Fallen Heirs : A Dark High School Bully Romance (Windsor Academy Book 3)

by Laura Lee

  “How’d you know where to find me?” I hiccup.

  “I got a text.” Kingston squeezes me and places a kiss on the side of my head. “I don’t know who sent it, but they said to get here fast and that you were in danger. I found your purse in the parking lot a minute beforehand, so I knew it wasn’t a joke.” He carefully palms my face and lifts my head up. “What happened, baby?”

  I wipe the tears away from my eyes. “I’ll tell you, but please just get me out of here. I need to get out of here.”

  Kingston nods. “Of course.”

  As we leave the Windsor gates behind, I think about the first time I saw them and how screwed up my life has become since then. Kingston squeezes my hand, reminding me that something positive has come out of this new life as well. Someone once told me that you have to experience some bad to truly appreciate the good things in life. What I’d like to know is how many godawful things I need to experience before finally getting some peace? I’m so stinking exhausted fighting demons at every turn, I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  KINGSTON

  Jazz hasn’t said a word the entire ride home, which is killing me. I need to know what happened, but I know pushing her to tell me before she’s ready won’t do either of us any good. As soon as we step into my house, she practically runs to the shower, turning the tap to scalding. She’s not even fully undressed before she’s under the spray, scrubbing furiously at her face and chest.

  I quickly remove my clothes and join her. “Hey. Slow down. Let me help.”

  I reach in front of Jazz to turn the temperature down a bit. I like hot showers just as much as the next guy, but when her naturally tanned skin is bright red within seconds, you know the water’s too damn hot.

  “I just need to get it off,” she sobs.

  “Get what off?” I help her out of her pants, which is easier said than done because they’re soaked and molding to her legs.

  “Him.” She starts shaking as she grabs the bottle of body wash and squirts it on the bath sponge. “His scent... his touch... his... his...”

  I grab the pouf out of her hand and try my damnedest not to react. I want to bombard her with questions about what happened, about why she has a loaded gun in her purse, but I don’t want to make it worse. “Baby, we don’t need to do this right now. Let’s just get you cleaned up. We can talk after you’ve slept a little.”

  She shakes her head. “No. I need to get this out now. I just want it all out there. I need to get it all out there.”

  I take a deep breath. “Okay, if that’s what you really want. Just... take your time and give me as much, or as little information as you want.”

  Her red-rimmed eyes lift to mine. “It was Lucas.”

  I clench my jaw, slowly running the sponge over her body. “What was Lucas?”

  Jazz dips her hair under the water. “He was the one. At the lake. At the Malibu party. Tonight. He’s the one. I can’t believe I didn’t piece it together before, but he actually admitted it, so there’s no question. And Christian was his accomplice. Lucas was boasting about nearly raping me, Kingston. Telling me how much I was going to love it. He started recording us on his phone, saying that he was going to send it to you. I mean, what kind of sick fuck does things like that?”

  I damn near crack the shampoo bottle down the middle as I pour some into my hand. I take a moment to bring it to a lather before transferring it to Jazz’s hair. Her body relaxes as I massage her scalp; meanwhile, I’m grinding my teeth together so hard, I’m surprised they haven’t turned to dust.

  “How did you end up at Windsor?”

  She turns around and rinses the shampoo from her hair before replying. “We finished up early at work. It was only fifteen minutes. I knew you were probably already on the road, so I decided to just hang at the sub shop at the other end of the plaza and grab a sandwich. I was going to text you as soon as I got there, but about halfway across the lot, they pulled up in that Escalade—Lucas and Christian—and Lucas pulled me into the car. I tried fighting him off, but he used his weight advantage to immobilize me like the last two times. Tonight, he was crushing me and cutting off my air supply.

  “When we stopped... at the school, I guess... he... shoved my shirt up.” Now that her skin isn’t so red, I can see the fingerprint-shaped bruises forming on her jaw. “He...put his fingers inside of me. He pulled his pants down and...” She gags. “Oh, God.”

