BEAUTIFUL PRINCE

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VAN DER BORNE UNIVERSITY BOOK 1

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 DAKOTA LEE

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OceanofPDF.com
Beautiful Prince
Copyright © 2021 Dakota Lee
All rights reserved.
Photographer: GVS
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this
publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any
form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the
prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the over publisher of this book. This is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and
trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used
without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or
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 WARNING

Darling reader,

Beautiful Prince is a new adult, dark college, bully romance intended for
mature readers, 18+. This book is part of a trilogy and ends on a cliffhanger.

This mature new adult romance contains bullying, dubious situations,

blackmail, crude language, and intense sexual content that some readers
might find triggering or offensive.

Please proceed with caution.

The book is part of a trilogy and is NOT a standalone.

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 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

When I decided to sit in front of the computer and write a book, I didn’t
know how many highs and lows I would experience or how much worry I
would have when it finally came time for sharing it with others.

A special thank you goes out to my beta readers AJ, Rickan, Susan, and
Tracie. Thank you for providing such valuable insight and feedback on the
story. You guys gave me that last boost of confidence I needed to hit
publish.

And to you, readers, thank you for taking a chance on an unknown author
and reading this book. I hope I was able to give you a guilt free escape from
the business of life.

Until next time,

Dakota

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 BEAUTIFUL PRINCE

Van der Borne University

Home to the
Privileged. Powerful. Elite

My friends and I own this school, ruling it with our lavish parties, twisted
games and scandalous bets.

Then she showed up threatening our hierarchy, refusing to play, refusing to

bow. So now, I’ll make an example of her. Turning her into an unwitting
pawn on my board.

I’ll win her trust and pull her into the dark depraved world I command,
taking away everything that matters to her.

When I’m done she’ll be an empty shell, and this will be my greatest
triumph.

Because the most satisfying type of destruction is the one they never see
coming.

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 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Epilogue

Sneak Peek at Broken Princess

Prologue
1. Chapter One

About the Author

Connect with Dakota

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The games we play…

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 CHAPTER ONE

F rankie crosses the room like the air and space belong only to him. I
guess in a way it does since this is his family's lake house. We're
taking it easy this last week of vacation before everyone returns to school.
Call it a reset, if you will. Nothing gets the creative juices flowing like time
away from the extravagance and debauchery of our everyday lives.
Exhaling a forceful breath, I watch as my friend makes his way across the
floor. A bit of 'every day' has made its way into the party. I can tell by the
determined set of his shoulders, that Frankie's on a mission to satisfy a bet.
Tonight's task is simple compared to some other ones he's taken part in, and
if you ask me, this bet is premature.
The first bet or dare of the school year usually happens around
homecoming. It's an unspoken expectation that we take the first few weeks
back on campus to prepare for it. These aren't merely random musings of
bored young adults. We crossed the threshold of I dare you to drink hot
sauce years ago. The bets are never benign. The stakes have to be worth
something. Tonight, the Aston Martin Valkyrie Hal's dad brought last
Christmas is worth Frankie giving up something. The thrill of smashing it
into a wall is worth something more.
I see Destiny Silver's little sister Dynasty on the other end of the patio
door. Ah. So it's time to implode his summer fling, in public, with the baby
sister. Destiny's gonna have his balls for this. Hal's on the chair across from
me, a giddy smile on his face. It's a combination of the bet, the drinks, and
whatever pharmaceuticals he's ingested. Little Dynasty turned 18 last
month, and she's not so little anymore. What happens next will either make
or break her reputation at school. Either way, it's gonna cause some drama
with her sister.
"This is so fucked up." Tabitha Bianchi- yes, those Bianchi’s-laments,
taking the seat beside me.
"You didn't try to talk him out of this?" I ask, my eyes trained on the
door.
"How could I? You know the golden rule."
I do. It's the reason we're so close. Our time, trust, and devotion belong
only to our group. We date and we mingle, content to let people float in and
out, but the minute one of us feels an emotion stronger than lust, we cut it
out like a cancer. Most of the time the knife cut comes in the form of the
shit that's about to happen. The demise of any romantic entanglement is so
permanent and thorough, there's no way to recover from it.
This is one of many reasons I don't do relationships. I keep my emotions
in check and the minute I even think a girl's thoughts are turning toward
forever; I put an end to things. No pair of tits or ass is worth a fake or real
pregnancy, or that brass ring around someone's finger. If marriage is in my
future, it'll accompany what my dad calls the perfect business merger. An
alliance that will take our already ridiculously wealthy bank account to
another level. For now, school, these jokers; and when I find time, my
artwork is what I'm focusing on.
I watch as my friend takes Dynasty's hand and leads her towards the hot
tub.
"Shit, he's really doing it." Tabitha shifts on the couch to get a better
look.
We all know there's only one way this is going to end. Hal sniffs and
rubs a knuckle against his nose. "Frankie let his heart get involved, but
nobody's forcing him to do this."
The murmurs ripple through the party and I see the moment word
reaches Destiny. The screaming starts before she reaches them, pushing
through the throng of people who are standing around, attention fixated on
the hot tub. It's like driving by a traffic accident or a fight on the
playground. Nobody knows how to mind their own fucking business.
My friends and I hold our positions. There's only one way to win a bet.
You need proof that you completed your task. Our phones chime in rapid
succession. I swipe to open the notification when the message comes in.
The tiniest jolt of interest dings through my brain when I look at the picture.
Dynasty just earned an ‘A’ in holding her breath under water. It takes some
skill to do it while sucking someone off. Has the baby sister been practicing
for her moment in the spotlight?
I almost feel sorry for Destiny when she rips through the house,
knocking people and their beverages over in her haste to escape. Almost.
She's been around long enough to know how we operate. She never
should've let herself get too close.
Tabby raises her cup in salute. "To the first day of school."
Hal and I raise are cups too, I whisper the benediction. “Audentis
Fortuna Iuvat.”

