
So stupid.
I shove the thoughts aside and just keep taking pics. Several carloads of CPA students drove up for the big game, so this small section of the stadium is filled with familiar-ish faces. I’m posted a couple rows behind the dance squad, doing my best to forget everyone exists.
As soon as the game ends, I’ll go to my room to pack, and then the last storm I’ll have to weather will be the bus ride home in the morning. If I can avoid West completely, it’ll be fine.
At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
Dane scores big, narrowly avoiding a nasty tackle from two of the biggest seniors I’ve seen in my life, but he’s too quick and makes it into the endzone. The entire crowd goes wild, but no one’s as ecstatic as Joss. I think back on the few times I’ve noticed how she and Dane are together and I fight the jealousy that creeps in. There’s an ease to what they have—even if it is only friendship—but I’m almost certain it’s something I’ll never experience.
With anyone.
Two girls from the dance squad turn and zero in on me just as my gaze slips from Joss. Their eyes are wide, and one has her hand clamped over her mouth, but she quickly averts her attention upon realizing she hasn’t been as discreet as she first thought.
A loud cackle from the other end of the bleachers gets ignored because I’m focused on getting a shot of the ball in midair after West snaps it, but then, all of a sudden, the air is abuzz with a symphony of phone notifications. Even my own is vibrating in my pocket.
“Is that her?”
“Oh my God!”
The chatter around me picks up volume, but I’m still mostly numb to it, still focusing on getting this job done so I can curl up in the hotel room bed and pretend I’m invisible.
Right now, that sounds like heaven.
I snap another photo—intentionally avoiding West’s face—and glance at the scoreboard. Only a couple minutes left in the quarter and it’s a guaranteed win. Not that I care at all about that.
“Well somebody just got famous for all the wrong reasons,” a girl to my right says loud enough to catch my attention. And now that she has it, I realize she’s looking right at me.
In fact, several people are looking right at me.
And those who aren’t, are glued to their phones.
There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, although I don’t yet know why I feel it, but it has my hands shaking as I reach into the pocket of my hoodie to pull out my phone.
And the second I do … bile rises in my throat.
“Guess we all know where you spent last night.”
I don’t know who said it, nor do I know who’s laughing now, but it sounds like everyone.
Everyone is laughing at me.
I glance at my phone again, unable to believe what I’m seeing, but there it is, plain as day.
Me and West. In his bed last night. Naked.
And it isn’t just a picture … it’s a video.
My head is spinning and I’m on my feet and pushing my way through the crowd to dart up the stairs of the massive stadium. I’m willing to bowl over anyone who dares to stand between me and the exit, because I have to get out of here.
Have to.
How is it possible that one mistake has humiliated me twice?
I can hardly see through the tears that come, as I search desperately for the way out of this place. My phone is to my ear and I feel it shaking in my hand. I need someone to get me as far away from here as possible, and there’s only one person I can think to dial.
My call is answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Can you please come get me? I can’t stay here,” I say, sobbing so hard it’s a miracle I can even be heard. My stomach is in knots and my chest burns with rage and humiliation.
“Text me the address. I’m on my way.”
I lower the phone and run faster than I’ve ever run before, all to get away from the one I no longer trust myself around. Not because I fear I’ll let my guard down with him, but rather because I couldn’t say for sure I wouldn’t kill him.
Of all the things I believed West to be capable of doing, I never saw this coming. Not ever. But one thing he should have learned about me is that I’m no pushover.
If it’s a war you want, West Golden, then that’s precisely what the fuck you’re gonna get.
@QweenPandora: And here I was thinking our team snagging the big win would be the top news of the day. But it seems someone’s making an early submission for this year’s Pink List, and her name is Blue Riley, a.k.a. NewGirl.
Some suggest the risqué video speaks for itself, putting our girl at the top of Cypress Prep Academy’s annual “slut list”, but if you ask me, something’s not quite right. For starters, do we even know who leaked it? I mean … before I got my hands on it, of course.
Too bad we can’t ask the leading lady herself. Word on the street is, she took off as soon as her debut hit the web.
I have a prediction, and it’s maybe a little grim. For every action there’s a reaction, people. Mark my words, there will be some pretty extreme fallout resulting from this fiasco. And when shit finally does hit the fan … you know I’ll bring you the scoop first.
Until next time, peeps!
Signing out…
—P
Thank you so much for reading!
Hopefully, you enjoyed the wild ride with West and Blue.
NEXT IN SERIES
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A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Thank you so much for reading the Golden Boys, Book 1 in the Kings of Cypress Prep series.
If you have enjoyed entering Cypress Prep, show other readers by leaving a review! Just visit: The Golden Boys
The series continues with book2 coming this December. So stay tuned! Join my readers’ group for more news The Shifter Lounge and my Newsletter today!
SOUNDTRACK
(Listed in no particular order)
Music is a very integral part of my writing process, and I carefully choose songs that fuel each scene. The lyrics may not always be spot on, but sometimes it’s more about the emotion evoked. While writing The Vampire’s Mark, I selected music that brought out the intense emotions Cori felt during various scenes throughout her journey. I hope this list enhances the reading experience for you, like it did for me while writing.
Note: Piracy is unlawful, and using sites where music can be downloaded for free is equivalent to stealing from the musician. Buying the song or album directly from the artist will always be the best way to show support and appreciation for the artist’s work.
“Gambling Hearts”—Harrison Brome
“Shelter”—Harrison Brome
“Come Together”—Gary Clark Jr.
“Gold”—Kiiara
“It was a Good Day”—Ice Cube
“There’s No Way”—Lauv
“Ruin”—Shawn Mendes
“Slow Dancing in the Dark”—Joji
“Falling For You”—The 1975
“Often”—The Weeknd
“She Wants”—Metronomy
“Crave You”—Clairo
“Time of the Season”—The Zombies
“Bad T
hings”—Cults
“I Found”—Amber Run
“Teeth”—5 Seconds of Summer
“Novacane”—Frank Ocean
“We Can Make Love”—SoMo
“Losin Control”—Russ
“Who Needs Love”—Trippie Redd
“Body”—Sinead Harnett
“Abandoned”—Trippie Redd
“Run”—Joji
“Candy Castle”—Glass Candy
“Yeah Right”—Joji
“I think I’m Okay”—Machine Gun Kelly
“Bad Things”—Machine Gun Kelly
“Tearing Me Up (Remix)”—Bob Moses
“Stuck in the Middle”—Tai Verdes
“Sweater Weather”—The Neighbourhood
“Broken”—lovelytheband
ABOUT RACHEL JONAS
Rachel Jonas also writes as Nikki Thorne.
Hey, I'm Rachel! Consider this your formal invitation to hang out in my private Facebook group, THE SHIFTER LOUNGE. You'll get fun book convo, exclusive giveaways, and other random acts of nerdiness!
Don't usually talk to strangers? No worries! Allow me to introduce myself. I'm a Michigan native, wife, and mother of three who made a career of indulging the voices inside my head :) With several completed series, and stories in both the paranormal and contemporary YA/NA romance categories, there's something for everyone!
Happy reading!
