Broken Princess (Van der Borne University Book 2)

by Dakota Lee

  “Sounds like the same lies you told before, Logan, and for the very same reason. Because you want me to spread my legs for you. I’ve done that, so give it a rest.”

  Resting is not in my makeup. And accepting rejection is never the path I’d take. “I don’t expect you to believe me right away.” Picking up my pencil, I finally turn to face the front of the room, ready to get to work. “I’m just asking you to give me a chance to prove it.”

  “I guess you can’t teach a dumb dog new tricks.” Bella snickers, her eyes trained on the front door of the cafeteria. The bite in her voice is enough to clue me in on who she’s talking about. My silence distracts her from staring. “We still need a plan, Logan.”

  “Do we?”

  “Of course we do. We have to get rid of her before it’s too late.”

  I’ve already fucked Jordanna and decided she’s gonna be mine again. I’d say it’s already too late. Not that I can tell Bella this. Instead, I use the one piece of information that no one can argue against.

  “She works for the dean, and she’s writing for The Guild. We have to be careful with whatever we do, because she’s got a lot of eyes on her right now.”

  Hal lifts his head from between the breasts he’s snuggled against. “First she’s still here, and now she’s working in admin? That means the rumors are true.”

  “What that means, is, we have to stick together until we know what we’re up against. And no deviating from whatever plan we come up with.” Tabitha says, flicking her gaze at Bella.

  “I’m not about to let her ruin what I’ve got going on here.”

  Frankie and two others chime in their agreement. Trying to diffuse the grumblings, I say, “Everything’s under control Bella.”

  “I don’t buy that. Something’s going on with her, and I don’t like it. And if the dean is letting her work for him, that means something big happened. Look at her. New clothes. New shoes. Haven’t you noticed she’s not eating twigs and peanut butter crackers anymore?”

  I had noticed. My eyes seek her out, finding her in the corner with her grad school buddies. Could one or both of them be paying for her meals?

  “Maybe she has a job.” Tabitha suggests.

  “Where? With who? Working in the dean’s office is voluntary. She doesn’t work anywhere on campus, and nobody I’ve spoken to has seen her working at any of the shops out in town. Is the little skank stripping? They say it’s never too early to start working towards your future profession.”

  I’ve had enough of the venom spewing from Bella’s mouth. “Why do you do that? Why is your first reaction always to criticize her?”

  “Maybe for the same reason yours is to suddenly defend her.”

  Settling back in my chair, I cut my eyes to the right. I should’ve known Hal wouldn’t keep his mouth shut about me going after Will. It’s our group above all others, but it’s hard to miss that they pick sides when it’s convenient. Thankfully, more times than I can count, Tabitha is on mine. Hal and Frankie usually are too, but this thing with Jordanna has all of us acting out of character.

  “So this is about Will?”

  “Beating up people for her… it makes you look like you care. Like you’re weak.”

  “And allowing sleaze balls like Will to think we condone sexually assaulting women makes us look like we’re no better than the degenerate assholes Worthless U accuses us of being. We all agree we go as far as we want, but we have limits. No, is a hard limit we never pass.”

  “Maybe she wanted it.”

  That’s the same thing Will said that night, and a sickening thought occurs to me. “I saw her when she ran out of the party. She didn’t, and no matter what you think of her, that’s not a line I’m going to let you manipulate someone into crossing. And if I find out you had anything to do with what happened…” I let her see the anger simmering below the surface.

  “I didn’t. God Logan, relax. Yes, that’s a hard limit and we all agree on that.”

  Satisfied with her answer, I address her other issue. “The grandmother of one of the students from the Carlington line was at the auction. Did you know that? She was on the verge of signing a check for half a million dollars to the school. Half a million. She ripped the check up in front of Dean Allen. Two other donors did the same within a week of hearing what went down. That’s a lot of money, just gone.”

  “We don’t need their money.”

  “True, but reputations are built on money. The more people throw at the school the higher we’re regarded.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you care what I think about your little skuz. You never did before.”

  Looking around the table, I ask, “Did anyone notice the uptick of reporters on campus?” They all shake their heads. “VDU generally sticks to reporters who write puff pieces about the campus but with Penn Waldorf’s trial coming up, we have to play our roles.”

  “This is exactly why we need to get her out of here. We don’t need the scandal.”

  Tabitha closes out whatever she was reading on her phone. “We don’t know why they’re here, so we don’t need to do anything that might draw attention to us.” Simple and logical. That’s Tabby when she’s not trying to give her parents a stroke.

  “Or.” Bella turns to smile at me. “You can ask her if they’re here about Penn or because she’s under investigation for blackmailing and defrauding the school.”

  “What part of playing it cool don’t you get? Whenever I get around Jordanna, I usually wind up with my hands at her throat.” Or between her legs. I shift in my seat, semi-hard just thinking about it. “Giving her ammunition for filing an assault or harassment charge against me won’t help us.”

  “She was stupid in love with you, can’t you use that?” Hal asks.

  “That was last semester. Today she hates my guts.” And she was quick to remind me of that after sucking my soul out of my body with her pussy.

