The Princess and the Bully (Goldsworthy University Book 1)

by Tiffany Ransier

  With a gasp, I open my mouth and water pours in. I tap the hand on my head to show I give. That this is enough. But it does nothing.

  No. Callan. I scratch hard at the gloved hand and try with all of my strength to move it off my head. But it’s no use. This hand isn’t moving. It never had any intention of moving.

  But I haven’t gotten my memories from that night back. I still have to try and remember.

  “Callan!” I scream under the water. There’s no use in trying to keep my mouth closed now.

  Everything hurts. It’s too much. And I can’t fight anymore. I close my eyes and everything leading up to this point flashes in my head. Being told I’m coming here, meeting Heath, meeting Scarlett and Peyton, and Callan. The anger inside of him. His hate for me, it’s all come down to this.

  He’s ending the game.

  His cold blue eyes are the last thing I see in my mind as everything drifts away.

  Wet. Something on my lips is wet, and kind of warm too?

  A harsh cough forces itself out of me, causing my eyes to open as the water occupying my stomach forcefully ejects itself out. God. I suck in a deep breath. Ouch, fuck. I clutch my chest and look around, trying to figure out where I am when it all floods back to me.

  The lake is only a few feet away. Callan must have dragged me out and…did CPR?

  “Are you okay?” a gruff voice asks. Jumping out of my skin, I tilt my head back to find not Callan, but Kane Silverstone. He raises an eyebrow. “Well? You good? Or do I need to drive you to the emergency room? You know crazy people are there during Halloween.”

  I stare down at my wrinkly hands. “Are you the one that tried to drown me?”

  He snorts. “Why would I try to drown you and then offer to take you to the hospital? No.”

  “It’s just, you’re dressed like the guy.”

  “Yeah, I know. I was watching the whole thing. I’m a pretty observant guy. I’ve seen a lot of things I probably shouldn’t have seen.” He leans down, offering his hand for me to grab, so I do. “I spotted someone following you and decided to follow him. I’m always keeping an eye on Goldsworthy, you know. I really thought it was him. Don’t think he knew I was there. I thought maybe he was playing a fucked up game with you.”

  “So you know about his games?”

  “Everyone knows. But then I realized, he couldn’t possibly do this. He wants answers and as far as he knows, you’re the only one with them.”

  Something about his statement strikes a chord in me.

  “Wait. So do you know something?” I ask, staring into his eyes.

  A slow smile spreads across his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Well if you do, you need to tell the police,” I say excitedly, “and you know, get Callan off my fucking back.”

  He takes a few steps closer in a flash and puts a finger to my lips and taps his ear. “There could be ears listening. Anyway, the guy heard me coming and swam to the right and disappeared. I almost followed him, but I figured saving your life was more important.”

  “Well, thank you for eventually stepping in,” I say wryly.

  Ring ring.

  Oh shit, that’s my phone. I run up the shore and grab it. My screen protector is putting in work tonight. It’s Scarlett. I click answer and she starts speaking fast, “Mera? What’s going on? I’ve been calling and you didn’t answer. Peyton and I are at ZDB and you’re twenty minutes late. I thought something happened to you so I tracked down that asshole Goldsworthy.”

  “You did what?”

  “Yeah, he’s standing right in front of me right now.” Her voice lowers. “And he’s with some orange haired bitch who keeps sneering at me.”

  In the background, I hear, “Ginger. My name is Ginger, you red-haired bitch.”

  Scarlett chuckles. “Okay. Okay. Mera, babe, I’m going to hang up now so I can stomp a bitch into the ground. Call me a bitch, one more time!”

  The line goes dead.

  “Guess I better get you back,” Kane muses.

  “You heard that?”

  “How could I not? Your friend is fiery. She reminds me a lot of someone else,” he says, turning around and walking up the shore.

  “Who?” I ask, utterly confused.

  He shrugs and mysteriously responds, “Can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  I follow behind him, staring at his back. Every encounter with this guy is strange, but I guess the first thing he said to me wasn’t a lie.

