AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
Sky
"Pretending you're reading something interesting?" The guy I hate the most walks into the classroom, and it's the first thing he says when he sees me with the book.
"You won't believe me, but literature without pics of naked girls can be fascinating, too," I say sarcastically without even looking at him, pretending I'm continuing to read.
"Let me see..." He leans closer and touches my hand, turning the book so that he can see the cover. "No, I don't think so."
When our skin brushes against each other, I feel the slight current passing between us and pull my hand away immediately, looking at him, surprised.
Why is he touching me? He knows I hate it when he does.
This man shouldn't make me feel such emotions. His presence shouldn't give me any feelings at all. I don't want that.
He grins contentedly when he sees my reaction. His dirty blond hair falls down on his face, and he moves it away with his hand. Even his darker than night brown eyes are glittering with pleasure when he realizes what an effect he has on me.
I immediately look away, pretending I'm reading again.
Luckily, it's "Origin" by Dan Brown, and it's exciting without a doubt. I'm glad he didn't see one of those books I hide behind my bed and pull out only when everyone else goes to sleep.
Those books are not for the public eye; even my mom doesn't know about them. The heroes in those books take their heroines the way they want to and whenever they want, which attracts me the most.
And that's precisely what I hate about Zac Harden: he's bold, bossy, arrogant and always gets what he wants because he's the most attractive human living on the earth. He has strong arms, broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, and a smile that most people would kill for.
He also happens to be my new stepbrother.
Our parents got married a couple of months ago. We moved from Vermont to Los Angeles because my mom got a job at Zac's father's company, and that's how they met.
Mom married her boss, Jack Harden, and we moved to his house in Beverly Hills. I started to go to a new school, "Elite Academy," or "Dirty Elite Academy," as everyone calls it because of so many bitches studying in one place.
If it weren’t for the students, I would actually really like this school. The teachers are some of the best in the country, and the school gives me so many opportunities. People who graduate from here can attend pretty much any college they want.
I've always dreamt about Yale, ever since the day I decided to become a writer, but I always thought that it would be impossible with my single mom's salary.
But my new stepfather, Jack, who’s a billionaire, told me that he'll pay any tuition required for me to attend the school I want.
I really like Jack. He's smart, generous, and kind. He's exactly the man my mom dreamed of.
But his son Zac is an entirely different story. When he saw me, the first thing he told me was that my lips were made for blow jobs.
What a jerk! How could he even think about that? We're siblings now, even though we're not related by blood.
When I first started attending the school, I realized why Zac is so arrogant: he's an athlete, a swimmer, and they are stars at this school. All the girls throw themselves at his feet.
All the girls but me,I remind myself. I will never let him have me, much less stick his dick into my throat.
Zac and I are not friends, not even close. We rarely speak at school, although we’re cordial at home to please our parents, because each time they see us together, they smile.
I hate Zac Harden, even though I think about him sometimes while reading those books that I hide under my bed, imagining that those are his hands that are touching me when I open my thighs and insert my middle finger inside myself.
I hate myself each time that I come thinking about him. He’s had so many girls that he's probably got every STD there is. On my first day at school, my classmate Kylie told me that Zac had slept with every single cheerleader.
Why the hell do I still want him after that?
And I wantall of him. I think about him a lot, especially when I touch myself, each time hoping that after it will pass.
It doesn't; it becomes stronger. A couple of months ago, I started dreaming about him. Once I called out his name in a dream, and when I opened my eyes, I saw him standing in front of my bed, asking me why I’d called him.