My father, Davis McKay, is sitting at the white and grey granite marble
table in our massive kitchen when I come down for breakfast. I stare at him
like he's an apparition because he's rarely here in the morning. Afternoon, or
evenings, for that matter. Running a multimedia empire is time-consuming.
No. That's not true. Running a multi media empire and banging all of your
secretaries and your friend's secretaries. That's time consuming. I'm still not
sure how any of his wives put up with him for all of those years. I'm the
product of his first marriage. The one that lasted three years short of the
term of the prenup and the only one I think mattered to him.
I wonder if having his heart broken is what turned him into the guy who
can't keep it in his pants. It's weird, the relationship my parents have.
Seventeen years after their divorce and they're still friends. It makes for
awkward dinner conversation when he tells the woman he's dating that he's
taking my mother’s advice about their relationship. It makes for even more
awkward vacations when he sends my mother a ticket to join us on the
slopes for the holiday.
My mother, Emilia Wainwright, is currently on vacation on the Amalfi
coast. She's on husband number two and they’ve been married for twelve
years. He's a cool enough guy. Loves the shit out of her and spoils her
rotten, but I've been living with my dad since I was ten.
Dad is horrible at commitment, forgets everything that's not related to
the company's bottom line, and never met a problem he couldn't throw
money at. But compared to what some of my friends have to deal with, he's
a pretty decent father and neither I, nor my little brother or sister, want for
anything.
That includes the newest gadgets, the fastest cars, and the biggest house
in the neighborhood. Seven bedrooms, eight bathrooms, and an indoor gym,
pool, movie theater and bowling alley. There's no reason to ever leave the
house, which is why I leave every chance I get. Sometimes the echoes of
this overly large and indulgent space annoy the hell out of me.
Dad's phone chimes. I recognize the ringtone he's assigned for his
personal assistant. Now, there's a woman whose legs he's never been
between and in the dozen or so years she's been working for him, I don't
think he's ever tried. I can't make the same claim for myself. I was only half
kidding when I asked her what color panties she was wearing on my
eighteenth birthday. She reminded me she used to make my orthodontist
appointments and arrange for dad's driver to pick me up from my playdates
and promptly turned me down.
I cross the room, snagging an orange from the fruit tray. "Is that your
one hour warning or the twenty-minute warning?" The answer will
determine whether I'm sitting down for breakfast or driving back to campus
this morning.
"Twenty minutes." He responds without looking up from the papers in
his hand.
"Right, let's make this quick then."
Every year at the start of the fall semester, dad likes to remind me of the
responsibility I have to the family name and business. He gives me a list of
teachers to get face time with and warns me about any transfers or new
enrollments that may be problematic to my position at school.
And every year, I assure him that my friends and I are still at the top of
the food chain and I'm still in charge of the school's newspaper. It's the one
extra-curricular activity that he approves of, because he uses it to scope out
up-and-coming talent.
I brace myself for the speech, that doesn't come. "Dad. You don't wanna
do the thing this year?"
"Is there any point? You already know what I'd say."
"True. But that's never stopped you before."
He sets the document down, pushing it to the side, and removes his
glasses. I know whatever he has to say will either be poignant and thought
provoking, or utter crap. "You know anything about Atticus's car?"
 "It's a beauty kept in a museum that's supposed to be a garage under
security tighter than nuclear launch codes, and he loses his shit whenever
someone even looks at it."
"Exactly. Which is why I was surprised to hear it was stolen and needs
extensive repairs." He eyes me over his coffee.
"That sounds horrible. I hope the police catch the perpetrators."
He ‘hmpfs’ me because we both know there's only one way that car got
out of the garage, and there's no way Atticus is pressing charges on his own
son.
"One day the stunts you and your friends pull are going to have real
consequences that we won't be able to protect you from."
I give my father a confident smirk. "Relax, dad. You taught me that
there's nothing we don't own, control, or influence; therefore, we're always
protected."
Thanks to my father, and the legacy our family built, we live like
royalty and I’m the heir apparent to the McKay Media throne. Dad owns
stock in all the major trades and entertainment companies, and he's one of
the wealthiest media moguls in North America.
Our paper may not get the distribution of the Times or Post, but we
certainly benefit from their success by working behind the scenes to
influence what goes into the news cycle. Our magazine, however, rivals
anyone else's and our e-content has come a long way in the last few years,
thanks to the interns dad has hired from my school, Van der Borne
University.
I learned at a young age, that with our lifestyle comes the open road to
excess. Drugs, drinks, women. It's why my friends and I find non-
traditional ways to relieve the boredom. When you're on top of it all, your
elevated status leaves you cold and numb. The only way to feel is to take
life to the extreme.
We all have our vices, the things that make us feel alive. Franklin
Thorne chases the thrill of speed, Hal Bishop drinks way too much, Isabelle
Lance is a sadistic bitch who gets off on exploiting and toying with people's
lives, and Tabitha Bianchi. She won't admit it, but she's lonely. Her
emotionally stunted ass seeks a connection by falling onto the dicks of
random guys.
She's got typical rich girl abandonment issues. Mommy and daddy are
too busy being part of the social elite, to recognize that their little princess
lost her virginity at a wrap party, to the son of a famous casting director.
Hell, they'd need to know we hopped a flight to LA that weekend, before
they could even begin to piece together everything that happened.
Me, I'm addicted to secrets. Hearing them and uncovering them. The
darker, the better. It was my idea that all bets needed proof. If rule number
one is, there are no rules. Rule number two is never agree to do something
you wouldn't want everyone else finding out about.
That brings me to the reason I'm heading back to school two days earlier
than planned. The blog sites smell blood in the water, and I have it on good
authority there's about to be a new headline on Matilda Slade's current
dilemma. The bet she made is coming back to haunt her. It seemed innocent
enough when someone pitched the idea to her, but she soon found out her
sandy beach hookup with the tennis pro was caught on camera. Explaining
it to the guy whose ring she's wearing was news at eleven.