  That night at the third round of hazing.

  He parted the crowd like he was a God. His subjects looked at him in fear. Not even the girls wanted to look at him. But I did.

  And I think that’s what made him come toward me. He said “Don’t be like everyone else. You’ll always want me on your side.”

  And I guess he wasn’t wrong.

  But he’s surprisingly not as horrible as everyone makes him seem. We like a lot of the same bands and he even binges teen dramas like I do.

  I’m laughing so hard at his jokes and quips that I barely notice the stares and whispers we get. I know I look like a hot mess. My perfect makeup has to be ruined and I’m still soaking wet with this stupid wig hanging like a damp cloth. Kane, on the other hand, quite possibly looks hotter than he usually does with his black shirt clinging to the six pack I saw in all its glory. His dark hair, normally styled well, is hanging at his temples.

  He slows to a stop as we reach Sorority Row, so I stop too. “What’s going on?”

  He smirks. “Before we get there, can you hold out your hand for me?”

  I give him a questioning look. “Uh, sure.” I’m not sure what he needs it for.

  He reaches behind himself and pulls out a black Sharpie. With his lips, he pulls the cap off and starts to write on my arm.

  Kane Silverstone.

  The fuck? His hand grips my wrist. “Stay still.” Underneath his name, he writes down a phone number.

  “You know, I could’ve just put your phone number in my phone right?”

  He grins and his eyes shoot up to mine. “That would’ve been smart, huh?” After capping it, he shoves it back in his pocket and continues onward.

  When we get there, my jaw drops as I note all of the people hanging around the steps and the sidewalk next to it.

  Almost every single goddamn person I know. Jamie, Jamie’s roommate, Brandie, Callan and his friends, Collette and her friends, and Scarlett and Peyton. Not a Ginger in sight.

  “Silverstone?”

  “Mera’s with him?”

  “Why do they both look like they’ve just come out of a swimming pool?”

  Scarlett and Peyton are the first to walk through the crowd of people. Scar’s hair for her maid outfit is a little crazy. I’m guessing that was Ginger’s work.

  “I was worried about you. What the hell happened, girl?”

  “Me too. Did you guys take…a shower together with your clothes on? Or go swimming with them on?” Peyton asks, looking between us.

  Heat rises to my cheeks and I glance over to Kane, who doesn’t respond. His smile grows wider and I blurt, “No. There was an accident and–”

  “What kind of accident?” Gemma pipes up. She moves her glasses closer to her face and studies me up and down intently.

  “It doesn’t matter, because I saved her,” Kane responds with a sly smile.

  A tall body steps between Scar and Peyton and I grimace when I see it’s him. But he isn’t even looking my way.

  “Saved her how?” Callan asks, scowling at Kane.

  He smirks. “I gave her CPR. Those lips of hers were really soft and wet.”

  Callan’s eyes darken for a moment. So quickly, I could’ve easily missed it. A slow smile spreads across his face as he nods and rubs a hand over his chin. “I’m sure they were, after coming out of the lake I’m assuming? But you know, you’ll never feel how wet her other lips get.”

  My jaw drops open and I feel the flush climbing up my neck. Oh my God, he didn’t just say that in
front of everyone. He moves between us with a satisfied expression, slamming his shoulder into Kane’s and making no apologies as he leaves down the sidewalk.

  “Did he just say what I thought he said?” Collette murmurs.

  Noel hoots. “That’s my boy.”

  If I had even a sliver of dignity left, it just went out the window.

  Suddenly, everything seems so overwhelming.

  Callan and his friends scaring me, almost drowning, the embarrassment, Kane. Everything starts to spin around me as I make a path through everyone, stumbling up the steps.

  “Mera?” Scarlett asks, following close behind me.

  “See you around, Mera,” Kane calls as I walk in the door.

  My chest aches as I breathe erratically all the way up the stairs to my room. A few seconds later, Scarlett and Peyton both come in.