  I’m going to fucking kill him.

  “He took his pants down and what, Jazz?” I intentionally keep my voice soft to counteract the violent storm brewing inside of me.

  “Rubbed his dick over my chest. My lips. He was about to force it into my mouth right before those guys showed up to take him away.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ward off the images running through my brain. I can’t make the rage stop. I need... I need something to tamp it down.

  “Motherfucker!” Jazz screams as I turn around and slam my fist into the wall, splintering the tiles, coating them with my blood. Shit, that hurts.

  “I’m gonna be sick.” I turn back toward her right as she’s cupping a hand over her mouth.

  Yeah, me too.

  Jazz falls to her knees on the shower floor and starts heaving, but nothing comes out. Scratch that. Here it comes... and... there it goes, right down the drain.

  “Shh.” I crouch down and rub my hand along her back. I hiss when the water hits my flayed knuckles, mixing blood with vomit as it swirls down the drain.

  The beast inside of me is roaring, demanding vengeance, but leaving Jazz right now isn’t an option. The second I get my hands on that motherfucker though, he’s dead. I mean it. Literally fucking dead. I will make sure it’s nice and slow, too, so he can feel every bit of terror and pain he inflicted on her.

  Finally, when her body is no longer convulsing, Jazz stands back up and sobs while I rewash her body and rinse the remaining vomit down the drain. I shut the water off, grab a towel, and begin the process of drying her off.

  “Damn it.” My hand is really fucked. I’m pretty sure I broke some knuckles, and blood is getting all over the terrycloth.

  “Kingston, let me help. You’re hurt.” Jazz reaches for my hand, but I pull back.

  “No. You have enough to worry about. Just give me a sec.”

  I head to the linen closet and grab a hand towel, wrapping it around my knuckles. Once it’s secure, I wrap a larger towel around my waist and help Jazz out of the shower. I start leading her back to the bedroom, but she pauses by the sink.

  “Hold up. If I don’t get this taste out of my mouth, I’m going to wind up puking again.”

  I nod and wait quietly while Jazz brushes her teeth and rinses her mouth out. I smile, despite the shitty circumstances, when she places her toothbrush back in the holder. She stubbornly refuses to stay every night like I want her to, but she’s brought several personal items over to make her more comfortable when she is here. I can’t say I hate seeing her stuff mixed with mine.

  Jazz immediately wraps herself around me, not leaving an inch of space between us, once we’re secured under the covers. We’re holding on to each other like a lifeline, neither one of us willing to let go.

  I kiss the top of her head. “Do you think you can answer a few more questions?”

  She nods slightly. “I can try.”

  “You said someone came to get Lucas. Who?”

  “Dunno. When he was about to... his phone started blowing up. He talked to the person on the other line for a bit, called him sir, so I know it was a man, but that’s all I got out of it. Then, a car suddenly showed up, parking right behind the one we were in. Lucas stepped out of the Escalade, sat inside the other car, and they drove away. I don’t know who the mystery man was, but they scared the shit out of Lucas. That part was obvious.”

  I frown, processing everything. It takes me a minute, but all of a sudden, the puzzle pieces start clicking together. If Lucas is Jazz’s origina
l attacker, that must be who my dad was referring to in that video with Peyton. My dad said that if Peyton’s lapdog goes after Jazz again, he will make him pay. Is my father the mystery man? But how would he know where Jazz was or what was happening at the time?

  Fuck.

  Why do all the goddamn answers lead to more questions whenever my dad is involved?

  Jazz shifts her body, and my dick reacts from the friction. I try to pull away, but she clings to me, tangling our legs together and rubbing against me more purposefully.

  “Jazz.”

  I feel her delicate fingers pulling at the towel around my waist. “Kingston, please. I need this.”

  I groan as she loosens the towel and begins stroking my length. “Baby, you should try to get some rest.”

