The Elite Kings Boxset Vol. II

by Amo Jones

  “You know,” I say, pouring in the vodka and then opening the orange juice. “When I started at Riverside, I had no idea what to expect. All my other schools? It was difficult.”

  “How so? You’re probably the coolest chick I’ve ever met,” Tillie says, and then looks to Tatum. “No offense.”

  Tatum clutches her heart in mock hurt and then giggles.

  “Because I just didn’t... fit in. Girls would just flat out hate me.” I shook my head. “Anyway, the only school I sort of did fit in—but somehow still didn’t—was in Minnesota. And that’s only because I was dating the quarterback.” I laugh. “He was popular, and everyone hated that I was the girl he chose, but they didn’t voice it.” I take a swig of my drink. “At least not until we broke up.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation,” Tatum murmurs, sinking her drink, “no one has liked me as much as you two do either. But... I’ve never liked them either, so it worked out well.”

  I smile, holding up my drink. “To us!” We clink and then swallow our drinks.

  Tatum lies down. “Are we being unsociable by not being out there drinking with everyone else?”

  I lean back on my elbows. “Probably, but we never liked any of them before we came here, so who cares?”

  “Knock, knock!”

  “Don’t come in. We’re naked!” Tatum laughs dramatically.

  The zipper rips open, and Carter steps inside with a grin. “Aw, I’m disappointed.” He drops down beside me. “Why are you girls hiding out in here?”

  I giggle, leaning up and pouring more vodka and orange juice into my cup. “Because we can.”

  “Oh, I see.” Carter grins. “My beer not good enough for you?”

  I look at him, noticing where Bishop’s eyes are dark green and smoldering, Carter’s are bright and lively. Where Bishop’s bottom lip has a slight pout to it, Carter’s are average at best. Where Bishop’s skin is soft, tan, and glistens in the sun, Carter’s is pale white but has a slight blush to his cheeks that is—undoubtedly—adorable. Carter also has a single dip in his chin too that I also find adorable.

  I look back into his eyes to find him looking at me with a smug grin. “Like what you see?”

  I see Tatum whips her head toward us out the corner of my eye. I take a drink. “Meh.” I shrug. He elbows me playfully and we both laugh. I know Carter was with someone else last night, just like I was, but I don’t care. I don’t have any emotional attachments to Carter. I don’t hate him. I don’t anything him. He’s just pretty to look at sometimes.

  “So.” Tatum rolls onto her stomach as I grab another cup and fill him up. “I heard you hooked up with Jenny Prescott last night?” She wiggles her eyebrows for added effect. “I heard she can do this little trick with her—”

  “Stop,” Carter laughs, almost choking on his drink. “But yeah, she does a trick.”

  “Oh, gross,” I mutter, looking to Tillie.

  “Jealous?” Carter grins at me. Oh, dear.

  “Definitely not.”

  His smile falls slightly.

  “I can back her answer, because she was with—”

  I hit Tatum with my leg.

  “Oh?” Carter quirks. “With who?”

  “No one. With myself.” I smile at him.

  “Oh, I see. No kiss and tell?”

  I zip my lips and throw away the key. “Never.”

  He leans back on his elbow, taking a sip of his drink. Bishop and I never had the conversation about how open we are about sleeping with other people, even though that’s not how I am at all. And even though I did make him say it just before sex, I don’t think that counts. Carter looks up at me. “Whoever it is, be careful, yeah?”

  I look down at him, very aware of how close he is to me. I nod. “Of course.”

  He smiles sadly then takes another drink, just as the tent entrance pulls over and in walks Bishop, Nate, and Hunter.

  Bishop looks to Carter, his jaw slightly clenched, and suddenly, I feel guilty. Why the hell do I feel guilty? There were no promises made between us. But even so, I can say without a shadow of doubt that I don’t like being near any other guy but Bishop. Having Carter so close to me doesn’t feel right, but having Bishop sucking on my flesh does.

  Bishop’s eyes narrow on me, taking in Carter and me. He instantly has the wrong idea. Surprise, surprise. Instead of throwing a hissy fit, though, Bishop takes a seat beside Tatum as she pours them all a drink.

