Beyond Vengeance: Pacific Prep #3

by R. A. Smyth

  “Perfect,” he breathes. “You can wear clothes like this all the time when you come to live with me. Won’t that be nice?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I’ve learned by now that there’s no point in arguing with him. It’s best if I grin and bear his visits, nodding and agreeing with whatever he says.

  As he tucks my hair behind my shoulder, his cell phone goes off in his pocket, making him frown. The call rings out before starting up again, and he tugs harshly on a strand of my hair as agitation gets the better of him.

  Huffing out a breath, he digs his hand into his pocket, retrieving his phone and moving to the corner of the room, getting as far away from me as possible so he can gain some modicum of privacy before answering the call.

  “Yes,” he hisses, the blatant rage more than obvious.

  Great, I’m going to be the one that pays for this intrusion with brand new bruises on my body.

  I slowly edge toward him, intent on overhearing his conversation.

  “Now isn’t a good time…Yes, I understand my son has been acting out.”

  My eyebrows lift in surprise. He has a son? He’s been coming to see me my whole life, and I know absolutely nothing about him. I don’t even know his fucking name. He’s always insisted on me calling him ‘Sir,’ and he’s never divulged anything about who he is. I stupidly assumed he didn’t have any family. But a son? That could be useful to know. A possible weakness I could use against him.

  I’ve been trained to identify people’s weak spots, and to poke and prod at them until they become gaping holes. The problem is, Sir has never given me anything to work with…until now.

  “Fine,” he snarls, after whoever is on the other end of the line has droned on for several moments, regarding whatever new issue there is with his son. “I’ll speak to Cam. No, I don’t think a meeting with the headmaster is necessary.”

  Now I have a name. It’s not much, but it’s a hell of a lot more than I had this morning.

  Another moment passes where he fumes at whatever the person on the other end is saying. He repeatedly glances my way, as though expecting me to just disappear or jump him—I fucking wish I could, but fear freezes me in place every time I so much as think about taking him on.

  “Listen here,” he growls, furious at whatever is being said to him. Based on his tone alone, I know I’m in for a rough afternoon of slaps and degrading comments as he takes his anger out on me, but right now, I don’t care. I’ll take anything he throws at me if it means I can finally learn something I could use against him. “You seem to have forgotten who you’re talking to. My family is one of the founding families of Pacific Prep. My son can do whatever the hell he wants. He answers to me, and me alone. If you have a problem with that, I’m sure Mr. Phister will happily help you find an alternative place of employment.”

  He hangs up the phone before whoever is on the other end can respond, spinning in his overpriced loafers to face me. His nostrils flare as he grits his teeth, anger consuming him. I hate when he’s like this. He’s terrifying. Completely demonic looking.

  “What are you doing just standing there?” he snarls, startling me into action.

  “S…Sorry.” I lick my lips nervously as I fumble with my hands, frantically trying to stop them from trembling. “C…Can I get you anything?” I ask. “Perhaps a drink?”

  Normally, if I’m not training, I’m in my room; but on visitation days, I’m brought here, to this room with a bed in the corner, a small living area, and a kitchenette. I have no idea how to cook—not that Sir seems to mind—but he loves it when I offer to make him a drink. I don’t understand why, but right now I’d do pretty much anything to tamper down the rage inside of him and ease the onslaught of abuse I know is coming my way.

  I’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s striding toward me, quickly closing the distance between us until his chest is pushing up against mine. His hand wraps around my hair and yanks it back so my neck is bent at an awkward angle.

  “Do you think a drink is going to solve my problems?” He’s so close, spittle hits my cheek as he yells at me.

  His eyes drop down my body, hovering over my heaving chest. With the way he’s stretched my neck, my back is arched, pushing my boobs out in an inviting gesture.

  He growls as he grits his teeth, his grip on my hair tightening to the point of pain, and I bite the inside of my cheek to hold in my whimper.

  “There’s only one thing that would make this better, and your worthless ass can’t give it to me until everything’s in place.”