  “I will.” Jazz places her lips against my collarbone at the same time her thumb sweeps over the precum leaking from my tip. “After I ride you.”

  She gets up on her knees and removes the towel she had wrapped around her. Her lithe, beautiful body sits before me, ripe for the taking. From her bronzed skin to the delicately sculpted muscles of her abdomen to her perfect, perky tits begging for my attention. My fingers trace the two horizontal marks on Jazz’s torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The scars are much lighter now, no longer raised up and angry looking. Pretty soon, it’ll almost be as if they were never there.

  “They’re healing so well.”

  “Kingston, I don’t want to talk right now. I just want to feel you inside of me. Please don’t make me beg.”

  I’m trying not to take advantage of Jazz’s vulnerable state, but it’s damn near impossible when she looks like she wants to eat me alive. I know the feeling because I’ve never wanted anything or anyone more than her. Jazz leans forward, her long, damp hair tickling my arms as our lips meet. I suck her full lower lip into my mouth, clamping my teeth down as she moans. She sucks my tongue into her mouth, and my dick jerks, imagining her giving it the same treatment.

  Jazz straddles me as we kiss, rubbing her wetness along my shaft, up and down, down and back up until I don’t think I can hold out anymore. If we’re going to do this, I need to make sure she’s well taken care of first, and that’s not going to happen if I shoot my load before I can even get inside of her.

  I tap her hip with my uninjured hand. “Come sit on my face.” When she hesitates, I add, “What’s wrong? Do you want to stop?”

  “No.” She shakes her head, emphatically. “It’s just... I just remembered something he said to me. He wanted to go down on me... said he doesn’t normally, but he’d make an exception for me.”

  I count to ten in my head, trying to remain calm. I don’t know what the right thing to do here is. I do know she loves having my face between her thighs, but the last thing either of us wants is for her to be thinking about her would-be rapist right now.

  “Baby. Don’t feel obligated to do this. To do anything. I just want to make you feel good. If you need time, I get it.”

  She gives me a soft smile. “I know I don’t have to do anything, Kingston. Not with you. But I do want this. If I let that bastard ruin something that I enjoy so much, he’d win, and I’m not going to let that happen.”

  Jazz scoots up my body and combs a hand through my hair as she hovers above me, positioning a knee on each side of my head. She releases a curse when I lift my head off the pillow and swipe my tongue through her folds.

  “Good?”

  Jazz nods. “So good.”

  “Then drop down, baby. Let me eat that pretty pussy. Let me make it feel even better.”

  “God,” she pants as I swirl the tip of my tongue over her clit.

  After a few tentative licks, to make sure she’s still on board with this, I devour her slick flesh, licking and sucking, loving every little whimper and expletive that’s ripped from her mouth. I moan right along with her as her sweet cream explodes on my tongue. Jazz claws the headboard each time she orgasms, screaming my name over and over.

  After I make her come for the fourth time, Jazz flops to the side, panting. “No more... soooo good... but too sensitive.”

  I use the towel that was around my hand to wipe my face. Thankfully, the bleeding has stopped, but my aching knuckles are swollen as fuck.

  I roll over and place a kiss on her hipbone. “Does that mean you’re done with me for the night?”

  She pulls on my shoulders, prompting me to move up her body. “Hell, no. Just no more love button action.”

  “Love button?” I laugh.

  Jazz gives me a warm smile that makes my breath stutter. “Get inside of me, Kingston.”

  I pull her nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip as I withdraw. “Whatever you say, my queen.”

  “Queen? What happened to princess?” Jazz gasps when I give her other nipple equal attention.

  I push up on my arms to look her directly in the eye. “My queen. No one else’s.”

  “No one else’s.” Jazz cups both sides of my jaw as she repeats my words. “Ever.”

