AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I knew it’d be hard,” he murmurs, “I just didn’t think I’d be so wiped out on day one.”
“It’s just the school gossip cycle,” Danny says pragmatically. “You’ll be old news within the week.”
“And I’m not going to make this an easy ride for them, either,” Rory assures Luke, coming to stand behind me. He wraps his arms around my waist. If this were anyone else, I’d believe this would be him trying to lay claim to me in some way. But it’s Rory, and being caught between Rory and Luke feels more like a dare, an encouragement of some kind to move into Luke’s personal space, and my pulse flutters high in my throat. “Look at them. Baxter, Belly and the Dodgy Doc really think they can rule this school whilewe’rehere. They’re a trio of twats. They’ve got nothing on us.”
“Don’t,” Luke says wearily, his thumb caressing the side of my hand. “I don’t want to talk about them anymore. Or me. Or any of this madness.” He glances at me with eyes so dark he makes it too easy to fall into their depths. “I want to forget who I am. Right now… I just want to be normal again.”
Rory’s hands run up my front, casually skimming my breasts before holding me tight in a brace position between his arms. He cocks his head to the side of my neck and says, “Fin, how many cakes are there?”
Finlay quickly adds up the small glistening pile of frosted and decorated cakes between him and Danny. “Fifty-two,” he says, sounding utterly drained. “Dae I finally get tae eat wan noo?”
I feel Rory’s chest reverberate rather than hear his soft laugh. “I have an idea.” He kisses the side of my neck tenderly, still holding me tight between his arms. “You don’t mind getting sticky, do you, little saint?”
His voice is dark, his words a tease. I swallow, staring at Luke. For Rory, I think I’d do anything — and I believe he’s all too aware of this. I don’t massage his ego, however. “If I must.”
He chuckles darkly into my ear, and warm shivers scatter down my spine. Okay, so he can detect when I’m holding back. Luke watches me in fascination, as Rory’s fingers dig into the blades of my shoulders from behind.
“Go over to him,” Rory instructs in a whisper, planting a kiss so firm and possessive to my cheek that it feels like his signature. His claim. He gives me a small nudge in Luke’s direction and it takes all my effort to walk in a straight line when my heart is pounding like war drums, just from being under the spell of Luke’s intense gaze.
Luke raises his arms and catches me at the foot of his bed. I settle in his lap, admiring the sculpted sheen of his cheekbones, his exquisite lips, the thick flare of eyelashes and the noble forehead that had been designed to rock a crown. This close to Luke, as his arms encircle me, it’s easy to believe that the boy is more god than king, fully earning his new description ofbonny.
I play with his plump mouth distractedly, stroking his soft lips with my fingertips, tracing the fierce, majestic dip of his Cupid’s bow. I sense movement in the background but I can’t tear my eyes away from Luke, from the profound serenity that radiates from him. My heart may be thundering, but being inside his arms brings a much-needed level of calm. The room may be soaring in temperature, clandestine heat radiating between the pair of us, but I’m lulled by the kindness in his eyes.
“Good,” Rory murmurs as I stroke Luke’s mouth as though enchanted. I turn to see Rory holding one of the frosted cakes in his hand for me to take. “You know the way to his mouth. I think our fellow chief deserves a sweet treat tonight, don’t you?”
I stare down at the dainty-looking cake, unsure what I’m supposed to do with it.
Rory catches my puzzled expression. “Hand-feed it to Luke.”
Flutters instantly fill my belly at the thought. There’s sex and then there’s — well, there’s intimacy. And intimacy among each of us is still as novel as, and perhaps even scarier, than sex.
I hear Luke swallow beside me. His mouth opens softly, as if to protest, but the intention dies on his lips the instant I accept the sugar-glazed cake from Rory’s outstretched hand. Instead, Luke gathers me close, scooping my body flush against him so that I’m positioned at a side angle to his chest. It feels strange to tower over Luke, the tallest boy in school, so substantially. It feels powerful.
The small cake is weightier than it looks. It sparkles with encrusted sugar around the sides, a sheet of pure white frosting on top covered with little rainbow sprinkles. It looks so charming that it almost seems a shame to eat it, though my stomach disagrees and growls at its mere proximity.
I glance between Luke and Rory. “Shouldn’t I… I mean, you had taste testers,” I point out in a grave tone. “It’s only fair that I should take a bite and make sure all is adequate—”
Luke laughs at my bravado. “The one good thing about all this is that I finally get to eat some proper food whenever the hell I want.” He lurches forward, trying to take a big bite out of the cake but I pull it away sharply. “Damn it, Jessa.”
“Play nice,” I chide, and the laughter in Luke’s eyes tells me he’s enjoying himself. Already he looks a thousand times lighter than he did this morning.
I begin to open up the cake with my fingers. The scent of sugar only grows heavier in the dorm. I glance behind me to see Danny and Finlay watching me from the bed next to Rory’s. “Sorry for destroying your creation,” I say, and the two of them shrug like it’s not that important anyway. Their eyes are avid on me, tracking my every move. It’s like they’re watching a show of some kind, and I have to clamp down on the urge to perform.
What I don’t need to perform, however, is my interest in Luke. The longer I sit on his lap, the more comfortable I become in his arms.
I tear off a piece of the cake, thickly coated in frosting. It should be the strangest thing I’ve ever done, preparing to hand-feed cake to a prince. And yet it’s not. It’s intimate and weirdly caring.
Holding the piece of cake close to Luke’s dark lips, I take one last glance at Rory for assurance. His arms are folded and he’s watching us from his bed like we’re the only two in the room. It’s not jealousy that burns in his silver eyes but something more meaningful, more precious: outright affection.
The affection is countered, however, by the low growl in his voice when he commands Luke: “Open up.”