  “Did you and Goldsworthy fuck?” Scarlett asks as I yank the wig off.

  “No,” I manage to say as I flop down on my bed.

  Peyton clears his throat. “Well, what exactly is going on between you guys?”

  I steady my breathing and glance at the mirror against the wall.

  I wish I knew.

  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how Callan’s fingers were inside me. God, my face is heating up all over again. I’ve been trying not to think about it. It helps that he’s been skipping class again. But every time I do think about it, I keep remembering the moans that escaped my mouth. It hurt at first, but that feeling went away quickly. The only thing left was pleasure. No matter how much my brain said no, my body was practically begging him for more.

  My panties were soaked on the way back to the dorm.

  I tighten my thighs together as that tingling feeling starts again.

  “Nothing.”

  Peyton raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t question me further.

  Scarlett rubs my back. “Just don’t let him get under your skin. The Goldsworthys are trash and the Silverstones are no better.”

  It’s too late, I want to say. He’s already gotten under my skin.

  One thing’s for sure, I still utterly despise him. That petition that he started needs 894 more signatures and then it’ll go to the board.

  Why is everything so completely out of control?

  Chapter Ten

  Callan

  All night long, I stayed awake. I kept seeing her and wondering what led up to her needing CPR. Ironic that Silverstone of all people was the one to save her.

  We were just with her.

  He got to touch that silky smooth skin of hers.

  Why does that bother me so much? It shouldn’t. All night long those same thoughts circled around in my brain, like a record. I sketched in my sketchpad, but every single damn time, I always ended up drawing her.

  Her smiling when she’s walking with her friends. Her angry glares when she notices me. The fear that lurks inside in the deepest part of her fierce eyes when I play my game with her.

  By the time it’s almost dawn, I’m so worked up I skip breakfast. I know her class routine by heart so I know she walks in the science building every Thursday exactly at 7:15 for her Bio class at 8. She sits in the lounge area before her class starts on her laptop, watching some drama show.

  If she ever looked over her shoulder, she’d see me, but she never does.

  Today, she will.

  I walk in the side entrance of the building with my backpack on one shoulder and stride down the hall. In the distance, I can see her sitting with her legs crossed in the lounge chair and her Mac on her lap. There are only two other people in the lounge. One girl is passed out on the couch and the girl next to her is writing something in a journal.

  Today, unlike other days, I don’t make my steps quiet. And when I slow to a stop next to her, she glances up with her earbuds in, obviously expecting to see someone else as her smile turns to a frown.

  She reaches up with her left hand, tugging on the cord slightly, pulling her earbuds out. “What do you want?”

  I open my mouth to respond, when something catches my eye. Something is slightly faded on the top of her left hand. What the fuck is that?

  I reach down and grab her hand and hold it up under the fluorescent lights.

  Son of a bitch. Kane Silverstone is scrawled in that bastard’s handwriting with his number underneath. Did he do that after I left or did I just not notice it?

  Gritting my teeth, I move my fingers over the mark roughly.

  “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” she snaps.

  He must have used a fucking Sharpie. I don’t respond, feeling the anger surge and roll over me as I yank her up out of her seat. She tries to go dead weight, but when she sees I have no interest in letting her go, she grudgingly goes along as I drag her down the hall by her wrist.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  I stop in front of the bathroom and push my hand against the door, bringing her to the sinks.

  “Are you fucking serious? He just wanted to give me his number.”

  Ignoring her, I focus on soaping her hand and scrubbing it until that damn mark is gone. A few guys come in. Even though I can hear them pissing I know they’re taking longer than necessary just to be nosy as fuck.

  It takes a few scrubs, and her hand is unblemished once more. I run her hand under the water to rinse the soap off completely.

  It’s done, but I don’t feel satisfied yet. Not one bit.

  Fuck. I stare down at her hand and think about Silverstone’s smug face as he wrote his number down. He did this so I’d see it. I know it. Fucker.

  “Can I go now?” she asks with an annoyed tone in her voice.