  I stare down at her for several beats, neither one of us compelled to fill the silence. We’re perfectly content, merely enjoying the closeness of each other’s body. This feeling inside of me, the one that’s making my chest expand, should’ve been my first clue on how much I worship this girl. No matter how fucked up my life can get, when I’m like this, with Jazz, I’m genuinely happy. I live for these little stolen moments.

  “I love you,” she whispers.

  I grin. “Of course you do. I’m such a nice guy, what’s not to love?”

  Jazz shakes with laughter, tears springing from her eyes.

  “You are not a nice guy. Most of the time, anyway.” She pulls me closer and nibbles my earlobe. “But you are mine. Now, kiss me.”

  I groan into her mouth as I slide into her wet heat. Jazz’s hips chase mine as I pull out almost to the tip, before sinking back in. Our pace is unhurried, lazy almost, but neither she nor I mind one bit. I’m not usually a fan of missionary because it’s such an intimate position—and quite frankly, not nearly as much fun as others. But right now, I wouldn’t want her any other way. Being able to feel Jazz’s body flush against mine, our sweat-slicked skin rubbing against each other with each motion. Watching her expressive eyes tell me how much pleasure I’m giving her. How much she wants me. How much she needs me.

  I’m not a making love kind of guy, but if I had to give this a label, that’s what it would be, no doubt. My dick and tongue give everything I have and take anything she’s willing to offer in return. My hands caress every inch of skin I can reach, while hers do the same to mine. I’ve never been more attuned to someone than I am at this moment. There could be a riot right outside my door, and I probably wouldn’t notice. After Jazz comes apart one last time, I pick up the pace just enough to reach my own release. My head is tucked into her neck as I come, and out of nowhere, I have an epiphany.

  Jazz Rivera is the one. The only.

  I want this woman to have my babies. I want her face to be the one I see every morning when I wake up, and every evening before I fall asleep. I want to laugh with her, hold her when she cries, fuck her until she sees stars. I want us to grow old together and watch our children have their own children. Some people would probably say I’m naïve, that eighteen is far too young to know when you’ve met the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with, but I’d tell those people to fuck off. There’s not a doubt in my mind, she’s it for me.

  “Holy fuck,” I mutter.

  “I know,” she pants. “That was amazing. I’m spent.”

  I pull out and use one of the towels to help Jazz clean up. When we’re done, she turns her body toward mine and places a kiss right over my heart.

  “You’re it for me, too, Kingston.”

  Huh?

  I’m confused for a moment until I realize I must’ve said that part out loud. I squeeze Jazz tighter, petting her hair as she snuggles into me. When her breathing starts to even out, I clos
e my eyes too, giving myself a few moments to soak it in before I have to do what needs to be done.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JAZZ

  “God, I’m so excited for tomorrow.”

  “Me too. I can’t wait to see the look on Belle’s face.”

  I smile. “She’s going to be ecstatic. I know I said it before, but thank you so much for planning this. My mom and I always tried to separate Belle’s birthday from the holiday, and I was worried her dad wouldn’t do the same. Since this is her first birthday without our mom, I wanted it to be extra special. You really nailed it, Kingston. I seriously can’t think of anything more perfect.”

  Kingston pulls me into a hug. “I imagine it’d be tough being a Christmas baby, especially when you’re younger, and that’s a holiday you celebrate. It’s easy to get lost in the mix.”

  “Right.” I nod. “That’s why we always had a tradition of celebrating the holiday on Christmas Eve, and on Christmas Day, it was all about Belle.”

  “I think it’s a great tradition.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’m happy to help keep it going.”

  “How’s your hand?” I carefully lift his hand to inspect his knuckles. “It looks a little better.”

  “It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it did. The ice helped with the swelling. Don’t let me forget to call someone to repair the tiles after we get back from Disney.”

  “I won’t.” I shake my head, still a little shocked he punched the wall last night. “Have you heard anything from John yet?”

  “The Escalade is no longer at Windsor, but that’s all we know so far.”

  Apparently, after I fell asleep, Kingston called his PI to give him the scoop on everything that happened to me last night.