Broken Princess (Van der Borne University Book 2)

by Dakota Lee

  He lifts me so my face is level with his, and he’s staring at my mouth like he’s about to kiss me. I wrap my arms around his neck and estimate I have maybe five-seconds to decide if I’m going to let him.

  “Jordanna.” A voice growls from off to the side.

  Not the cock-blocking party I expected, but I’ll run with it, anyway. I keep my gaze on Trace’s face. “Mm?”

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Noel asks, staring at my new friend. Trace lowers me to my feet but keeps a hand on my hip.

  “Dancing.”

  “That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing.”

  “Are you saying I’m a horrible dancer? Or are you trying to cut in?”

  “He’s not cutting in,” Trace huffs.

  “It’s okay.” I pat him affectionately on the chest. “I don’t mind if the two of you dance together, while I go to the bathroom.”

  I wink at Noel on my way off the floor. His timing couldn’t have been any better. I’m hot and could use a break from all those pheromones Trace was pumping my way. If he would’ve kissed me, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have kissed him back.

  Seventeen

  Logan

  After the museum, Jordanna took off with Dixon, Noel and Sterling. The three guys on campus who I know don’t give a shit about my word as king or that she’s my ex. She’s not answering my messages on Prospectus and I couldn’t ask Simon to track her phone, without having to answer questions about why.

  I didn’t feel like clubbing tonight, but I’m here, and I let one of Bella’s robots talk me into using my connections to get us into the VIP area. I’m sitting in a booth, nursing my drink when Jordy walks in.

  Even though she’s not big on parties, when she’s at them, she loves to dance, and I love watching her. Tonight, the teal streak in her hair, with those tight ass jeans, boots and leather jacket, she looks like a rock chick and my teenage band fantasies about banging a rocker backstage at a concert come back in full force.

  I watch her drink and mingle with people she doesn’t know. She looks happy. Maybe because most of the people in the club are strangers and, just like her, they’re here to have a good time. I grip my glass hard enough to break when some oversized asshole pulls her onto the floor and starts rubbing his hands all over her. He’s gripping her hips, grinding against her ass, and I see red. I’m on my feet when he turns her and picks her up in the air, gripping her ass, about to go in for a kiss.

  Noel gets to her first, and I can tell from here he’s pissed. She smiles at him. Pats the guy on the chest and leaves the two of them gawking at her as she walks off the floor. My eyes follow her and I relax, but only slightly, when I see she’s heading towards the stairs that lead to the bathrooms.

  I have to remind myself that this isn’t a VDU swap night party and going to the restroom alone isn’t an invitation for someone to fuck her senseless. Though my dick is telling me to follow her to the bathroom and fuck some sense into her.

  When she comes back onto the floor, she dances with two more guys before leaving with Noel. His hand rests possessively on her back as he steers her out the door. I wanna smash his face and break his hand for touching her. His eyes flick up to me, and the sanctimonious smirk on his face lets me know he’s doing this shit on purpose.

  I leave soon after them, needing to be as far away from the simpering girls in VIP, all clamoring for a chance to fuck me. I used to revel in their attention. Now it just makes my skin crawl and my nuts shrivel up.

  Jordanna has me turned inside out, and she’s not even trying. I came on this trip to keep an eye on her and Noel. But keeping up appearances with VDU’s elite means I failed. He strolled her out of the club, right under my nose. And I know he’s going to try something.

  * * *

  I close the door to my room with a thud, heading directly for the mini bar. I need something to take the edge off. The whiskey dulls the rage in my veins from watching all those men putting their hands on my girl, but it’s not enough to quell the ache in my nuts from watching her dance. I strip down, turning the shower to cold, hoping it will help. It does, and when I’m back in control of my anger and my lust, I step out of the shower, letting the cool air dry my skin.

