“I’ll take my chances.” She brushes past me, linking arms with Griffin as he shoots me a wink and walks her to the room where rows of ping-pong tables are lined up.
We get set up, me taking my side with Griffin, and her on the other with a girl she introduces herself to.
“This is going to be like taking candy from a baby.” I wink at her, positioning myself at an angle where I know will surely sink a cup in my favor.
“Oh, darling, I’m nobody’s baby.” The twinkle in Eloise’s eye is dangerous, and I like it.
Griffin and Eloise’s partner go eye to eye, or look at each other while they shoot the pong balls to decide which team will get the first shot. Surprisingly, Griffin’s ball misses, bouncing and rolling onto the sticky floor beneath the table. Eloise and her partner cheer, wiggling their hips in that way girls do.
“Prepare to take it off, lads!” Her blond mane shakes as she takes another sip of beer out of her red cup.
Holding the ball between two fingers, she closes one eye, targeting a specific cup. But, fuck me, she confuses us, my eyes focused on her tits instead of the moment when she bounces the ball across the table, landing securely in the front cup of our triangle.
“That’s two cups for a bounce!” She cheers, her arms reaching above her head as a sliver of stomach exposes.
I groan, but I’m not mad, really. If anything, my bare chest will distract her.
“Together, then?” I turn to Griffin, and we pull our shirts over our heads.
I down the cup of beer she made, and then look across the table. The sly grin has slid right off of her lips, replaced instead by her tongue darting out to lick the bottom one. Eloise is raking her eyes over my body as if it were a bed of hot coals, and she was trying to figure out how to touch it without getting burned. I smile a cocky smirk back at her, waiting until her eyes move up to my own to raise a brow.
“See anything you like?”
“Just take your shot.” She plants a hand on her hip.
I don’t tear my gaze away, just aim and let the ball soar. It splashes into the cup right in front of where she stands, making her grit her teeth.
“I’ll just step out of these shoes …” She bats her eyelashes.
“Oh, that’s a cheap move! But fine, have it your way. I’ll have you out of your underwear in no time.”
“Hey, I like this one.” Griffin elbows me, raising his eyebrows. “You have dibs?”
I look at Eloise, who lines up for her next shot. “Yeah, she’s mine. Don’t even think about it. And tell the guys too.”
I wasn’t usually so quick to be territorial, but with the British spitfire across the table, I found that nothing I usually did was the pattern I’d been following when it came it Eloise.
We go back and forth, playing the game. I sink a shot, her partner takes her tank top off. They hit back-to-back cups, and Griffin and I strip down to our boxers. I see the blush creep up Eloise’s neck, and I know where her mind is … in the gutter. I miss a shot, shockingly, but land one on my next turn and finally earn her shirt.
When she pulls it over her head, revealing a lacy black bra beneath, my cock hardens. She sees it, no barrier but the thin cotton of my underwear concealing it. I study the creamy skin peeking out from beneath the lace triangles covering her nipples, memorizing her collarbone and the way her shoulders have the sexiest little freckles on them. My gaze slides down her stomach, the pale skin flawless, with a small beauty mark just next to her belly button. I want to devour every inch of her.
Griffin and I have only our boxers left on, the girls still in their jeans and bras. We have two cups left on our side, they have three.
In one swift move, Eloise’s partner sinks a cup. Griffin and I look at each other. “Should we rock, paper, scissors?”
He laughs, before hooking his thumbs in his boxers and pulling them free, talking so only I can hear. “You may be able to call dibs, but I can still show her what she’s missing.”
His dick springs free and I whip my head away as the room cheers. It would be strange that he was in his birthday suit, if the entire pong tournament wasn’t also in various states of undress.
“Oh my God!” Eloise and her partner, and some of the other girls, gasp and laugh.
“That’s right, ladies, get your fill! Who wants to take a ride on the Griffin stick tonight?” He keeps pointing south of his waist, and I have to laugh along with them because it’s just ridiculous.
