Page 1 of Daddy Brigadier

PROLOGUE

LEXI SUMMER

Fuck!This college party is boring!

The music blasts, drowning out the girl’s laughter as she spills her drink on my arm. A fucking sorry would be nice, but she’s too drunk to even notice what she’s done. I casually wipe the wet droplet from my skin onto the shirt of the guy standing next to me. He’s unfazed, too engrossed watching his fraternity brothers tossing a small white ball into cups filled with beer.

I hardly hear my phone ring, but it vibrates in my pocket, so my hand delves in to retrieve it. It’s Ruby again. My finger clicks on decline, then I tuck the phone back into my pocket once more.

“Is something wrong?” the frat boy I’ve been flirting with for the last hour asks, clearly sensing my distraction.

I lean closer, lightly tracing my finger along his chin. “I’m bored.” And he knows exactly what that means.

“How about we head upstairs to my room?” A playful smirk graces his lips as he takes a sip of his beer, his eyes lingering on me.

“That sounds fun.” My hand glides over his chiseled abs, tantalizingly close to his groin.

He slams down the beer on the table, and I quickly snatch the bottle of cheap whiskey from the table, struggling to balance it with my red cup. Immediately, he guides me up the stairs.

A solitary shrill whistle comes as if from nowhere, capturing our attention.

The frat boy—his firm hand now gripping my ass—flashes a grin, gesturing toward his frat brother chugging down a beer as if it’s the last one he will ever drink. “I got the next game.”

His room is shrouded in darkness, heaps of random clothing items scattered here and there across the floor, and just the softest light flickering in the corner, mood lighting—not that we need any. He draws me in, his solid cock pressing against my waist, and he leans in for a kiss. I pull back, a playful smile on my lips.

“Let’s have a drink first!” Raising the whiskey bottle, I pour a shot and down it in a single gulp.

With my head buzzing, I push him onto the bed, and he leans back on his arms, his eyes fixed on me. “You’re fucking hot.”

Still holding the whiskey, I saunter over to his desk and pour a generous amount into a cup, then glance back at him, a teasing smile on my lips. “You better have condoms.”

“Fuck yeah, I do,” he says, turning to rummage through his nightstand. “My dad would kill me if I got a chick pregnant in college.”

He’s too busy tearing open the fiddly condom packet to notice me slipping my fingers in between my breasts. I retrieve a tiny bottle tucked inside my bra and pour the drug into the cup. A few drops spill onto his laptop, and I notice a camera perched on top.

“Here,” I coax him, urging him to take a sip as I settle on his lap, tilting his head back and pouring the alcohol into his mouth.

“Shit!” he gasps, choking on the liquid as it dribbles down his chin.

The sight of it oddly tempts me to lean down and catch it with my tongue, pushing him back against the mattress. “Baby, come ride me.”

I climb onto him, wrapping my thighs around his waist. My fingers snake inside his pocket to find his cell phone.

He’s barely conscious by this time, looking sleepy, but happy at the same time. Leaning down, I take a playful bite of his exposed neck, and he jerks up, giving me just enough of his eyes to unlock the phone.

I clamber off him, looking back to see the stupid frat boy who is now completely passed out on the bed.

I open his laptop to find the password screen, just a minor inconvenience because within a minute, the password shows up, stored right there on his phone. Bypassing the other files, I quickly manage to find the folder containing a sex video of him and the daughter of a prominent businessman. With a few keystrokes, I upload the video to a secure server.

Mission accomplished and payment in full!

I slam the laptop shut and head for the door, but then pause. Those unsuspecting, drunken college girls likely had no clue they were being recorded, did they?

My annoyance is enough to make me turn back, reopen the laptop, and erase the hard drive.

Hurrying down the stairs, the guy from earlier is standing in front of me, “Hey, where’s my boy?”

“Taking a shower,” I say, striding by, my shoulder brushing his as I walk past him and out the back door. Just as I’m cutting across the fraternity lawn, my phone vibrates.