  Bella walks her fingers up my chest and across my shoulder. “What’s that thing they say?” She asks, crawling into my lap and tugging my hair to expose my neck, before licking the side of my face. “It’s a thin line between love and hate. You’ve already jumped in defending her honor. How much harder is it for you to go a little farther?”

  Bella’s putting on a show for Jordanna. I’ve been putting on a show of my own pretending like I’m bored with all this talk about her. “I thought you wanted me to destroy her. Now you want me to backtrack and seduce her again?”

  “I still wanna annihilate the insufferable bitch, but we need to know why she’s still here after the mockery she made of our school, and whether or not it has anything to do with those reporters you saw hanging around.” Bella’s playing the innocent bystander as always. We made a mockery of this institution, Jordanna was the scapegoat.

  Patrick, who’s been quiet up until now, snorts, nodding his agreement. He’s still mad about last semester.

  Bella’s aggravated I won’t take the bait. “Look, Logan. We don’t care if you tell her she’s pretty or choke her to within an inch of her life as long as we get answers.”

  My eyes snap to hers. I dig my hand into her hip until she winces, then grip even harder, until my hold is no longer an annoyance. Now, it’s just the right side of pain. “That sounds an awful lot like an order. Are you ordering me around, Isabelle?”

  The chatter around us quiets. I hold her gaze, waiting for an answer. “She wasn’t-”

  “I wasn’t fucking asking you, Hal” I snap. They’ve all gotten a little too comfortable questioning my decisions. I ghost my hand up to her neck, pressing my thumb just under her trachea. “I asked you a question.” My voice is deadly soft and quiet. Almost sweet. Her eyes widen and the color drains from her face because she knows quiet and sweet are never good things coming from me.

  “I know we all have a lot to lose, but Jordanna isn’t stupid. I can’t just say I changed my mind and let’s date. She doesn’t trust me. In fact, she hates me. So maybe you need to stay in your p
lace and give me a chance to come up with a plan.”

  I shove her out of my lap, my skin crawling from having let her sit on me for as long as I did. It’s all bullshit. I don’t need a plan because I already have one. Bella’s got one thing right, it is a thin line between love and hate. Or lust and hate, which are the emotions Jordanna’s struggling to control. With her working at the paper, that gives me more time to tap into the attraction that’s lingering underneath the surface.

  Across the cafeteria, Jordanna throws her head back, laughing at whatever Sterling’s just said. When she rights herself, her eyes sweep across the room, landing on me, and her smile slips. Noel turns his head to see what she’s staring at and taps Sterling on the shoulder. Their entire table grows quiet. The only person over there who’s not shooting daggers our way is Kassidy. But, I know I haven’t earned any good will back with her yet.

  Sterling says something else. This time the entire table laughs, and Jordanna goes back to eating her meal, ignoring us. Ignoring me.

  I turn my attention back to the pit viper next to me. “Bella, the only scandals we have are the ones we make and we’re careful not to let anyone outside of school know about them. Reporters on campus are an inconvenience, but I can handle it, so you have nothing to worry about.”

  I send off a text

  * * *

  While you’re eating with your friends, and pretending I don’t exist, don’t forget how well you knew me in that hotel room when you were bouncing on my cock

  * * *

  Jordanna’s hand goes to the back of her neck before snatching her water from the table and taking a long gulp. Last time I had to win her head and heart. This time I’m going straight for her body. I don’t give a shit what she’s saying about the hotel being a one-off. Jordanna still wants me.

  “And if there’s a chance?” Bella asks, bringing me back to the conversation.

  “I’m the editor of the paper, McKay Media’s heir, with access to every damn paper in the tri-state area before it goes to print. No one’s publishing anything without me knowing.”

  That seems to appease her. “Good, because we count on you as the king of VDU and Davis McKay’s heir to protect our interests, Logan.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m doing.” And somehow I have to figure out a way to protect Jordanna too.

  Nineteen

  Jordanna

  I thought I knew what I was getting myself into by going to work in the dean’s office. Making copies and filing paperwork sounded easy. But then, I learned each document needs a receipt stamp, a cover sheet, and a folder. I make a second copy once the dean signs it, and then outgoing correspondence has to be carried down to the mail cart three times a day to be picked up by the local mail service. One envelope is fine. Stacks of forty each trip is an upper arm workout.

  Then there’s The Guild, where I’m a reporter and photographer, so the days I work in the dean’s office are my late days at the paper. I’ve also got schoolwork, homework, and class projects. I think I’m averaging four hours of sleep each night and I feel tired, wired, and a little stressed.

  Logan’s here tonight, going over an article that’s supposed to be featured in this week’s paper. Most of the staff left two hours ago. I hit backspace for the third time, deleting another line that sounds like shit. I can’t seem to get my brain to work this evening, and I don’t know why.

  I drop my glasses onto the desk and stand, just as Logan walks by. He gets hit in the shins by my runaway chair.

  “Tryna cut me off at the knees and steal the bi-line above the fold?”

  “If I were trying to take you out, I’d aim higher.”

  “Like at my heart?”

  “Your dick. If I injure that, it’s guaranteed to take you out of commission.”

