AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Biting my lip, I turn to face him, straddling my legs over his spread ones. “There’s no touching,” I say, moving my hips against him.
“I can do whatever I want, but lucky you, I don’t want to touch you.”
Ouch. “Why?” It slips out before I can stop it. I throw my head back, so I don’t have to face him, my back arching as my breast push into his face. I balance my arms on his knees.
“Because.” His breath skates across my breasts, causing my nipples to harden.
I decided to not probe him for an answer as he begins slipping bills into the sides on my G-string, his fingers tracing the straps on my hips.
I begin to grow wet from my hips grinding against the hard erection under his jeans. Beckett’s hand wraps around my neck, jerking me to look at him. His face is so close, I can count the brown and green streaks in his eyes. “If you’re going to get off on my lap, you’re going to fucking look at me.”
I swallow, my eyes dilating as his other hand spans across my hip, rocking me harder against him. I’m so shamelessly close I can feel it. If it wasn’t for the music, I’m sure I’d get to hear the messy noises he has me making. My mouth falls open, eyes still connected with his lust-filled ones as I begin to tip over the edge. The music stops, and Beckett pushes me off his lap and onto the floor. “What the fuck?” It comes out as a whine instead of the anger I was going for. He stands, peering down at me with a look of disgust before he tosses a wad of cash at me and leaves.
I’ve never felt dirty doing my job, but tonight… tonight I do. And it is all thanks to Beckett fucking Cutler.
* * *
When I get backto my dorm, everything is quiet. Prim must already be asleep. Can’t stay up too late when you wake up at the crack of dawn, I guess. I tiptoe to my room, missing the one spot on the floor in the hall that always makes a loud creak. I close my door before turning on the lights. I stop at the foot of my bed, my eyes zeroing in on the black bandana that rests on my pillow.
I go through stages of emotions. The first, fucking terrified. The second, relief because I’m good enough to get into this so-called selective club. Which is stupid, I know. I don’t need validation about how I’m the shit, but it’s nice. And third, the absolute stupidest of them all… intrigued. Maybe it’s too many crime shows before bed, but I think I can solve this murder now that I’ve been welcomed into the lion’s den.
5
Beckett
I runto escape my demons. To drown out the voices in my head. To lift the weight of the world from my shoulders for one small moment. Most people believe I run for my health, to keep this body girls are so eager to get under in shape.
I fuck for the same reason. The pleasure of not having to think is my climax. To get lost in soft skin and hot lips. My hands tangling in silky strands of hair. I gladly accept having the title of manwhore. One that doesn’t care whether his conquests get off. But hey, they got to ride the one and only Beckett Cutler, right?
It’s pathetic. The way they fall at my feet and excuse my behavior. Sometimes I want to shake them, scream at them to know their worth. But honestly, some of them may get off on that as well. Again, I don’t really fucking care.
I slow to a stop as I approach her dorm, peering up at her window as if I can will her to appear before me. I shake my head, looking away from her window and into the trees. Sighing when I see Vance perched on the branch closest to the dorm window. “The fuck are you doing?” I call up to him.
He shrugs his big shoulders. “Enjoying the view.”
I rub my forehead. “Get down from there.”
Vance grins, swinging his body to the ground and walking to me. Shirtless, covered in tattoos that beg to be splashed with holy water. “I don’t take orders from you.” He nods his chin at me.
I shake my head. “That’s fine, but we have shit to discuss. Did you pick your pledge?”
His eyes linger back to the window. “Sure did.”
“You didn’t.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I begin to jog again, Vance shadowing me as I think over my decision. Have I made the right one or will I end up regretting it?
* * *
I slipon my shirt as I walk down the stairs of the house we have on campus. A two-story, smaller than anything we’ve ever experienced in our lives. I find Amiyah in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar, still in her robe. I walk to the cabinets, grabbing a cup and pouring some coffee. I lean against the opposite side of Amiyah. She narrows her eyes at me, spooning some granola into her mouth.
“I thought I heard you last night,” I begin, hiding my smirk as her body grows stiff. “Funny, I went to your room to see if you were okay, but your bed was empty. In fact, I tracked your voice to—”
“Shut up,” she hisses.
I smile, shrugging. “I have a vivid imagination. You know that.” I take a sip of my coffee. “Find your pledge?”