I invited Matilda to my dorm room to talk. She's sitting at my desk

watching me unpack. Her eyes are red and blotchy as if she's been crying all
night. I slide my t-shirt drawer closed, and turn to face her. "I'm not sure
what you think I can do about it. A bet is a bet."
"I only made that bet because I really wanted that venue for my birthday
party."
"And Bella rescheduled her event. You got what you wanted, so what
seems to be the problem?"
"There's an article out there and pictures. Now my fiancé knows what I
did. He can't even look at me."
"I'm still waiting for you to tell me what I'm supposed to do about it."
"It's your dad's paper. Print a retraction."
"That wouldn't be responsible journalism, or fair to our anonymous
contributors who would be forced to return their stipend."
The tears start again. "Can't you just say the pictures weren't me?"
"I could, but I'd think dear hubby-to-be knows what your ass looks
like."
She looks away, getting my attention more effectively than the tears
ever would. "We only do it in the dark, so no he doesn't."
 So that's why she was willing to make this bet. She needed some
excitement in her life. Of course it backfired, because it's a bet she made
with Bella, who always has a back angle she's playing. She didn't care about
the venue and only reserved it because she'd heard Matilda wanted it. Bella
knew that would make Matilda desperate, and desperate people make stupid
decisions.
The bet for her to bang the club's tennis pro had to be caught on tape or
witnessed by a bipartisan group of people. Matilda's did her part and won
her prize, but what's happening now is what Bella was really after.
Matilda's infidelity cleared the way for Bella to get to Pete Reynolds,
whose father commissioned a one of a kind custom made reversible
diamond, sapphire and aquamarine pendant from Harry Winston, for his
future daughter-in-law's birthday. Now, with the scandal and impending
breakup, the necklace would be free for purchase.
"Matilda, I can't undo the story." I watch as a fresh wave of tears begins.
She really cares about this guy. That's her first mistake, and if she would
have come to me sooner, I might have counseled her to handle this
differently.
Her fat, splotchy tears keep landing on the arm of my leather chair.
Fucking gonna need to get it cleaned and detailed so the salt and moisture
doesn't crack it. "But maybe I can help you spin it."
She jumps up, flinging her arms around me. "Oh, thank you!"
"Before you get too excited, it comes with a price."
She backs away, gnawing on her lip. "I'm not having sex with anyone
else."
Coming behind Pete Reynolds, yeah. Not interested in that. Fucking
Matilda would create a bigger problem. She strikes me as a girl who has
never had good sex before. Not even with the tennis pro, because if he
clanged her walls correctly, she wouldn't care about ending things with Mr.
Lights Out. "Relax. That's not where I was going with this."
"Then what?"
"Your family knows the Kindells, right?"
"Elliot Kindell is my godfather." She scrunches her nose up. "Even if he
is the chancellor at Worthless U. Why do you ask?"
Worthington University is a rival college about an hour from here. Their
students are still juggling multiple social media platforms, making it harder
to target families that would make good alliances after graduation. The most
popular dynasty's in today's business world are common knowledge, but I'm
looking for hidden gems. The families and their offspring who are hungry
for more. If I'm going to own this country, I have to start acquiring assets
now.
"I'll help you fix this mess you've gotten yourself into, and in return,
you get your godfather to agree to a ninety-day trial of our app."
"That's it?" I can see she doesn't believe me. Fucking Bella's
backhanded bullshit, fucks with my credibility. I'll have to have a talk with
her about that.
I'm a bastard in my personal dealings, but I'm always serious when it
