by Fox, Logan
Damn. Pity I missed all the fun.
After a shower and Marcus’s cup of coffee, I can at least stand the thought of leaving my shelter.
“Driving with me?” I ask.
“Fuck yes.” Marcus detours to his SUV and grabs out his sunglasses before going to my Mustang’s passenger side. “I’m even considering skipping.”
“Nah, come on,” I say, opening my door and sliding in. “We got a newbie to torture, remember? Don’t want her thinking we’re backing off, do we?”
“Forgot about her,” Marcus says. He puffs at his vape as soon as I put my car into gear, and doesn’t let up until we reach Lavish Prep.
By then the coffee’s kicked in, and if I keep my sunglasses on it doesn’t feel like the sun’s trying to scoop out my eyeballs with a spoon.
We’re late, so the steps are empty.
“They’d have locked already,” Marcus murmurs.
For a moment, I’m real fucking tempted to turn back. But I meant what I said — I’m not letting up on Indi any time soon. The whole drive over here, she filled my mind. How she looked on her knees in front of me. I can’t help picturing her naked, her mouth open real wide, waiting for my cock like the obedient toy she is.
After days and days of torture, I’m sure Indi will be more than happy to surrender herself to me.
I deserve nothing less.
She deserves nothing more.
“Earth to Briar?”
“What?”
“Christ, I don’t know what you think you’re gonna accomplish today, but I suggest you lower your expectations, bro. Like drastically.”
I snort at him, and gesture around the building. “The gym door should be open. You know how coach likes his fresh air.”
Marcus sniffs at himself. “Ain’t gonna have much of that if he catches a whiff of either of us.”
We’re both still chuckling as we head for the side of Lavish Prep’s massive building.
I’m coming, my toy. Hope you’ve had a good night’s rest, because this is gonna be one taxing day for you.
Chapter Eleven
Indi
I lay awake for hours last night wondering what Briar had in store for me today. But I’ve been in homeroom for more than ten minutes and he hasn’t even bothered looking up at me.
He’s busy on his phone, and there’s that same frustrated frown on his face.
I sit back in my seat and force myself to face Ms. Parsons as she starts off with some announcements. She hasn’t mentioned the buddy thing again, but I have a feeling that she’ll keep that for the end of class if she plans on bringing it up.
“Good morning, Indi.”
I flinch, recognizing the voice, but unable to process those polite words. I turn in my chair, and scowl suspiciously at Briar. “What do you want?”
I discretely move my feet to make sure he hasn’t somehow managed to tie my laces again, and then casually run my fingers through my hair in case I missed any early morning spitballs.
Briar’s smiling. It looks genuine, and that’s extremely concerning. Then again, he’s wearing shades, so maybe that’s why he has me fooled. That grin makes me think he knows something I don’t.
I feel a nervous tic coming on.
“You rushed off so fast yesterday, I never got to find out how my Lavish Buddy enjoyed her first day.”
“Which part?” I snap, cocking my head at him and not bothering to lower my voice. “The part where you had me on my knees, or where your friend decided to spit in my hair?”
I realize my mistake immediately. Phrasing, for one. Two, whose class we’re in.
“Children?”
I catch Briar suppressing a smile behind a big hand as he sits back in his chair, but Ms. Parsons already has a hand on my shoulder, turning me to face her. “Is everything all right, Indigo?”
“Indi.”
Parsons nods. “Indi?”
“Everything’s fine, Ms. Parsons.”
She tilts her head like I’m covered with spots and still trying to deny the fact that I have measles. “You can always talk to me, Indi. That’s what guidance counselors are for.”
There’s a faint snigger from somewhere in the back of the class. I catch a few words, enough to make me blush. Something about asking her how one goes about losing my virginity. Someone else said Briar would sort me out, no problem.
“I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth. Ms. Parsons shakes her head, and then looks past me at Briar.
“You should take Indi to the stables during your free period today.” Then she looks back at me. “Your transcript said you enjoyed horse riding. I’m sure Briar would love to take you for a ride.”
The class bursts out laughing. Ms. Parsons hurriedly straightens, and then adjusts her tortoiseshell glasses as if the sudden movement knocked them awry. “Quieten down, class. There’s nothing funny about feeling out of your element at a new school.”
“Really, I’m fine. I don’t want to go—”
Ms. Parsons turns to me, her little rosebud mouth pursed with disapproval. “Horses are very therapeutic.”
“I don’t want—”
“Well, I insist.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Lavish expects its students to be fully involved in everything the school has to offer.” She gestures toward Briar with a limp hand. “Briar’s a wonderful rider, and I’m sure you’d love to see—”
The class erupts into fits of laughter. Ms. Parsons blushes furiously, but surprisingly, stands her ground. “To see the rest of the school.”
Goddamnit Parsons. It would be a real dick move for me to refuse and embarrass her further. I mean, I’m even starting to blush just imagining Briar and willowy Ms. Parsons rutting like animals against the blackboard with their—
Woah, Indi! No.
Now my cheeks are on fire too.
“Okay,” I say in a strangled voice. “I’ll go.”