  Tugging on my hair, he throws me across the room, and I go crashing to the ground, not understanding what he’s talking about. Honestly, the intent behind his words is crystal clear, and whatever the reason he may be holding back, I don’t give a fuck, so long as it keeps him away from me.

  That conversation changed everything. Cam has no idea, but he saved my life that day. I don’t know what he did to instigate that phone call, but regardless of what happens between us, I’ll be forever grateful to him.

  “Hey, where did you go just now?” Mason asks. I hadn’t realized how closely he was watching me. His eyes are filled with concern, and I quickly shake away the thoughts of the past. Lawrence is still an ever-present threat, but I have so much more to fight for now. I’m no longer trapped and, more importantly, I’m no longer alone.

  I press my lips to his in what I intend to be a chaste kiss, a thank you for being here. I don’t know how temporary what I have with him and West will be, but for the time being, I’m glad to have the two of them in my corner.

  He responds immediately, his hand coming to rest on the back of my neck and holding me to him as he deepens the kiss, both of us getting lost in the taste of one another.

  As heat spirals in my lower belly, I shift in his lap, hiking up my dress as I move to straddle him.

  Now this is a much better way to spend the night.

  His hands slide up my thighs and he groans as I grind against his growing erection. Trailing my hands over his shirt until I reach his belt buckle, I deftly undo it and lower his zipper, reaching into his boxers. I wrap my hand around his thick girth, testing the weight of him in my palm. I need to feel him inside me...now. I sit up on my knees, hovering above him as he pushes my panties to the side, and I don’t waste any time lowering myself onto him, my head falling back as he easily slides inside, filling me to the brim.

  We’re both breathing heavily as he fully seats himself, and I look deep into his eyes, the connection between us stronger than ever as the air crackles around us. My pussy clenches with desperate need and he grunts in pleasure as I rock shallowly against him.

  The squeaking of the pool house door has me freezing as I tear my gaze away from Mason’s blissed-out expression to find West standing in the doorway, his pupils dilated at finding us fucking.

  “Don’t mind me,” he purrs huskily, moving to lean against the wall, obviously intending to watch us. Fuck, why does the thought of that make my pussy spasm? Mason groans again as I practically strangle his dick, and his hands move to grip my hips, holding me still as he thrusts into me, setting a faster pace. I moan, my eyes drifting shut as he hits that perfect spot deep inside me.

  I don’t even hear him approaching, but in the next second, I feel a tug on my hair as my head is pulled backward and my eyes snap open, staring up into West’s lust-hazed green ones.

  “Don’t close your eyes,” he growls, his rough voice coated with sinful promises, only making me wetter.

  He releases his hold on my hair, moving to undo the zip at the back of my dress until he can push it down my arms, exposing my breasts. The fabric of the dress made it impossible to wear a bra with it, and my nipples peak as the cool air hits them.

  Mason leans forward to suck one into his mouth as West’s hand once again entangles itself in my hair, pulling until my head is bent back and I’m looking up at him. The angle has me pushing my tit further into Mason’s mouth, my back arching, and Mason’
s dick slides impossibly deeper as my lips part, and a wanton moan escapes me.

  I keep my eyes glued to West as Mason picks up his pace, rapidly sending me toward the edge as he palms a tit in one hand, while sucking and biting on the other.

  My face is flushed as Mason thrusts frantically, every pant a breathy moan. I’m so lost in my pleasure that I don’t hear the door opening, someone new arriving to the party.

  West obviously hears it, though, as his eyes snap up to look at who entered. Mason doesn’t stop his relentless pounding, and I try to turn my head to look at the newcomer, but West’s grip tightens, holding me in place for a second before he uses his firm hold to turn my head, so I can see Cam standing slack-jawed in the doorway, looking both unsure and turned on.

  My eyes drop to his crotch, taking in the noticeable bulge, and fuck me. Even though we agreed to just be friends, the way he’s looking at me, and the dirty thoughts I’m having about him joining in, are anything but friendly.