comes to business. "I'll be happy to put it in writing."
I pull up a standard contract on my laptop while she makes a call to her
family attorney. An hour later, we have a signed agreement in place and
with the magic of video editing, and our school social media app, I give
Matilda an alibi to offset the grainy photo of her and the tennis coach.
Initially, I wasn't in on this bet, but I found a way to use it to my advantage.
I made sure the photography department at the paper pixilated the picture
before printing and I have the negatives and SD card so no-one will ever be
able to disprove our new story.
Bella's the queen of manipulation, but I'm the king of this school and the
student body is my responsibility. The Slades and Reynolds are a family of
politicians on opposite sides of the aisle and important members of this
community. Their children's marriage may influence whether or not they
vote along party lines every time. It benefits us all in the long run for their
families to be united.
Bella, chasing a fucking bauble like a cat after a squeaky mouse toy,
nearly ruined it.

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 CHAPTER TWO

"J ordanna, we need to get going!"

My mother's been fluttering around the house since six this
morning. It seems like she's in a bit of a hurry to get rid of me. I ignore her
like I have the last four times she yelled we needed to get going. It's move
in day at the dorms. Mom's excited about dropping me off at school, but I'm
not excited about going. Not to this school.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror and slip the stem of my hoop
earrings through my ears. We've done this dorm drop off once already. It
was two years ago at a school I loved, with the same friends I'd had since
eighth grade. Why she would think I'd be overjoyed to be starting over, here
of all places, is beyond me.
My brown eyes stare back at me. Cat eyes are what my friends call
them. Perfectly almond-shaped, soft brown eyes with golden flecks. I turn
side to side, surveying the rest of my body. Not too lean, not super curvy.
Just. Blah.
My hair has a mind of it’s own. Thick and wavy. It takes hours taming it
straight, so I usually wear it up in a bun, ponytail, or braid. You can tell I'm
a girl, but there's nothing significant to call Playboy about. Objectively
speaking, I think my eyes are my best feature, and maybe the cute little
freckles I have on my nose.
My sister Summer knocks twice, then barges into the bathroom, without
waiting for permission to enter. "Boundaries." I snap, glaring at her through
the mirror.
 "Yeah, well, mom told me to come see what was taking you so long.
She's says we'll run into traffic if we don't leave in the next ten minutes."
We wouldn't have to worry about traffic if she'd let me stay at my old
school. I wish someone would explain to me why my stepfather's poor
decisions meant I had to uproot my life and come here. To Kingsley Bluff,
one of the many towns named after old stuffy white dudes that got rich off
the misfortune of others during the great depression.
Summer continues to stare at me as if that'll make me move any faster.
It's not, but there's not much more stalling I can do. She steps aside so I can
get through the door and follows me to my bedroom. I packed my last
suitcase two nights ago, and the only thing left to do is grab my phone and
charger. I look around, the room as barren as it was when I came back at the
end of last semester.
And summer - the season, not my sister- is over just like that. I barely
had time to get used to this place, because I insisted on spending the first
two months of my summer break in Fairview and NYC with my friends.
We all agree my forced transfer sucks and I've promised them I'll find a
way to get back to school. My real school. Not the golden castle with the
secret handshakes my mother is shipping me off to.