  “Party in our tent then?” She looks to Bishop, Nate, and Hunter. Bishop’s eyes haven’t moved from me, so I look to Tatum, handing her my cup. “Another?” She raises her eyebrows. “If I didn’t know better, Montgomery, I’d say you want to get wasted.”

  I shrug. “Well, since I didn’t get to have any last night...” I look at Bishop with a fake smile. “Yes, I want more.”

  Nate shuffles over to the other side of me, his arm wrapping around my waist. I close my eyes, calming my breathing. “Sis,” he whispers into my ear, his hair tickling my earlobe. “I’m sorry.”

  I open my eyes and look at him wide-eyed. “For what?”

  “Everything, but most importantly, what’s still to come.” His eyes search mine desperately. Every sharp angle of his jaw and his straight nose pisses me off.

  “I’m sick of the riddles,” I whisper.

  He grins and then leans into me, running his lips over my cheek. “I know.” Then he pulls me closer to him and noticeably away from Carter. I take my drink from Tatum, bringing it to my lips.

  “Music!” Tillie says, looking between me and Nate uncomfortably. I look back at Bishop, who is leaning into Tatum, and she is looking at me in silent question.

  Jesus. What sort of fucked up group are we?

  I shake my head at Tillie, hoping she knows Nate and I are not like that. Tillie pulls out her sound dock and hits Play on Escape the Fate’s “One For The Money.” I smirk at her. I love her taste in music; it’s so different from Tatum and Nate’s hip-hop obsession. Not that I dislike hip-hop, I just have an eccentric taste in music and like to listen to different genres all at once, not the same over and over again.

  Nate pulls out what looks like a brown cigarette, and then pulls out a Zippo, sparking it up. He takes a big toke and then passes it to me. I fight internally with myself before thinking, Fuck it, and taking the cigarette off him. The sweet, woodsy smell of marijuana smoke fills the tent and engulfs my senses.

  Nate points to the tent entrance. “Bumboy, close the tent!” Carter looks at him with narrowed eyes before getting up and shutting the entrance.

  I bring it to my mouth and inhale like I’ve seen in movies. Thanks, Redman and Methodman. The smoke hits me right in my throat and then in my chest. I cough spastically, my lungs feeling like they’re closing up, before handing it to Carter. A second later, my eyes are heavy and the thick smoke that’s starting to fog up the tent all starts to swim around everyone’s frames, slowly getting thicker and thicker.

  I lean into Nate and laugh. “Are we hot-boxing the tent?”

  He kisses me on the head. “Yeah, kitty, we are.”

  My eyes find Bishop’s. He’s leaning on his elbow, but slightly into Tatum. His legs are sprawled out in front of him, but again, it looks like he’s open to her. He grins at me, and then leans into her, whispering something into her ear. Anger, jealousy, and hate fills me to the brink as I look to Tillie, trying to find something to take my mind off whatever the fuck Bishop is doing.

  “Tillie! Come here.” I wave her over as she takes a long hit on the joint. “Whoa,” I laugh, as she takes a seat between Nate and me. “You’re hitting that like a pro.”

  She shrugs. “I mean, it isn’t my first time.”

  Nate grabs onto her and places her on top of his lap. “You’re so fucking sexy right now. I could eat you.”

  “Please don’t,” I murmur, taking the joint from Tatum and bringing it to my mouth before taking another hit. This time, it goes down my airways a little smoother. I let the taste sit on
my tongue, closing my eyes and feeling every inch of myself relax and loosen. All the stresses and worries I had thirty minutes ago mean nothing. Bishop across from me whispering sweet nothings into Tatum’s ear? Means nothing. I lay on my back with the joint between my fingers.

  Carter bends over on his elbow, taking the joint from me. “The thing is for sharing, Madi. Puff, puff, pass!” He laughs, moving in closer to me once again.

  I laugh. “Oh, Carter,” I announce loudly. “I don’t share anything, and if something of mine thinks I do share, I can show them in more ways than one on how I don’t.”

  The tent falls silent, everyone understanding the meaning in my words. Everyone but Carter. Stupid Carter. I bring my hand up to my face, an inch away, but the smoke is so thick I can barely make out the outline of my fingers.

