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A quick look around the room shows everyone’s attention is focused on us.
“Excuse me?”
“Your problem?” she says condescendingly. “You appear out of nowhere and act like your shit doesn’t stink. You are sneezing all over the place, spreading your germs.”
Trying to choose my words, I look this girl over from head to toe. Her blonde hair comes from a bottle, the color unnatural and over-processed. Her tits are silicone, and her lips Botoxed. Nothing about this girl is natural. Her figure is similar to Dolly Parton.
The two girls flanking her aren’t much better. Thing One, on the left, also has her hair dyed blonde, not quite as platinum as the one in the middle. Thing Two, on the right, has coal-black hair with a bit of a wave to it. Both Thing One and Thing Two have thin waistlines, fake tits, and too much makeup.
Finally finding my voice as we continue to stare at each other, my tone is argumentative. These girls don’t know me; their hostility is unwarranted.
“I was sneezing at the amount of perfume you are wearing. Had you not bathed in it, there wouldn’t be an issue.”
Several people snicker at my statement, earning glares from the girls. As she gets herself geared up for a rant, a hand on her shoulder draws her attention away from me.
“Danica, leave her alone,” the deep voice sends chills down my spine.
Danica—as I now have a name—spins to face the guy, directing her irritation at him instead of me.
“Rodney, what the fuck? This bitch just insulted me. Why do you care what happens to her?”
It’s impressive that in just a few short words, she went from indignant outrage to whiny child.
Rodney whispers in her ear. She still wears a sour look as he pulls back but gives up on me. Rodney straightens, heading toward the back of the room.
Danica looks between me and him several times before calling out to Thing One and Thing Two.
“Let’s go girls.”
They stop off just as the professor enters the room.
* * *
Ihave been distracted all through class. When Danica first used the name Rodney, it didn’t sink in right away that it might be the same Rodney from last night.
Peeking over my shoulder several times, I caught him staring at me. He had a smirk pasted on his lips. One time, he blew me a kiss; another time, he winked at me. The whole encounter has been unsettling.
No doubt he has told his friends that I am still on campus. Only time will tell what they plan to do to me. Pushing the thought aside, I try to focus on the remainder of class.
Once the professor dismisses class, I quickly pack my stuff, hoping to get out ahead of Rodney. Luck isn’t on my side, though. Getting to my feet, heat hits my back, and warm breath wafts over my ear.
“Game on, Duchess.”
That’s all he says, laughter in his voice. My eyes follow Rodney as he exits the room. As he reaches the threshold, he turns around, catching me staring at him.
Rodney is a beautiful man, standing over six feet tall. His chocolate brown hair is cut close on the sides, longer on top, just enough to sweep to the side. He has just a dusting of hair on his jawline, with a hint of a mustache. He has piercing hazel eyes and is fit, with just enough muscle definition showing in the outline of his long-sleeved shirt. His jeans fit perfectly, cradling an ass you could bounce quarters off of. Rodney has more of a boy-next-door look than an apex predator.
After last night’s encounter, there is no doubt in my mind that he is, in fact, a predator, either. All four of them are.
I get my wits back as the next class starts to enter the room. Double-checking everything is in my bag, my feet take me to the door.
Just clearing the door, my body slams into a wall of muscle. I would have fallen if strong hands hadn’t grabbed me.
“Duchess, it’s good to see you this morning.”
My body locks up, recognizing the deep timbre belonging to Gareth Worthington. It’s easy to recognize since he did most of the talking last night. Gareth seems reluctant to let go of me as I step out of his grasp. Before managing my escape, he bends slightly to whisper in my ear, causing me to shiver.
“Game on, Duchess.”