I also take the opportunity to fire off another shot, sinking a cup on Eloise’s side of the table. “Take it off, baby.”
She grumbles at the nickname, but unbuttons her black jeans and shimmies out of them. At this point, I’m hard as a fucking rock, and my cock is jutting to attention in the direction of her body. Black lace panties, the same as her bra, run over smooth hips. And from what I can tell, she’s completely bare underneath them. I wonder how wet she is, but that only serves to twist my balls further.
Griffin shoots, making their other cup, leaving only one on each side and making Eloise’s partner lose her jeans.
“Don’t get too distracted, you could win this right now.” I jutted my hips, knowing that it would draw attention to the massive bulge in my pants.
She misses by a mile. “That was unfair … you are the devil, Colton Reiter.”
Her partner misses too, and then Griffin shoots for us, sinking their last cup.
We high five, and I turn to look across the table. “Time to lose the bra, Eloise.”
Her expression turns to panic, and I think I’ve finally caught the confident, untouchable woman like a deer in headlights.
“I think I’ll keep it on. You know, since the game is already over. Nice playing with you, boys.”
And just like that, she skirts the last rule of the game and instead begins to put her clothes back on. I watch until she’s done fastening the last button and righting her shirt, and then walk across to her.
“You might have escaped again, but let me promise you, it’s the final slack I’m cutting you. Next time, I’m not letting you worm your way out of it. Next time, I’ll take from you what I want, and you’ll be begging me not to stop.”
Her eyes are pure lust as she backs out of the room.
Fourteen
Eloise
I ended up cooking for Blair and her roommate, Kristen, last night before the party. I’d gone all out, enjoying my shopping trip to the various markets around Thistle. I’d prepared a venison and scallop dish with puréed carrots, a tri-color salad and chocolate soufflé for dessert.
We’d had a really nice dinner, all in all, and it was good to branch out from the lot I’d surrounded myself with since I arrived here. Kristen and Blair were just fun, normal birds … and they talked about regular things like where to get the cheapest manicure in town or what the best kind of drunk delivery service for food was in the area.
Later, they’d been so drunk on good food and wine that I could finally broach the subject of the social clubs without being detected.
“So you said something about Greek row the other day, give me all the nitty gritty.”
Blair pats her stomach, leaning back in one of the high-top chairs that surrounds her small dining table in the two-bedroom apartment she and Kristen share. Their place is cute, in a first apartment kind of way, with artwork from thrift stores and dollar store silverware. I love the simpleness of it, and that they make no apologies for the radiator noise and the hallway that smells like curry.
Kristen gives Blair a look that I can’t read. “You should stay away from those people.”
I wait them out, letting silence further the conversation.
Blair waves her hand. “See, there are two types of people at this school; those in the social clubs, and those who are not. I prefer not to be under the thumb of Gretchen Bauer and her squad. Mostly because I don’t like taking orders, but also because I am not the type of person to delight in others’ downfalls.”
“And the boys,
don’t even get me started. Pigs, every single one of them. You don’t know how many times I got tricked into one of their beds as a freshman. They appear to be so upstanding, handsome and put together … when in reality, they’re slimeballs. And then there are the rumors …” Kristen trailed off, looking at Blair.
“What rumors?” I press them on, needing to know what I might be walking into.
Gretchen’s whispers in the Charter House the day I’d walked in unannounced have been haunting me. What were they talking about, and why all the secrecy? And was Colton really what he seemed, or was he just as bad as Kristen said they all were?
Blair is the one that speaks now. “I don’t know what your involvement is with them, but if you’re anywhere near their hallowed halls, be careful. There was an … incident last semester with a pledge at Charter House. Whispers of assault, date rape, that kind of thing. It never came to anything, but there were some guys in Keil and Yardsley that were implicated and threatened with suspension. Then one day, the girl just up and left, no one heard from her again. The rumor is that Gretchen’s family paid her off to keep quiet.”