  Back in the bedroom, I finish drying off, scrubbing my body with an extra fluffy towel and stare at my luggage. I never fully unpacked, and the things I had out, I put away, expecting to be out until the club closed. I left out some underwear and clothes for tomorrow. I’m too tired to dig around for my sweatpants, so I crawl into bed as is. My phone’s been blowing up since I left the club. I continue to ignore the texts and make sure my alarm is set so I don’t miss breakfast. I’m doing the slow blink as soon as I sit on the bed. Reaching over, I turn off the lamp, ready to pass out and get this day officially over with.

  * * *

  I sense that I’m not alone in my room. I’m in that state between waking and sleep, but I know someone’s here. Even with my eyes closed, I recognize her scent and touch.

  Her voice caresses my skin, as she asks, “Can I?”

  “Mmm.” I breathe out a contented sigh as her hand reaches inside my boxer briefs and grips my shaft. She uses slow strokes until I harden in her hands. I reach up to touch her, but all I grab is air. “Jordy...”

  “Shh.”

  She places a hand against my chest. Through slitted eyes I see her hovering over me. I emit a strangled groan when she sinks onto my dick. I’ve been dreaming about this moment for weeks and now, somehow, she’s snuck into my hotel room and is taking it for herself. Her eyes are closed as she rocks back and forth, using my shoulders to balance herself.

  Just as I’m catching her rhythm, she changes, bouncing up and down on my shaft, riding me hard. Our flesh slaps together, beads of sweat pool on our skin. She’s not looking at me, and as good as it feels to be inside her, it feels wrong that it’s happening this way.

  “Jordy. Wait.” She doesn’t stop. She just takes. Her need. What she wants is fully in control. She’s disconnected from the moment. Detached and unemotional. “Not like this. Jordanna. Open your eyes and look at me.” I command.

  When she does, I see fire, lust, and need. But the dominant emotion in her eyes is bitter anger. The intensity of her gaze freezes me in place. I know what’s going through her mind, and ask, “You wanna hurt me, baby?”

  “Yes.” She hurls the answer at me like a profanity.

  I place her hands on my chest, knowing what it’s like to need to exorcise your demons. “Do your worst.”

  She digs her nails into my skin, the sting from the dermis breaking mixes with the pleasure of being surrounded by her heat. I’ve never let a woman be in control like this. To allow them permission to even try to inflict pain upon me. I let her have her moment, relishing in the fact that she’s pushing her boundaries. She grips and tears through my skin and I let her. I deserve it. But I nearly lose my shit when she sinks her teeth into my neck.

  “Shit!” I growl, bucking into her, fighting to maintain control. She braces her hands against my chest, sliding up and down my cock, slamming her ass against my thighs. I grab her hips, but she needs no encouragement to fuck me harder. Our foreheads are inches apart, her hair secluding us from the world. My lips are inches from her mouth. “I’ve missed this pussy.”

  She bites her lower lip, swirling her hips. “I’ve missed this cock.”

  Finally, she kisses me. Ravaging my mouth with hers. I suck up her taste. The whiskey, the lime, the beer, and the feel of her lush walls clinching around me. Locking me in. “I’m coming. Logan. I’m coming.” She moans, as if I can’t tell.

  She sits up, arching back, and tweaks her nipples, biting her lip as spasm after delicious spasm washes over her. One hand ghosts over her stomach, dipping between her legs as she fingers her clit, prolonging her pleasure. I’m so turned on watching her I ignore the signs of my own orgasm; blowing my load sooner than I planned.

  “Oh, fuck!” I hold her against me as I tw
itch inside her. She milks every drop out of my cock, sucking my strength out with it. I hate intrusions into my sleep, because I never feel like I get enough of it, but I’m willing to deal if it’s Jordy waking me up like this. My thundering pulse slows as she’s lying against my chest. Even though we’re wrapped together, I feel a change in the temperature in the room.

  “Jordy?” I push a damp strand of hair from her face.

  She lifts her head, her lips set into a harsh line. “This doesn’t mean anything. I still hate you for what you did.”

  I drop my hand away, letting her scramble off the bed. She puts her clothes on and carries her shoes in her hand, slipping out the door. “I know.” I say to the empty air.