“Good.” Ms. Parsons nod firmly, makes a point of not looking in Briar’s direction, and then goes back to her desk and starts eating an apple with such determination, I wonder if she’s maybe a closet stress eater-cum-bulimic.
“I’m gonna enjoy riding you,” Briar says, just loud enough for me to hear.
“You mean riding with me,” I correct him, my focus still on Ms. Parson’s squirrelly little bites.
“Not even a little.”
I turn to him, but he’s decided something on his phone is more important than being the subject of my wrath.
I glance at my class timetable. Two classes, a free period, then one class before lunch.
Oh wait. There’s a typo on my schedule. I tilt my head to the side and shove the timetable into my blazer pocket. Free period is meant to say ‘horse riding with Briar’.
Don’t get me wrong — the thought of getting in a few minutes on horseback sounds like heaven. It wasn’t just me being smarmy on my transcript — I do love horse riding. And, luckily, it was an elective at my last school. I refuse to do dressage or jumping or any of that craziness, but just riding was an awesome experience.
Maybe I can race away from Briar, lose him on the grounds, and get the rest of the period to myself.
I risk a quick glance behind me. Briar’s got his arms crossed over his chest, muscles bulging against his blazer and a smirk all over his face. Is it just me, or his hair a little more tousled than normal? It would be nice if he had a sleepless night too.
A girl can dream, right?
* * *
Briar
I must admit, I’m kinda surprised when Indigo arrives at the stables. I thought she’d hide in the bathrooms until the period was over. I even messaged my crew, putting them on alert in case I needed them to go root her out. This couldn’t have been a better way to get Indi’s guard down than if I’d planned it myself. I think I’ll send Ms. Parsons a gift when I get home. I do so love to make that teacher blush.
“Pick your poison,” I say, sweeping my arm over the row of stabled horses. These aren’t your tee
nage girl’s ponies. Every horse in the stable is a thoroughbred with more certifications and paperwork than a surgeon.
Lavish Prep takes three things very seriously.
Football.
The chess club.
And their horses.
Bit of a mixed bag, agreed. But the faculty is pretty eclectic, so I guess it makes sense.
Indigo looks past me, crosses her arms, and gives me a smug little smile. “I forgot to mention…” She tugs at the hem of her skirt, showing off an extra inch of her thighs.
I swallow, and force myself to keep my gaze fixed on her eyes instead of letting them slide down her dainty little body. “That you’re a girl?” I say, cocking an eyebrow at her. “I believe I’ve already confirmed that.”
“I can’t ride in a skirt.” She turns around and gives me a little wave over her shoulder. “Suck it, loser.”
She doesn’t make it very far. When I grab her around the waist and spin her around, she lets out a squeal that does Neanderthal things to my body. I shove her away, but not hard enough for her to fall, and regret that I held back when she spins to face me wearing a scowl. “What the hell?”
“Don’t you know you can’t postpone a date with the devil?” I say, showing her my teeth.
I don’t like the way my heart’s knocking against my ribs or how I got a semi back there for the brief moment our bodies connected. This girl is trouble. I should just let her go already so I can get my head back in the game. Fuck it, I think the only reason I ended up drinking so much last night was because of her. To get her out of my fucking head. Didn’t do me any good — the only thing I seemed capable of expending mental energy on was figuring out ways to harass Indi.
“I’ll get a fucking rash if I—” she begins, but cuts off when I swarm past her.
Lavish thought of everything, of course, girls in skirts included. I open one of the lockers inside the stable and pull out a pair of leggings.
Indigo snatches it when I toss it at her and glares at me.
She looks around, her glare slowly fading. “Where’s the—?”
“Changing room?” I cut in with a smirk. “There isn’t one. But I promise, I won’t look.” I turn around, crossing my arms over my chest, and wait.
Indi makes an angry sound, but sure as shit, there’s the sound of rustling fabric a moment later.
When I look over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of one ass cheek before she sees me looking.
“Briar!”
I chuckle and straighten again. “Hurry up, virgin. There’s a fuck load of shit to see.”
She grumbles something under her breath, and walks down the stalls, touching the noses of the horses who are looking over their doors. She takes her time, and I couldn’t be gladder.
For some reason, my cock decided that glimpse of her ass was good enough to rouse it from sleep. I shift my weight, willing my dick to stop being so full of itself.
The only way I get that right is by forcing the thought of Indi’s smooth skin out of my mind.
Christ. Soon, one of us is going to break. I was convinced it would be her…but I’m starting to think I overestimated my self-control.
* * *
Indi
I fidget on my saddle, trying to hook my underwear out of my ass crack.
Leggings suck. Not only does this pair cling like nobody’s fucking business, but they’re causing serious tension between the two halves of my ass. Peace talks broke down as soon as I hoisted myself onto my gelding’s back, ignoring Briar’s suspiciously gentleman-like stirrup he made with his hands.
Now? A minute into our ride and my ass crack is the fucking Gaza strip.
“Show jumping, right?”
I pluck away my hand out from under my skirt, fully aware that Briar caught me trying to adjust my panties, and tighten my grip on the reins. “Please,” I mutter, for a moment too flustered to be snarky.