Of course, I couldn’t confirm or deny that I was pledging, that would be breaking one of Nina’s precious rules. But the meat and seafood in my stomach suddenly soured, thinking about the whispers and the secrets I knew the girls at Charter must be hiding.
And now I’m right in the thick of it, sitting with the rest of the Charter House girls and pledges at the first Jade Mountain basketball game since winter break.
I’ve been to football stadiums in the UK, I’ve experienced rugby matches and games at Wembley, where the crowd is as insane as a bunch of virulent wasps.
But the energy in this arena, the lights and showmanship, is so raw and pure that you can almost taste it. These fans are crazed, I can feel the beads of sweat forming on my back as we get closer to the opening minutes of the game.
“I have to admit, I know absolutely nothing about basketball.”
Amelia leans across Abby. “Lucky for you, it’s pretty simple. Five players on the court from each team at a time. The goal is obviously to get it in the basket. If you shoot it from behind that line, you get three points added to your score. If you are in the lines, it’s two points. Players can get all up in each other’s junk, but not to the point where it gets super physical, then they’ll get a foul. If the ball goes out of bounds, the clock stops. There are a bunch more rules, but bottom line is, they have to get across the court and score a basket in any way possible.”
Okay, sounded a bit like European football, except you could use your hands. It wouldn’t be so hard to follow.
“And are we going to win?”
Abby shrugs. “St. Mary’s is actually pretty good, but we’re undefeated, so we’ll probably smoke ’em. If Colton is hot tonight, which he always is, we’ll kill them.”
My stomach dipped … Colton. Why couldn’t I get that cocky boy out of my head? Oh right, because I’d practically seen him naked last night, and the impressive bulge in his skivvies left little to the imagination. I’d practically crawled back to my dorm room, thankfully Jane hadn’t been there, and had to help myself out with my trusty old vibrator.
Blair’s warning barely registered as I’d played the drinking game with him last night … there was something about him that was too damn blinding, and bloody irresistible. I still didn’t know if I’d act on any of the heavy flirtation going on, but Christ, he was nice to look at.
Rap music blares out of the speakers, and everyone gets to their feet, peering down onto the court below. We have pretty good seats, thanks to the Charter House name I’m sure, and I watch as the Goliaths with our school colors, green and navy, charge out onto the hardwood. Their eyes blaze, their heads are down and bumping in time with the music, the cheers of the crowd charging their batteries past one hundred percent.
I spot him then, dribbling a ball on the far side of the court kind of by himself. He begins to shoot it, making every basket from various points on the floor. It’s like watching an artist paint his canvas, the arc of an arm here, the fluid, elegant motion of his body when he coils and releases. Colton moves like a panther, striking at the exact right moment.
Suddenly, my fingers begin to tingle in anticipation, wanting to see him in action.
“Here we go!” Amelia cheers, and I can see that she is really a fan.
All of the players meet in the center of the court, Colton facing off with one of the St. Mary’s player. The whistle sounds and he jumps, soaring high above the heads of the other men, and sending the ball flying toward his teammates.
It’s even better than I expected, watching him in his element. For the duration of the game, he uses his body and strategy to outmaneuver the opposing team. This man, a formidable machine out there, scores point after point after point. My heart is in my throat following his path down the court.
If it’s possible, Blair’s warning goes right in one ear and out the other. Because after seeing how passionate he is, how skilled he is … I’m just about ready to let him catch me the way he said he would the next time we meet.
Fifteen
Eloise
The weeks fly by from January and into February, the weather in Vermont not letting up even with all of my hoping and wishing.
The temperatures are frigid, and I consider flying to Bermuda or one of the closer Caribbean islands for a long weekend. But surprisingly, my coursework is a little more extensive than I thought it would be. Blair and I have to complete a project that requires us to drive to dozens of surrounding wineries in the area, and it takes us longer than expected, using up weekends that I thought I’d be spending in my room.