  “But!” I add. “Good thing I’m a free agent, huh?”

  A hand glides up my leg, and I know it’s not Bishop’s slightly rough hand. This hand is too soft. “Yeah, lucky for me.”

  I turn my head toward where I know Carter is.

  Nate laughs, but it sounds like it’s muffled. “Maybe we should get Hunter someone to play with. Then this can be one big orgy.”

  Filled with anger, betrayal, and jealousy—jealousy, because Tatum probably has Bishop’s hands on her—my thoughts pause. My core clenches and sweat beads on my head. The thought fills me with excitement, hate, jealousy, and... lust? Why? Why does that thought turn me on? Annoyed at myself for being such a mess, I turn onto my stomach.

  “Naw.” I giggle, my eyes lazy and my movements slow. I rest my head down on my arm. “Hunter can play with me. I can take two... just ask Bishop. He knows just how much I can take in bed.”

  Hands wrap around my ankles, and I’m suddenly tugged roughly, flipping onto my back. Yeah, those hands... those are Bishop’s. The weight of a body falls over me, lips coming down to my ear. He pulls my lobe into his mouth. “Careful, kitty. I don’t share either.”

  “You be careful.” I shove at his chest and he laughs. “Go back to doing what you were doing.”

  Bishop pulls out his phone and flashes it into the corner, where two people are making out. Hunter and Tatum. They must have connected after the smoke got too thick.

  “Hmm,” I murmur, tilting my head.

  He looks back to me, pressing his lips against mine. “But the questions is, why did that bother you so much, kitty? Do we need to have the talk?”

  Carter murmurs from behind me, “I’m just going to go.” Then he slips out of the tent quickly, letting some of the smoke out, but not all. At least now I can see the profile of Bishop’s face, just as Breaking Benjamin’s “The Diary of Jane” starts playing out of the dock.

  “I don’t know. I’m not very good at this,” I reply.

  “At what?” he whispers across my lips, pushing me down onto my back with his body. He stretches my legs wide with his, resting in between until his bulge is digging into me—right there. “At this!” I gesture between us. “I... I don’t think I can do it and not feel, Bishop. I’m not you.”

  “Feel this.” He takes my hand and brings it down, pressing it against his thick-headed cock. “That’s all you need to feel.”

  “I warned you.”

  He ignores me, grinding his hips into me. “I might know what I’m doing.” He brings his lips back to mine and kisses me, his tongue entering my mouth, and I massage it with my own.

  “I have no doubt that you do. It’s me I’m worried about.”

  “As you should be,” Nate warns from somewhere in the thick smoke. “Just for the record, if you cause one teardrop from her eyes, B, I get one swing.”

  Bishop chuckles against my lips. “She understands the guidelines of the game. No. Feelings,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on my lips after each word.

  “Yeah, except she’s a girl—shocking, I know—and they always feel. How you feeling right now, Tillie?” he murmurs seductively.

  “Oh stop!” I shuffle up. “We are not all going to have sex in the same room.”

  Tatum groans from the back. “Speak for yourself.”

  “Nope!” I launch off the floor, walking toward the tent entrance and pulling it open, the crisp, fresh mountain air awakening me somewhat. Bishop comes after me, taking my hand. “What’s wrong?”

  I turn to look at him, searching his eyes. “Nothing. Just... my friends are sort of skanks.”

  He laughs, tucking me under his arm. “Yeah, that I can agree with.”

  Later that night, I’m sitting on one of the logs surrounding the bonfire, with Bishop next to me talking with Cash, his arm around my waist.

  Tatum comes bouncing up to me, handing me a drink. “Sorry about before.”

  I laugh, shaking my head and patting the spot beside me. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She leans on my shoulder. “One more night here.”

  “Yup.” I pop the P. One more night, and all I want to do is read my book. I don’t want to pull it out here, because someone might recognize it, and then Miss Winters might land her ass in trouble. So instead, I’ve had to let it burn in the back of my brain. But Bishop has been keeping my brain and body occupied, so it hasn’t been that hard. But alas, I’m still struggling with the urge to read what else is going on. The train of thoughts she was feeling has evoked something deep inside of me that I can’t let go of.