She was right. There's traffic on the road when we pull onto the freeway,
but not enough to delay our trip. Much too soon, I'm staring at the oak leaf
crest and white pillars of the institution where I'm supposed to finish my
degree.
Van der Borne University. The school so selective that they have no
problem turning politician's kids away. Neither of my parents were
politicians and we're not stupid rich, which is why I'm still confused about
why I got accepted here.
Mom forced me to fill out the admission paperwork when the brochure
came in the mail last year, and while my transcripts are amazing, I took one
look at the pamphlet and knew we wouldn't be a good fit. The yearly tuition
alone would have any sane person making a deal with Rumpelstiltskin. Or
at least agreeing to sell a kidney.
Nothing about the school screams charitable, yet somehow I earned a
scholarship that I didn't apply for. When I called to inquire about it, I was
told it's based on some archaic employment history of some distant relative
I've never heard of or met.
It sounded like a bunch of rich people double speak that amounted to
shut up and draw pretty pictures. I don't give two shits about the old fart
whoever he or she was, but we need the scholarship, thanks to dear old
stepdad's affinity for stretching the truth on his financial records.
We got a quick lesson in embezzlement and fraud last year. When Uncle
Sam comes for you, he doesn't care that a portion of the money in the joint
bank account was earmarked for your wife's kids' future, from her dead
husband's life insurance policy. Now Summer and I know the importance of
keeping our accounts separate from the men we marry.
Driving along the road, Mom tells me again how great this school is and
how many opportunities I'll have just by attending here. I don't need the
perks of matriculation. I've got a 3.9 GPA and I'm already being courted by
one of the top publishing houses in the country. They love the hard-hitting
exposés I've written for them over the last two years, I'm a talented artist,
I've got a decent eye for photography, and my double major in finance
doesn't hurt.
I just wish my mother, Ivy Waldorf (she so needs to go back to her
original last name), still valued those gifts. Instead, I think she sort of
blames me for our current lot in life, because it was my story on Penn
Waldorf that led to the SECs investigation into the company. That's the only
reason why I'm prepared to suffer here instead of taking the semester off.
"This place is unreal." My sister can't keep the awe out of her voice. It's
her senior year of high school, but with her basketball trophies, she's had
offers flowing in from Division One schools since tenth grade. She won't be
forced to apply to come here. I doubt the teams here would be conducive to
her hoop dreams, anyway.
I climb out the car, craning my neck back to stare at the lion perched on
the roof of the building. I suddenly feel like I caved too easily. My guilt be
damned, I should have put up more of a fight. I didn't force step-doofus to
be a lying thief, and the people he duped out of their money deserved to
know the truth.
If the brochure, website and drive through the golden gates didn't give it
away, the clothes on the people milling around me, hammers home the fact
that I'm out of place. Even with our previous income level, I would be out
of place. I've never been a label chaser. The artist in me prefers truly
vintage clothes from thrift stores and consignment shops over the over-
inflated frilly "vintage" from the hottest designers. But yeah, it's quite
obvious, I'm not from around here.
Summer grabs my duffel bag while I retrieve my suitcases from the
trunk and mom grabs the box that has all the important stuff. You know, like
my art supplies.
"Okay, ladies." I take a fortifying breath before stepping on the curb.
"Let's get this over with."
"This is your dorm?" Summer asks as we step through the entrance and
into an area that reminds me of a hotel or apartment building lobby,
complete with a front desk. We walk past the inordinate staircase with
balsamic oak handrails, and step inside the gold trimmed elevator, which
takes us to the fifth floor. Roughly the halfway point in this building. I
guess small victories and all that. This means fewer flights I'll have to walk
if the elevator goes out.
I snort to myself, earning a look from one of the other people in the