  “Spending a lot of time thinking of my dick, are you?”

  “None at all. I just know how very fond you and every other man is of theirs.”

  He steps close enough for me to smell the mint on his breath and the wood-burnt smell of clay on his skin. He must’ve been sculpting before coming here.

  “You’re fond of it too,” he says with all the confidence of a man who knows he’s good in bed.

  “I was, but then again, I didn’t know any better. I guess that was the point, right?” I ask, shoving by him. My skin prickles at the thought of how much of a fool I was for trusting him. And yet it’s also electrified from where our arms grazed when I walked by.

  I’m pacing the hallway outside of the newsroom, trying to get my thoughts and feelings under control. I wanted to pick up that chair and bash him in the head with it when he mentioned our history. A tingle of awareness slips down my spine. I turn around to see him walking towards me. Of course he followed me out here to continue pestering me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Like you give a shit!”

  The closer he gets, the more I feel like I’m trapped in a box. I run to the end of the hall, pushing through the exit door that leads to the stairwell. He’s right on my tail. I’m flying down the stairs, trying to outrun him which proves useless because he’s skipping stairs three at a time. I reach for the door on the second landing, but his hand closes around my arm, pulling me towards him before I can get it open.

  “Let go.” My chest heaves with each labored breath.

  “Not until you tell me why the hell you’re acting so bitchy tonight.”

  “I don’t owe you an explanation about shit.”

  I push against his chest, trying to kick him to get him off me. He grips my hands with one of his, wedging his knee between my fused thighs, unbothered by my feeble attempts. His free hand goes to his waist. I hear the soft swish of his belt being pulled from the loops of his jeans.

  “What the hell?” The words tumble from my mouth in a gasp when he lashes my wrists together, then turns me away from him, threading and securing the belt around the handrail.

  “You wanna fight me. Fine. We’ll fight.”

  “Then untie me so I can kick your ass.”

  “That’s not the kind of fighting you want.” He whispers thickly against my ear. “You know what struggling does to me and you just did a fuck ton of it.” He’s close enough that I can feel his erection against my ass. I should be putting space between us, but my body arches towards it.

  His hands are in my pants, palming me. On instinct, I rub my pussy against it, desperate to be touched.

  “Wet for me, already?”

  “Not you, the hottie in my game theory class. He’s nice to me.”

  “My cock is about to be nice to you too.” He shoves my jeans down to my ankles, pulling my hips back. The head of his cock presses against my entrance. I’m so wet, I take half of him in one stroke.

  “Heaven.” He grunts, and somehow as keyed up as I am to fight, just feeling him inside me calms the maelstrom raging within.

  We rut against each other, my wrists chafing from the leather on his belt. They’ll be sore and red tomorrow, but I don’t care. It feels good to feel something. I feel alive.

  “I want this ass, Jordy.” He smacks it. Hard. More wetness slips from my aching channel. He pulls out, reaching between my legs, coating his finger in my juices, before plunging back in. I feel the pressure against my rim as he slips just the tip of a finger in it. We’ve done this before, but now it feels weird. Dirty. Wrong. And yet, I want to feel more.

  “Maybe I’ll play with yours first,” I retort. Not that I’d know what to do, but I’ve heard the stories about men liking to have their prostate massaged. It’s supposed to be like their G-spot or something, and letting me do it means Logan loses control of something. With each thing he gives up, the more I’ll own him.

  “No one’s ever fucking my ass.”

  “Right back at you.” My words are muted by the sound of his hips hitting my ass. My head falls forward, and I arch my back, changing the angle of my hips so he hits deeper than before. I close my eyes, giving myself over to it. His speed quickens as his h
ands anchor me in place.

  “Come for me, Jordy.”

  I’m ready. I’m there. But I can’t make it too easy for him, so I do what I can to hold my orgasm at bay.

  “I can feel you fighting it.”

  “You want me to get off; work for it.”

  He pulls out slowly, as if we’re not in the middle of a stairwell, risking getting caught at any moment. His nails scrape across my thighs. Then he slams in. The tip of his cock bumps my cervix, sending a jolt of pain through me. My hips hurt, my knees ache, and my wrists burn from scraping against my leather binds. All those sensations converge into the warmth spreading through my body. He does it four more times. My strangled cry gets caught in my throat as I freeze in that magical place sex with him propels me to, then I finally come undone. He follows shortly after, barely able to withdraw. I’m clamped around him like a vice, leaving nothing left in him.

  His hands massage my shoulders and upper back as I struggle to get my breathing under control. “See, isn’t that better?”

  I do feel better, now that I’ve exerted some of that pent up energy. He steps away, pulling up his pants while I’m still tied to the railing, and says, “Any time you want a tune up, just let me know.”

  He finally releases my hands, pressing his thumbs against my wrists. I snatch them away, hastily straighten my clothes, and descend the last flight of the stairs pushing through the exit and into freedom.

  I slow my escape when I’m sure he’s not following me. A smile graces my lips. I didn’t know if I’d be able to do it a second time, but it was easier than before. And Logan was so caught up in controlling me, he never stopped to think about why I was letting him get close.