Between those trips and completing tasks for Charter House, my time has flown out the window. Figuring out how to hang my thong from the flag pole, ditching out on a check in one of the fanciest restaurants in Thistle, and having to clean the toilets with a toothbrush haven’t exactly been my idea of fun, but they have brought me one step closer to potentially being in the social club.
Which I don’t even know if I want, but my mind is still hot on the trail of those rumors, and if I can protect the other three girls pledging with me, I’ll stay on until at least I know they’re safe and inducted … out of harm’s way. The more I participate, the more I realize I don’t really want to be a part of Gretchen and her crew, but it’s too enticing not to find out what might be at the end of the rainbow.
Case in point, my coming tonight. Valentine’s Day isn’t really the Hallmark holiday in Europe that it is in the States, but we still like to get romantic on this day.
I’ve never been one to get all legless over flowers and chocolate, and to be honest, I’ve never really had a Valentine’s Day date. Sure, I’ve had flings and boys who have lasted more than one night, but relationships really hadn’t been my thing. There was just no one I was so interested in that I’d felt the need to commit more to … and perhaps that was a problem.
“Do another shot with me!” Abby throws her arm around my neck, laughing and smelling of strawberry vodka.
I sip my love punch, the drink of the night, and feel the buzz suffuse me. “Sure, why not? If you can’t be in love, you might as well be pissed!”
This was my motto tonight, especially since Colton had walked into the mixer between the social clubs with another girl. A tall, leggy brunette with hair down to her butt, and a stomach so flat it could double as an ironing board.
I wasn’t jealous … and I’d deny I was if anyone asked me. Not that they had, he wasn’t mine and I had no claim. But over the past weeks, when he’d seen me on campus or at a party, he’d made it a point to come up and talk to me. I’d gone to the most amount of basketball games I’d ever attended in my life, and it wasn’t because I wanted to see our unbeaten record preserved.
“Is she prettier than me?” The doubt creeps in to my voice as I point, one eye open to focus, at the girl cozied up to Colton.
Abby glances at the Amazonian.
“Um, are you kidding? No! You’re way prettier. You’re like some kind of ice princess model, I’d kill to look like you.”
I snickered, the comparison funny to my drunken brain. “Well, don’t actually kill me.”
“Okay, maybe I’d just chop off your hair and make extensions of it.” She shrugged, handing me a Jell-O shot.
We slammed them back, my head swimming from the quick motion. “Note to self, don’t fall asleep in the same room as Abby.”
The sudden urge to pee comes over me, and I tell her rather loudly that I’m off to find the toilet.
This Valentine’s Day mixer is at Yardsley House, and I’m unfamiliar with the territory. Wandering up to the second floor, where maybe I’ll find an unoccupied bathroom, I begin to search the halls.
I randomly flip open doors, hoping for my bladder’s sake that I score a loo sometime soon.
Muffled sounds came from a room just down the hall, and the Jell-O shots were causing my legs to move of their own accord. An impending sense of doom washes over me, and I ignore the instinct that tells me to go back downstairs, leave whatever this is alone.
Instead, my fingers close around the pewter knob on a nearby door, and push it in.
Two figures maneuver on the bed, what they’re doing is no secret to anyone watching. And that’s when the boy looks up. Cropped blond hair, khaki pants around his ankles … Gretchen’s boyfriend Daniel stares straight at me.
Except underneath him is not the president of Charter House … but her good friend, Ciara.
“Get the hell out!” Daniel’s clipped Boston accent yells at me.
“Eloise …” Ciara’s voice is both angry and pleading.
I turn on my heel before the image of Daniel buried deep within his girlfriend’s best friend can sear itself into my brain anymore. I’m practically running down the stairs when a hand catches my arm, and Colton materializes in front of me.
Elite Page 6