elevator. As if that would ever happen. Stepping onto the floor we walk the
hall, and I take in the molding on the recessed ceiling and tapestry on the
walls. We stop in front of room number, 521 as listed on the registration
card. The door is ajar.
"You must be the first one here." Mom says as she pushes the door open
wider. When we step inside, the box rattles in her arms.
"Or not." Summer chirps. Stepping further into the room.
"You must be Jordan." The occupant glides smoothly across the floor.
Her auburn hair catches all the best light, shimmering as it swishes
delicately across her back when she moves. "I'm Kassidy Devane."
I step forward, extending my hand. "Jordanna." I correct.
"Right. Jordanna. Well, that's your room." She points to the door on the
right side of the living space. "And that's mine.” She says, waving her hand
to the left.
Mom opens the door to 521B and shakes her head. "Wait. I'm sorry. I
thought this was a double occupancy."
"It is. Meaning two people to the suite."
"And you have your own showers?"
"We share the bathroom by an adjoining door, but we don't have a
community shower, if that's what you're asking."
 Mom pulls up the email about my dorm assignment again, muttering
about the cost of room and board. My tuition and books are covered, but
this first semester, a portion of the meals and lodging have to come out of
pocket. We expected an old dorm, though looking around campus, I'm not
sure we will find the typical college dormitory on any of these acres.
Once inside my room, mom says, “Jordanna, I think they made a
mistake. I gave them our tax statements and there's no way…"
I can see the frown lines on my mother's face. "Relax mom, I have
money in my savings from working the last two semesters, and I'll get a job
here to help cover the costs if you need me to."
Why the hell did I just volunteer to do that? Maybe the financial burden
would be enough to convince her to let me dis-enroll. It's not too late to
head back home, and I still have another week before I'd have to be on
campus at Carryville Institute for the Arts.
"I appreciate that, hun. But this is a new school, and it's an adjustment
from what you're used to. I don't want you working this semester. I'll figure
something out. I’ve got a new job starting, and as long as you pull the
grades you need to, your scholarship will increase and cover everything
next semester."
She smiles at me, now that she's worked through her anxiety. "I think
we can manage just fine. Just, budget your spending money. Because with
Summer's basketball and tournament fees, I won't be able to give you much
towards incidentals."
I ride with my family back down the elevator and walk them to the car.
Despite the strain from the last year, my mom, sister and I are close. We
share a quick hug and kiss and a promise to call all the time, and then
they're making the two-hour drive back home, because Summer has an
early morning practice.
I realize I left my phone on my bed, when I hear it ringing as soon as I
step into the living area. I scurry through my door, scoop it from the bed,
and hit answer before it goes to voicemail.
"Hey you." I smile my first real smile for the day.
"Wow. So busy you're avoiding my calls already?" Robbie teases.
"Sorry, I was walking mom and Summer out and left my phone on my
bed."
"Do you think that's wise? Leaving your stuff out around people you've
just met?"
 "Yes, I do, because I have my own room."
"They gave you a single?"
"Sort of. My dorm room is like a two-bedroom apartment. We share a
living room and bathroom, but my bedroom is huge, and it's amazing."
"Does the door lock?"
"Of course it does. As much as tuition costs and with the clothes and
shoes I've seen while driving onto campus, if they don't have working locks,
then these rich parents are crazier than we think."
"I'm just making sure we'll have complete privacy when I come see
you."
I flop onto my back and listen as he tells me what I missed last
weekend. Hearing his recap hurts, because it means admitting to myself that
my friends have continued on without me. I had no choice about coming
here, and I'm going to work my ass off to pull good grades just like I always
do. What mom doesn't know is there's a full ride scholarship opportunity
opening up at Carryville for next semester and I'm determined to get it.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER THREE