  “So you and Bishop? All out in the open?” Tate whispers into my ear.

  I bite down on my lower lip and shrug. “I don’t know, but I think so?”

  She laughs, shoving me playfully. “Well, just be careful. Don’t show him all your cards.”

  “Is this you giving me advice?” I whisper back loudly into her face.

  “Yes!” she hisses with a grin. “I’m too pretty for prison, and I will kill him if he hurts you.”

  I laugh, shaking my head while taking a sip of my drink. “Thanks, Tate.”

  I look toward Bishop to find him staring at me. He swallows the rest of his drink and then tugs on my hand. “Come on.”

  Cash is staring at me with a hint of a smug grin on his face.

  The music changes to Red Jumpsuit Apparatus’s “Your Guardian Angel,” as we slowly dodge people and make our way deeper into the forest.

  “Is this the part where you kill me?” I joke, our fingers lacing together. My heart skips a beat with how right it feels to have him so close.

  He looks at me over his shoulder. “You laugh now...,” he teases.

  My smile falls. “I swear to God, Bishop, if this is ano—”

  “Shut up!” He spins around, pressing his finger to my lips. “Stop talking.” His eyes slice through every single restraint I thought I had. I nod and he drops his hand. “Good.” He keeps walking deeper into the forest, dodging fallen limbs as I follow his lead.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “It’s not far.” We keep walking for another twenty minutes, and then he stops, facing a thick area of shrubs. “What’s this?” I ask, tilting my head.

  He pushes through a thick bush and steps ahead.

  “Bishop?” The bush flies back into the same position it was in.

  “Step through, kitty. Stop bitching out.”

  I push my hands through and separate the little sharp branches, and then step one foot in until I’m on the other side. Letting it go, it flings back into place and I wipe my hands on my legs. “Jesus, what—” All thoughts skyrocket out of my head. “Oh my gosh,” I whisper, stepping forward and taking in the surroundings. The bright moonlight is reflecting off the silky still water of the lake, and there’re thousands upon thousands of fireflies that have lit up the dark, murky forest around us. It looks stunning, something out of a storybook. I step forward again, and Bishop’s hand finds mine. Slipping off my shoes, I let my toes sink into what looks like silicon sand. “How’d you know about this place?” I ask, looking back at Bishop.

  He shrugs, stepping up to me and taking a seat in the sand. “We sort of had to do
a once-over of the perimeter—you know, to scare this chick....”

  I shove him. “Dick.”

  He laughs, his pearly teeth gleaming against his tan skin, reflecting off the moonlight. He tugs on my hand. “Sit.”

  I follow his command, shuffling into his warmth. “This weekend hasn’t been something I expected.”

  He nods in agreement. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  “Pretty sure you knew your intentions.” I roll my eyes.

  “Maybe—” He grins, looking out over the water. “—but you’re not like most girls.” He looks back at me. “You’ve never made shit easy for me.”

  “I don’t know,” I murmur. “I seem to be an easy slut when it comes to you.”

  He laughs, leaning back on his elbow. “You’re not a slut, Madison. You’re just a chick who loves to explore her sexuality. In whose eyes does that make you a slut?” he questions. I pause. He continues, “It doesn’t matter. What they think of you isn’t your business. But you’re not a slut. I know sluts, and trust me, if you were one...” He stops, grinning at me again. Smug bastard. “There would be no way in hell you’d be caught bouncing on my dick.”

  “Charming.” I roll my eyes. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into him more. “Why would I need to be charming?” he mocks. “You’re a slut, remember?”

  I shove him, trying to contain my laughter. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “No.”

  “Well I’m asking you anyway,” I mutter, lying flat on my back and gazing up at the twinkling of the stars. “What happened to your ex?” Silence. Maybe I overstepped the line? No, I know I overstepped the line. I knew I was before I even opened my mouth.

  “Who told you about her?” he asks, relaxing his grip around my body.

  “A few people.”

  “Tatum.” He shakes his head, then whispers, “That girl has the biggest mouth in the history of Riverside.”

  “Hey!” I shove him again. “That’s my best friend.”

  “Well then I take back my earlier statement,” he declares, though I know there’s a hint of humor in his tone. “You definitely have shitty judgment.”