“Dressage?”
When I look across at him, I can’t help but laugh at the disgusted look on his face. I pat the side of my horse’s neck. “This,” I say. “Just this.”
“Leisure rides?”
I shrug a little and squint into the distance. “They said I was too big to be a jockey.”
This time, Briar lets out a snorting laugh, and looks half-surprised at himself when I glance at him. “You? Really?”
“Turns out they only employ midgets and dwarves,” I say.
I never applied to be a jockey, of course. I like galloping, but for me it’s more about spending time with horses. I’ve always loved them — whipping them into a frenzy just to win a fucking trophy? Hard pass.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Briar says quietly.
I frown a little, and peek at him from the corner of my eyes. He insisted I put on a helmet, which I’m glad I did because it’s doing a good job of shielding my eyes. He left his blazer back at the stable, as had I, but he still looks every inch a natural with his blond hair sticking out from under his helmet.
“Why’d you think that?”
“Because you hate everything and everyone,” he says deadpan. He turns to me with an eyebrow cocked. “Am I wrong?”
“I don’t hate everyone.” I lift one side of my mouth. “I just hate jocks suffering with Short Dick Syndrome.”
He lets out a rough laugh. “Yeah, that’s not it, Angel” he says, but more to himself than me.
“So you’re not an asshole because your pinkie’s bigger than your penis?” I ask, blinking innocently at him.
Another laugh, but this time he deigns not to answer me. Instead, he glances behind us and then ahead, squinting like a cowboy in one of those spaghetti Westerns.
I must admit, I’m kinda glad I wussed out and came. Initially, it was just to tell Briar off — using my lack of pants as an excuse — but now that I’m here?
That same feeling of strange familiarity flows over me. I lose myself to my gelding’s rhythm, letting my hips melt into the saddle.
The breathtaking scenery helps, of course. Lavish Prep is built on a rise, and as soon as we crest it, the suburbs of Lavish spread out in front of us. Everything is so neat, so tiny and tidy, that it feels like I’m looking at a built-to-scale replica instead of the real thing. There’s a mid-morning haze over the town, and the sun’s warm light suffuses everything with amber.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I purse my lips, pissed that Briar dared to break me out of my blissful moment. But when I turn to him, he’s staring at me, not the view.
Did he…was he talking about me?
“Come on,” he says, before I have time to process the thought. “I’ll race you to the tree line.”
The tree line? I look ahead, narrowing my eyes a second before Briar lets out a loud, “Ha!”
His white mare — Princess Snow — lunges forward and breaks into an astonishingly smooth gallop. For a moment, sunlight washes him in a warm glow as he races down the incline. His shirt whips against his hard body, and he glances at me over his shoulder, a fat grin on his face.
My heart feels like it wants to explode from my chest. He’s a fucking good rider. It’s like he was born on horseback. He’s standing in his stirrups, ass a few inches from the saddle as he urges his horse to pick up speed, his entire body moving in time to the creature’s rocking gait.
My gelding tenses between my legs as if it wants to run after its friend.
“Ha!” I dig my heels into my gelding’s ribs. It whinnies at me and, when I loosen up the reins and urge him forward with my knees, he leaps into action.
Hooves thunder over the grass. The wind runs cool fingers over my skin and tugs at my shirt, flattening it against my breasts and tummy as I lean forward.
“Come on!” I yell. I slap the horse’s rump with my hand. “Ha!”
My gelding snorts, ducks its head, and speeds up. Briar made a good start, but since he obviously thought he was in the lead, he didn’t bother to push his mare. But he must have heard my gelding’s hooves
eating up the distance between us because he glances behind him — still wearing that smug grin — and does a double take when he sees how close we are.
I grin to myself, and give my gelding another smack on the rump. “Ha!” Prince Charming flicks his head, and I give him even more rein. He rewards me by gaining another two noses on Briar’s mare.
I can almost reach out and touch Briar’s leg. But instead I give the two horses enough room so they don’t feel crowded, while keeping them close enough that they’d have to be wearing blinkers not to see each other.
And boy does the sight of Prince Charming so close on her heels give Princess Snow a kick up the rear. She tosses her head until Briar gives her some slack and then the little bitch puts a yard between us.
But she’s starting to lather, and I have a feeling Prince Charming’s just about reached the end of his gallop too.
I lean down, my hips sinking and rising with every stretch of the gelding’s legs, and yell out, “Come on, Prince! We can beat them! Faster! Ha!”
Briar glares at me, and I laugh as Prince Charming gains a little.
But then Briar looks ahead, and his face goes blank in shock.
“Indi, stop!” he yells, his reins tightening instantly.
I’m a little slower to react, because I think he’s pulling my fucking leg. So when I do face forward and realize Prince Charming is galloping straight for the fence that surrounds the massive stretch of grassy knolls we’ve been riding around on, jerking back on my reins isn’t good enough.
I dig my knees into his ribs, but even that only seems to encourage him. When I pull on the reins, but he pulls right back.
Fuck! He’s got the bit in his teeth!
How the fuck did I manage to piss off this Prince too?