  My pussy spasms as I picture him closing the distance and slamming his lips against mine—oh, how I’ve missed the taste of him—and Mason groans.

  “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna blow if you keep doing that.”

  Cam stares transfixed at the three of us, frozen in the doorway.

  “Well, are you in or out?” West barks impatiently.

  Cam’s eyes widen in surprise, not having expected the invitation, his gaze bouncing between all three of us—not that Mason is paying him any attention as he licks along the column of my neck, rolling my nipple between his fingers as I buck against him. Between his magical dick, hot mouth, and talented fingers; plus, West’s controlling nature; and feeling Cam’s eyes on me, I’m about to combust.

  “I…”

  Even though I know what his answer will be, I’m still wracked with disappointment as he shakes his head.

  He doesn’t get a chance to turn me down with words, as Hawk storms into the pool house next—great, now it’s a fucking party—his eyes widening to the size of saucers at what he sees.

  “What the fuck?” he roars, slamming his hand over his eyes and quickly turning around. “Someone tell me I didn’t see what I think I saw,” he growls furiously.

  I try to climb off Mason’s lap, but West is still holding tight to my hair, and as I attempt to move, Mason’s hands grip my hips, cementing me in place so he can continue slamming into me, unfazed by Hawk’s presence.

  “Get out if you don’t want to see it.” His words come out in an angry snap, but the breathless quality as he maintains his relentless pace, not sparing Hawk a seconds glance, shows where all of his focus is right now.

  Mason circles his hips, the move causing him to grind against my clit, and my eyes fall closed as I bite my lip to hold back a moan, fairly certain Hawk won’t appreciate that.

  Hawk’s voice is nothing but background noise as he rants before storming out, and when I crack open an eyelid, both he and Cam are gone.

  West directs my head so I’m looking up at him standing behind me.

  “Forget about him,” he says softly, referring to Cam, before he seals his lips to mine in an all-consuming kiss.

  Mason’s fingers move to rub my clit and that light touch is the final straw as I come apart on his dick, crying out my release while staring into West’s lustful gaze. I feel Mason swell within me after another couple of thrusts, his seed hitting my inner walls.

  “So beautiful,” West murmurs, his lips brushing over mine.

  Knowing it won’t be long before someone other than one of the guys comes searching for us, we quickly clean up and redress, reluctantly heading back to the party.

  West and Mason disappear into the crowd, leaving me alone as I do a loop around the room, smiling politely at people before hurrying off through the crowd in a vain attempt to avoid getting dragged into any unwanted conversations.

  I can’t find my mother, which suits me perfectly fine, but I do catch sight of Lawrence at the far end of the room, his eyes trailing my every move like laser beams, making my skin itch with the intensity of his gaze.

  Shivering, I move as far away from him as possible, ensuring enough people are between us that he can’t see me as I head to the bar, ordering a coke with ice. I sit and watch the party going on around me, picking out each of the guys, all of whom are stuck in various conversations, looking as bored as I feel. As I sip on my drink, I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, hear the whispers behind their hands as they speculate about where I’ve been all these years.

  I’m only halfway through my drink when I’m unable to take it any longer. Staying in one place is the worst thing I can do. It’s better if I’m constantly circulating through the crowd. At least that way, I won’t feel the eyes on me as much.

  Getting to my feet, I push my way through the gawking herd, already needing another break from all of this bullshit. Just when I think things couldn’t get any worse, Bianca steps up to me, an ugly snarl on her face. “Don’t think just because your surname happens to be Davenport that you’re no longer trash,” she sneers. “Someone like you isn’t worthy of such a name.”

  “And you are?” I laugh coldly.

  She scowls. “You don’t deserve it,” she whines, like the entitled bitch she is. “I’ve been doing everything the Princes want for years, and you just waltz in here and get handed everything I’ve worked for? It’s not fair!”

  I’m surprised she doesn’t stamp her feet like a two-year-old having a fucking tantrum.

  “Life isn’t fair,” I snap, getting irritated. She thinks just because she bent over and swallowed their dicks when demanded that she deserves to be given one of their surnames?