I openly check out the girl sitting next to me. Shauna's had some work
done over the summer. I pull up Prospectus, our rank and social media
app, on my phone and see someone's bumped her up a solid four points.
Very nice work indeed. It sounds misogynistic and it could be, except the
school ranking system does more than validate looks. It includes GPA's,
extra-curricular activity's, activism, and philanthropy. You can be the hottest
girl in school with zero's in all other areas which lands you at the bottom of
the list.
The top ten students at the end of the year get hand selected for
internships at some of the most prestigious company's in the world, without
needing to apply.
The beauty ranks could lead to modeling and acting contracts. Visual
and performing artists can see doors opened for them on broadway or the
hottest galleries and museums.
Prospectus is a database my friend Simon Allen, and I created in
seventh grade to rank sports teams and shows. We started adding people to
it and by our junior year of high school it was a full-fledged app with the
entire student body using it.
Parent's caught on and with a few tweaks, it's morphed into a
recruitment tool used by some of our alumni. I came up with the creative
designs and gave input on what it should contain.
Over the years, we've accepted input from various people. Ultimately,
this is Simon's technological baby and I let him care for and nurture it. But
as a partial owner, I'll get my cut of the profits when we monetize access.
He's working on a way to strengthen the infrastructure and make it available
to a wider audience. Getting Worthless U onboard is our first step towards
that goal.
An alert sounds, letting me know a new student profile has been
created. I stuff my phone back in my pocket. I'll decide which freshman to
follow after the first party, still preferring to to get my first impressions in
person.
Frankie takes the seat behind me and Hal slides into the one across from
him on the right. Bella is in front of me and Tabitha, Dinah, and Bella's
newest minion, Olivia, sit on either side. When we're in the same class, we
always sit clustered together, and I always take over the middle row. The
students usually leave the seat to my left unoccupied, and the one to my
right is reserved for a special friend when I'm in the mood. It became vacant
at the beginning of the spring term, when Robin Spencer flew the coop. No
one dares to sit next to me without an invitation, but Shauna's two seats
away putting in an application to keep it warm. First day of school
initiative. I'm good with that.
"I really like the cut of that shirt Shauna." I don't hide the fact that I'm
staring at her chest. "It's very. Flattering."
She tosses her jet black hair over her shoulder and gives me a shy smile.
"Thank you."
I lean closer and see her eyes widen. "So tell me, sweet Shauna, what
other classes are you taking?"
"Well, let's see. I have-,"
Bella cuts her off with a flick of her wrist. "Some other shit the rest of
us don't want to know about."
The professor comes in to start the class. I lean over to talk to Shauna
while he's going over the syllabus. “She's wrong, you know. I totally wanna
know something about you."
I wink and flash my dimples. Shauna lets out a tinkly giggle, drawing
Bella's attention and displeasure. Bella needn't worry that my vacancy is
being filled so quickly. Shauna's sweet and that new rack will be nice to
take for a spin, but giggly cum dumps aren't really my type. It's the first day
of classes and by the time the back to school blitz party happens next week,
there will be more than enough information for the crew to decide who's
hot, who's not, and who's life we're changing this semester.
 I stretch my legs out in front of me. Early morning classes are the worst,
but I prefer getting the torture out of the way, so my afternoons and
evenings are free. This Poly-Sci class and Econ are the only two classes my
friends and I have together. I settle in to listen to what Professor
Chamberlain has to say. It's not much. Even he seems to need an extra day
to prepare for the bullshit. We dismiss early and I take a quick detour before
heading to the coffee bar where everyone likes to hang out.
Bella pouts when I get closer to the table. "Where'd you disappear to?"
For someone who won't let me spread her ass, she spends a lot of time
trying to keep tabs on my cock.
Hal gyrates his pelvis and feigns his eyes rolling back in his head. "You
know where he went. To get a closer look at what's under Shauna's shirt."
Tabitha crinkles her nose. "Tell me you didn't fuck her already."
"I didn't."
She raises her cup to her lips.
"But I did offer to play with her new tits to test the integrity of her
implants."
She spits into her coffee when a laugh tumbles from her lips. "You're an
ass."
I drop into the seat beside her, place a loud smack against her cheek,
and lean back against the seat cushions. "You love me anyway."
Tabitha rolls her eyes, but settles against me, teasing, "Did you choke on
saying that?"
"You know I did." We're only familiar with one four letter L word. Lust.
Bella flips her hair while clearing her throat to get our attention. "If
you're done, there are a few things we need to discuss."
Our table has an unobstructed view of everything going on in the cafe.
It's the spot where plans are made, and decisions are finalized over a cup of
coffee. The previous regime conducted their meetings in classrooms and
lecture halls after hours with stolen bottles of alcohol. I canceled that shit as
soon as I took over the school. How can you rule a kingdom if you never
interact with your subjects?
The cafe was a place for the socially inept, now it's one of the most
popular places on campus. They've added a game night and movie night to
their list of evening activities, making it a safe place for the freshman to
hang out.
 The other place, the cathedral and bell tower known as The Rift, tucked
away on the closed down portion of campus, is where the masks come off
and the freaks come out. There, you're invited to partake in enjoyments of
the highest order. Whatever you dream or desire, that's where you go to
make your petition. To be free of judgment or restraint. Everyone, except
for Bella, finds a way to participate. Or at least that's what she'd have you
believe.
She's a watcher. I know, because I am too. That's how I caught her in the
corner tower the night Will and Tobias's threesome turned into a twosome,
after the girl passed out from over-stimulation on the couch beside them.
Bella was there. Watching everything. Getting off on the M/M action.
The cathedral and bell tower are always accessible, but I maintain the
keys to the lock on the sub cavernous doors. The most hedonistic acts occur
below ground where no one can hear you scream in pleasure, cry out in
pain, or beg for more of the same.
"The charity case is here, and we need to let her know from the
beginning she's not welcome." I scroll through my phone while Bella
prattles on. "Logan, are you listening to me?"
I admit that I wasn’t. I lock my screen, putting my phone down. "We
knew the scholarship committee chose a new student. Why are we having
an official discussion about this?"
"Because we can't let her get comfortable being here. If she succeeds,
that just gives the finance committee a reason to expand their scholarship
program. Just look at Worthless U. Letting any and everyone in brings
down the value of a school."
That's not why they're worthless, but they have gone through some
adjustments after letting in students who weren't fully vetted. If the
scholarship student who just enrolled doesn't benefit us, then I don't care if
Bella runs her off campus. "Bella, we're in agreement. You have my full
support."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FOUR