  Jordanna

  I did it. I used Logan for sex, and I didn’t sit around sharing my feelings about it afterwards. I know girls do no strings attached, Kassidy’s practically majoring in it, but I’m not that girl. I never thought I could be that girl, but tonight shows I can. It’s freeing to let go of the notion of what’s right and wrong. Now I know what people mean, when they say sex can be liberating. I giggle into the empty hallway, heading to my room. This is what it must feel like to have a breakthrough.

  Logan liked me digging into his skin and saying I wanted to hurt him. He mentioned before that he likes to play with pain, but I thought the smack on my ass was what he meant. Now I know it goes deeper, and an unrecognizable part of me liked it too. And I felt high from being in control, making him my bitch. Can I do it again?

  There’s only one way to find out. I hate him, I really do. But I know just one time won’t be enough to ensnare him in my trap. I’ll play this cool and let him think he’s winning me. I’ll make him truly fall for me, and when I turn the tables on him, he’ll be the one left with nothing.

  * * *

  I’m indulging in my latest obsession, people watching, while we’re doing our final headcount and waiting for the buses to arrive. Most of the group is wearing sunglasses. I doubt it has anything to do with the overcast sky. They’re hungover and sleep deprived. It’s almost comical, considering how much they party on campus. I guess the recovery time is different when you can just pass out wherever you are.

  Logan’s leaning against a wall, sipping a coffee. It’s cold as shit outside, but my body warms, thinking about what I did last night. I press my thighs together, noting that I’m a little sore from how hard I rode him.

  I walk to the edge of the group to talk to Dixon, pretending nothing happened, because if I know one thing about Logan, it’s that he hates being ignored. It’s just a matter of time before he seeks me out to say something, and when he does, I’ll be ready.

  * * *

  Once I’m back on campus, I put everything I learned and did this weekend out of my mind because I have a paper to write and a homework assignment to complete. Kassidy doesn’t ask me anything about the trip, other than did I like the exhibits, because the other students were posting play-by-plays on their Prospectus accounts.

  I text my mother letting her know I’m back at school and turn my phone off to cut down on the distractions. It’s after eleven at night when I finish the first draft of my paper. I print it and put it in a folder to read over later with fresh eyes. It takes another hour to finish my homework and when I’m done; I flip the volume back on my phone and set my alarm. Taking off my jeans, I crawl into bed with just my ratty t-shirt and boy shorts.

  I toss and turn a few times, trying to find a comfortable position, and fluff my top pillow, placing it longways, finally feeling cozy and relax enough to fall asleep.

  * * *

  I jolt awake. Looking down the length of my body, I notice my sheets twisted around my waist, one hand under my shirt, and the other in my shorts. I know exactly why. I was dreaming Logan had me tied up in the bell tower, on my knees in front of him. But instead of using his hand to get off, he took my mouth until my lips were numb and my jaw ached. His words cut through the air as he promised he’d be filling every one of my holes before he was done. My hand is wet and the inside of my thighs are sticky. I pull my finger out of my quivering pussy. Great. One night with Logan, and now I’m dreaming about him and fingering myself in my sleep.

  I untangle myself from my sheets, slipping into the bathroom to clean myself off. It’s still early in the morning. I just hope I wasn’t moaning, or rocking the bed hard enough for Kassidy to hear. That would be embarrassing.

  Checking my phone, I see I have ten unread messages. Three of them are from Logan, one from Summer, and the rest are random Prospectus status updates. Curiosity killed the cat, and it’s about to get me too. I navigate to his profile to see what type of things he’s been posting since coming back to school. Not that it will give me any insight into his mind. He’s good at hiding behind his mask of civility and charm.

  Before, I couldn’t tell the difference between the faces he shows. But thanks to Pepper’s homework assignment, I’m recognizing when he’s being genuine and when he’s putting on an act. The photos he’s in, in New York, are all fake. He wasn’t having as good a time as he pretended to be.

  There are the usual ones he takes at the parties, and around campus, or out in town, and a few around a pool I assume is at his home. Whoever the photographer was, he likes that person and feels comfortable around them enough to let his guard down. Soon that person will be me.

