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John steps past me through the swinging doors in the partition. Stepping to the table and setting his briefcase down, he gives me one more glare as my father is escorted in.
I want to look around the room and apologize to Mr. Delroy and Mr. Atwater; also, convey my condolences to Mr. Carter’s son. John rushed me to my seat so quickly that it took everything to keep up with his rushed footsteps, let alone look around the room.
Quelling the urge, my posture is rigid, my face blank and focused on the judge’s bench as the bailiff calls, “All Rise.”
CHAPTERTWELVE
The trip to Pennsylvania for the preliminary trial went as expected. Since Franklin is such a small town, it was determined that the criminal trial would be held in Pittsburgh.
Hastings Ainsworth was denied bond and remanded to jail. He will also be transferred to the Allegheny County Jail.
The prosecution presented enough evidence that we only had one day in court. As promised, Rodney started drinking as soon as the plane took off. He has been drunk off his ass anytime he gets a free moment. The pending trial date looms over his head.
All of us were disappointed that we didn’t get a chance to speak with Kennedy. Observing her behavior and interactions with her father’s lawyer drives home a comment my father made about her restricted social life.
Deciding to head to the gym as a distraction, Cecelia steps in front of me, blocking the path.
“Where are you off to Callum?” She speaks with what she thinks is a seductive tone. In reality, it’s nauseating.
“The gym,” I say flatly, not impressed with the fluttering eyelashes and pouty lips.
“If you want to blow off some steam, maybe I could help you out?”
Cecelia steps closer to me, running a painted fingernail down the center of my chest.
A smile crosses my lips as an idea comes to mind. Grabbing the finger she is running along my torso, I tug her along, scanning the area.
Students mill around the quad, not paying us any attention as she tries to keep up with my long strides. Why this girl has to wear the stupid high-heels all the time makes no sense.
As a random guy exits a building, I step through the open door, dragging Cecelia with me.
She is almost as well known on campus as I am but for a completely different reason.
Finding the nearest restroom and yanking the door open, I shove her in and lock the door behind us. After making sure the room is clear, my hand rubs over my cloth-covered cock.
Cecelia eyes the movement, licking her lips in anticipation.
“On your knees,” I tell her, leaning against the wall, pulling the waistband of my shorts down far enough to pull out my dick.
She starts to reach for her own pants, causing me to scoff. There is zero chance of me fucking her.
“You suck me off, or we part ways; those are your two options. The four of you want a rich guy to leech off of—that won’t be me.”
She makes a face, still not moving. Tucking myself away, I reach over and unlock the door. Reaching for the handle, her voice stops me before the door opens.
“Wait!”
Slowly, she moves toward me. Moving back to my original spot, Cecelia drops to her knees before me. She seems somewhat repulsed at having to kneel on the bathroom floor. Reaching for my dick, I slap her hand away, pulling it out myself.
“Mouth only!”
Kneeling before me, she leans forward, mouth open. Taking the engorged head of my cock in her mouth, my head falls back, resting on my shoulders and the wall. Letting out a soft moan as she bobs up and down on my cock. Cecelia’s personality might be lacking, but her oral skills aren’t. She hollows out her cheeks, taking more of my length down her throat.
Images of a slim-framed blonde pops into my head. Instead of the made-up girl in front of me, it’s Kennedy Ainsworth that is bobbing on my throbbing cock. Grabbing a fist full of hair, my hips piston in earnest. Chasing my release, Cecelia gags on my length. My balls draw up as an orgasm quickly approaches.
Pulling from her mouth, grabbing my cock, and giving it a hard squeeze, I paint her face with my cum, calling out a name that shocks me.
“Kennedy!”