  I tilt my head slightly, thinking. “You’re a self-centered bitch, and I think it's past time someone reminded you of your place.” An evil smile plays at the corner of my lips as I step in close to her, my heels meaning, for once, we’re eye to eye. “I’ve wanted to slap that pretentious fucking look off your face since the first day we met,” I tell her quietly enough that no one nearby can overhear us. Her eyes widen. Is she seriously surprised at my admission? “And now I have the immunity to do it.” She gulps, and I’m certain her face has paled, not that you can see it under her layers of makeup. “I may be trash, but I’m trash that can do whatever the fuck she wants,” I say sweetly, a wide grin on my face that I’m sure looks maniacal.

  Oh yeah. I think I might have found a silver lining to this whole Davenport name bullshit.

  ***

  It’s later that night, and I’m contemplating the appeal of alcohol—God knows you need something to drown out the boring as fuck conversations—when I recognize West’s father as he comes hobbling toward me, his pudgy belly straining the buttons of his shirt. His cheeks are ruddy from too much alcohol and sweat clings to his temples.

  “Elizabeth, it’s so great to meet you. I’m Wilbert, Westley’s father.” His words make me think he doesn’t remember meeting me before. Of course, I was only his son's whore that night, so why would he?

  “You’re quite a beautiful young lady, aren’t you?” I don’t miss the way his eyes heat as his gaze lingers on my tits. What is with all these rich assholes being sleazy perverts?

  With absolutely no shame, he licks his lips, subtly adjusting himself in his pants. Fucking gross. It takes everything in me not to wrinkle my nose in disgust, not that his gaze ever ventures further north than my chest, as he continues on with his conversation.

  “The day you disappeared was a very sad day indeed,” he goes on, nodding his head in agreement with himself. “We were all very worried.”

  Yes, it sure seems that way.

  “What happened?” I ask, deciding I may as well try and get some information out of him. I’m hoping the alcohol I can smell on his breath might loosen his lips enough to let slip something that could be of use.

  “Oh, I couldn’t say.” Wrinkles form across his forehead as his eyebrows draw together and he frowns. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Of c
ourse,” I agree easily. “But it must have come as a shock that someone could get onto your well-secured property here and steal one of your own children.”

  His eyes widen. “Oh yes, we were all very shocked.” He looks like a bobble head as he nods vigorously. “Took us all quite by surprise.” He lifts a handkerchief out of his pocket, dabbing at the sweat along his hairline.

  “And you never found out who did it?”

  “Oh, well, you know how it is. The trail ran cold and all that.”

  Yes, I’m sure the trail did run cold when you didn’t put any resources into following it.

  “You really are quite stunning,” he repeats, his gaze once again falling back to my tits. It’s not like they’re even pushed up or falling out of my dress. There isn’t an inch of skin on display, yet he can’t stop fucking gaping at them like he’s never seen boobs before in his life.

  I notice Beck in the crowd and silently beg him with my eyes to come save me from his father. Because he’s a fucking godsend, he switches directions, coming toward me.

  “Ah, this is my other son,” West’s father explains, spotting him. “He’s actually a counselor at your school.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Acting as though we’re complete strangers, Beck’s tone is nothing but polite as he holds his hand out for me to shake.

  “Likewise.” I smile innocently up at him as I slip my palm into his, and his hand squeezes mine, holding it for a second longer than is socially appropriate before letting it go.

  Mr. Warren flicks his gaze between us. “Maybe you two know each other?”

  “I don’t think so,” I respond, giving Beck a once-over as though I’m trying to work out if I recognize him from around campus, when in reality, I’m picturing stripping him out of that suit.

  “I think I’d remember someone like you.” The seductive undertones in Beck’s deep voice has goosebumps pebbling my skin. Heat flares in his eyes, and he runs his hand slowly down the length of his tie, drawing my attention to it. My panties grow damp as I remember how, the last time he wore it, he stuffed it in my mouth, silencing my cries while he hammered into my dripping wet pussy.