  I answer my sister’s text and scroll through my phone for the notes I jotted down weeks ago. Now that I’ve crossed the first hurdle with Logan, it’s time to move on to the next stage of my plan.

  Eighteen

  Logan

  I slide into the seat in front of the woman who appeared to me like a dream during the early hours of Sunday morning and fucked me so good that I drifted back off to sleep with a smile on my face, even after her abrupt exit. I don’t know how Jordanna persuaded the front desk to give her a key to my room. Others asked for it and were turned away.

  Today, I need to see where her head is at. She said she still hates me, and rightly so, but she’s opened the door to us reconnecting on a sexual level, and I want her in my bed again. I will have her again.

  Her brows are pinched in concentration as she swipes her pencil across the canvas. This semester she’s more confident looking at the body on stage. My eyes flick to the front of the classroom, then back to her work.

  Her hand is steady, her lines crisp. I can already see the outline of the model’s body taking shape. She’s come a long way from the shy artist who couldn’t look beyond legs and arms. Her headphones are in blocking out the soft whispers of the other students. I pop one out, placing it in my ear. The soft jazz is sexy, forlorn and desperate.

  She’s listening to this while looking at him? Her hand touches mine and when I look down, I see she’s holding her hand out for me to give her headphones back. I snatch it out of my ear, but I don’t return it. I know if I do, she’ll go back to ignoring me. I’ll give it back after we’ve talked.

  “Why aren’t you taking my calls?”

  “You haven’t called. I blocked your number, remember?”

  That’s the first thing we’re gonna rectify. It’s a pain to keep logging in with my admin credentials to message her on Prospectus. “Jordy, we need to talk about what happened.”

  She shrugs, looks past me, studies the model for a minute, then goes back to sketching. “Really? You don’t have anything to say, after you snuck into my hotel room and fucked me?”

  “Logan, it’s not a big deal. I was feeling horny and rather than sleep with some stranger who might not have been able to get me off, I opted for you.”

  Her hands are steady, and her voice is strong. When the hell did she get so dismissive about sex? Last semester she was all about sharing her feelings, before and after. Now she’s shrugging it off. This must be some of the shit she learned on the island from Kassidy’s parents. “That’s all it was to you? Just sex?”

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know how hypocritical they must sound,
after telling her the months we spent together were only to get her into bed, so I could humiliate her in the end.

  “I told you, I still hate you for what you did. You, of all people, couldn’t possibly expect one orgasm to make me change my mind about that.”

  I don’t but a few more might, which is why I’m about to do something I shouldn’t be doing. Pursue her. “I’ve apologized, and I told you I want the chance to be friends again. I don’t know how many more ways I can say it.”

  “It was a bullshit apology that you practically took back seconds after you said it, and even if I thought you meant it, nothing’s different. You’re still hanging with the same people who thought it would be funny to bet on my virginity and to humiliate me in front of everyone, just because I came here on a scholarship. You say you’re sorry, but even if that’s true, the damage is done. I’m still getting the same looks and hearing the same shit I was on the first day of school. Any second now, I expect one of your friends to tell me that this apology is bullshit. Another tactic you’re using in an elaborate game to further humiliate me, since it didn’t quite stick the last time around.”

  They could say that, and Bella might do it just to fuck with her, which is why I need Jordanna to trust me, before they get wind of us hooking up. She studies the model again before shadowing in the area on the top of his shoulder.

  “Logan, we fucked. It was good, but we don’t need to make a big deal out of it.” She scrunches her lips, swiping her eyes across my face. “This should be right up your alley. Why are you being all weird about it?”

  I’m being weird? She booty-called me and is accusing me of overreacting. She’s the one acting weird. “I can’t control what my friends say or do, Jordy. I can only promise that this time will be different. My motives are different. I want to spend time with you, not because of a game. But, because I want you, and I want to be with you. You hate me because of what I did, but admit it. Deep down, you know everything wasn’t about the game.”