  “No,” I state, looking up into her eyes.

  Her eyebrows furrow and she digs her phone out of her pocket with her other hand. Her glossed lips pout slightly. “I have class in thirty-five minutes.” She tilts her head back and stares at me. Whatever she sees makes her eyes widen slightly and that flash of fear goes through them.

  I was going to fuck her, but I think I have a better idea. Something I’ve been saving.

  “There’s plenty of time,” I mutter, tugging her with me as we leave the bathroom and go back to the lounge. I stop in front of her chair and let go of her wrist. “Pick your stuff up.”

  She scowls, rubbing her wrist. “No. I’m not interested in playing your games today.”

  I back her into the wall next to her chair. She lets out a gasp as I push my leg between hers and grab her neck, leaning down to her ear. “Pick it up and come with me before I do what I’m going to do in this lounge for everyone to see.”

  She gulps and nods slightly.

  Good.

  I back off enough for her to put her laptop away and put her bag over her shoulder.

  “Lead the way,” she says with a sigh.

  “Fine.” I glance over at her as she walks slightly behind me.

  As I’m about to turn the corner, I watch her dart off to the last door on the left, her teacher’s room and turn the handle.

  But she isn’t fast enough, because my hand is already on her arm, and I’m not letting it go.

  “That hurts,” she complains with a wince.

  “And now, you really do need to be punished.” I grab her bag off her shoulder and put it over mine. “Now you have no choice but to follow me.”

  I turn the corner and walk to the end of the hall to the first door on the right. I’ve been scoping rooms out for this exact purpose. There’s no window on the door and no one ever uses this one because the electricity outlets don’t work. You’d think a super rich school like this would fix them, but no. My dad is a fucking cheapskate when it comes to this school.

  When she enters, I lock the door behind her and throw our bags to the floor.

  She crosses her arms and glares. “And you know what, I think you’re the one who needs a punishment. How fucking dare you tell everyone what you did to me? You made it seem like I wanted that. I didn’t enjoy it one bit.”

&nbs
p; Snickering, I approach her slowly and edge her back into a table. “You might not have wanted it, but you sure as fuck enjoyed it, princess. Don’t lie to me.”

  Her mouth thins as she looks away. I tilt her chin up so she meets my eyes. “Should we test it out? It’s been a few weeks since then.”

  She shakes her head quickly. “No. I don’t want to.”

  “But bad girls deserve to be punished. You tried to run away when you could’ve come quietly.”

  “I will never come quietly to you, Callan.” She wrenches her chin out of my grasp.

  My last ounce of control snaps with those words. I slip my thumbs into her yoga pants and hook them around the straps of her underwear. Together, her panties and pants come down. She gasps and pushes her hand against my chest. “Stop it!”

  In one smooth motion, I pick her up by her thighs and throw her onto the table behind her. She tightens her thighs together, but I pry them open with brute force.

  “I’m not blindfolding you this time, princess. You’re going to see exactly what I do and how I do it.”

  I place my index finger at her folds and tease them slowly. “Just stop this. I don’t know what happened to Heath.”

  This isn’t about Heath.

  But I don’t say it.

  I thrust my finger into her and she gasps and jumps slightly at the intrusion. “You’re fucking tight.”

  She bites her lip and looks away.

  That won’t do.

  I pull my finger out and thrust it back in, several times, earning a muffled moan each time.

  My cock jumps in my pants and I add another finger. Her back arches as tiny pants leave her mouth. “Please…”

  “Please what?”

  “Stop.”

  “Really? Okay.” I yank my fingers out, completely covered in her, and study them. Took her less time to get wet.

  “Oh thank God,” she breathes.

  I eye her wetness on my fingers and bring them to my mouth. “W-what are you doing?”

  Our eyes stay locked as my mouth opens, letting her wetness touch my tongue for the first time. Her taste is everything I thought it would be, musky and so damn sweet. But it’s so muted. I need more, directly from the source. As I pull my fingers out, she makes a small noise in the back of her throat.