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Things are so damn complicated now, making me ache for a simpler time. It’s amazing that I once thought high school was the worst time in my life. I dreamed of graduating and, somehow, winding up at Groveton College, where I convinced myself my dreams would come true.
Now, I realize how delusional I was. After being thrust into the entitled world of the elites, it’s not remotely what I thought it would be. And after spending the past two weeks in the Whitmore estate, I have no desire to be a part of it.
Although classes start on Monday, I already know that I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb among the entitled elites of this world. It makes me depressed thinking about it, reminding me too much of the last time I didn’t fit in. All because of one quarterback and his lies that ruined my life at Filmore High School
Now I’m here at Groveton, and already it’s off to a bad start. I’m certain Evan is going to make my life pure hell. Just like he did.
I want to be optimistic and believe that Evan isn’t like him. There are moments when Evan is nice to me, but then I remember my high school nemesis pretending to be nice. He pretended to care, only to destroy me.
But there’s no going back. I don’t have the money to live on my own, and even if I did, my childhood home was put up for sale and is under contract already.
The only thing I can do is grin and bear it, conforming just like everyone wants. Changing me into a new, improved version of Alexis Renee Morgan since the current one isn’t good enough.
Although I have no idea why she isn’t.
I hope I can somehow survive this new world.
Closing my diary, I pull open the top drawer of my nightstand and put it inside. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I stand, looking out the window at the darkness blanketing the land. If I were to describe my mood as a color, I’d say it’s black. Bleak, heavy, and fearful.
No, stop it, Lexi. Don’t give in to it. You’re letting the bastards win by making you miserable.
Rebellion courses through me as I head for my playlist. It’s time to use Gram’s cure for everything— dance.
Turning up the volume, I lose myself in the music, shaking my hips and grinding against the bedposts. I’m still turned on by Evan working me up in the bathroom and leaving me hanging.Maybe I should get out the new toy I bought. I haven’t used it yet.
The song changes, and I smile. It’s a sign of what I need to do.
As the sensual notes of the song fill my earbuds, I change the rhythm of my hips to match it, pretending I’m dancing with a faceless man who desperately wants to make love to me like the guy in this song.
My cheeks burn as I grab the toy from my suitcase. Tossing it on the bed, my hand wraps around the ornate dark cherry post, and I lose myself in the fantasy, pretending I’m dancing for a man whose smoldering gray eyes burn into mine. I ignore the fact that they are the exact shade as Evan’s.
My hand glides beneath my shirt, running over my hard nipples as he watches me, desire and need all over his face.
My other hand slides beneath the waistband of my sweatpants as I bite my lower lip, watching his eyes burn like a damn inferno as my imaginary, hopelessly in love-with-me man grabs his large, throbbing cock and strokes it. My mouth is dry, my breaths coming faster as I watch him, his muscular back pressed against my pillows.
Just because his body looks like Evan’s doesn’t mean a damn thing. Nor does touching myself the way he touched me earlier.
My head falls back as the pleasurable sensations course through my body, my fingers working their magic. But I’m in control this time, and no one will leave me hanging.
I quickly strip off my clothes, hitting the button on my phone to play the song again as my knees sink into the soft mattress. Crawling to the center of the bed, I grab the vibrator, a tingle of fear shooting through my spine. It’s larger than anything I’ve ever used before.
Losing myself in the chorus of the song, I start moving my hips, turning the vibrator on, and pressing it against my clit. Like an out-of-control train, my thoughts careen back to the bathroom and the heat burning from Evan’s charcoal eyes as he fingered me, his dirty and sexy as fucking sin voice ringing in my ears.
Just pretend it’s him pleasing you. It’ll be your dirty little secret.
By the time I shove the vibrator inside me, I’m a soaked mess of uncontrollable desire. Moving the toy in and out of me like Evan did with his fingers earlier, my thumb circles my clit, his voice ringing in my ears.
“That’s it, sweetie. Take what I’m giving you. So fucking wet for me.”
I moan, forgetting about everything except the feel of the toy inside me, which has changed to Evan’s cock. His smoky eyes are bright with lust and passion, an uncontrollable hunger that only I can satisfy as he pounds into me.
God, it’s so wrong to pretend it’s him.
His voice is inside my head.
“Shhhh. Stop worrying about what we should and shouldn’t do. Focus on the pleasure. How good I’m making you feel.”
His name slips out as a breathy whisper as my body quakes beneath his, the orgasm slamming over me as I hear him whisper, “That’s it. Soak me with your juices. I want every fucking drop of your cum.”