I trail behind a group of students looking for a seat that's not too close to
the front or too far in the back, planting myself in the fifth seat of the
eighth row and unpack my bag, setting my recorder and notebook in front
of me. The class fills up quickly and I watch as the other students bypass
my row. I must have that new girl smell on me. The one that wards off
making friends.
I'm sending a text to Robbie when I sense the change in the room. The
hum of noise quiets. I look up and see all eyes facing the group of students
who have just stepped through the doorway. They branch off, climbing the
steps on either aisle of the lecture hall, but they all stop in the same general
location. The row in front of me, the one behind me, and my row. My eyes
stall on the guy in the middle of the group. I clock him at six feet three. His
eyes skim over me.
"You're in my seat."
It takes a moment to understand that the girl on my right is talking to
me. I look around and ask in the nicest way I can. "Are there usually
assigned seats in the classes?"
I'm not used to college being so formal, but then again, I'm not used to a
bellman in the dormitory. I checked my email from the professor this
morning on attendance requirements, and assigned seating wasn't
mentioned.
"They sit there." She points to the girls. "They sit back there." I do a
quick check behind me at the guys. "And I sit here."
 I do a quick review of their entrance. I imagine the way it looks when
their march in works correctly. Probably formidable and chill inducing.
Designed to make the average coed wish they were part of their world. I've
no doubt that it's very coordinated and intricate, but it doesn't answer my
question.
She's waiting for me to move, and for five whole seconds I consider
doing just that. But then the professor comes in and class begins.
"Bella, would you like to take a seat or will you be standing during class
today?"
Another thirty seconds pass before she move on, but I can tell she's not
happy about the swap. Maybe she has a medical issue that requires her to be
in this particular seat? If that's the case, I feel bad that I didn't move. When I
turn around to apologize, she's whispering to some guy, seeming
unbothered about the change. Ok. So maybe it's not such a big deal after all.
At the end of class, the group leaves the way they came in. Descending
the steps and converging as a group at the bottom. It sort of reminds me of
the flight pattern of migrating birds. They're them. The IT crowd. I see it in
the way they move. The way people act deferentially around them, giving
them space.
I don't care about the popularity dynamic. I just want to keep my head
down and make it through this school semester, so I can go back to my old
school in the spring. When I head to the cafeteria on my break, I spot the
girl the teacher called Bella sitting at a table over by the window.
A new day is, well, I guess it's a day too late to make a good impression.
Good thing, there are still like nine hours left in this one to make amends. I
walk over to her to apologize for what happened earlier. She may not own
the seat, but it was never my intention for her to get called out by the
teacher.
"Bella, I just wanted you to know that, I'm sorry for the mix up earlier."
Her nose is buried in her phone as if she can't be bothered to look up and
pay attention. When one of the guys she was with earlier slides up to the
table, she lowers her phone and smiles at him.
He looks at me, frowns and joins in on pretending I'm not here.
Everyone, and I do mean everyone, is doing the same. I'm standing in the
middle of sub-arctic temperatures, having breached some type of code of
conduct I didn't even know existed. It's fascinating witnessing group-think
on an emotionally driven level. I thought we were in college, but this
behavior is so tenth grade. They may think it's funny or cute, or
embarrassing to me, but what I think is that it's rude as hell, and rude people
don't deserve my apology.

I'm an artist. I love sketching and photography, but painting is my passion

and even though I'm only here for this semester, I want to make a good
impression on my professors. I'm angry with myself for being late. I got
turned around on campus after my World Lit class and wound up on the
wrong side of campus.
"I'm Noel Hansen. The TA." The cute guy at the front of the class is
saying when I step through the door. He ignores me, continuing with his
introduction. “Professor Tiering, or Grace as she prefers to be called, will be
out for the next few weeks, finishing up her maternity leave."
I slide into the only available seat at the front of the class, next to a boy
with the blonde spiky tips. He's sporting earrings in his ear, and a rope
necklace with a crystal dangles around his neck. I give a timid smile and
hello and he smiles back.
Noel's explaining our first lesson. "Everything starts with the eyes. Your
line placement, your color palette, none of that matters if you don't truly see
the subject in front of you. So, before you pick up a pencil, chalk, or brush,
I want you to take some time, studying our subject."
The model disrobes, and a disquieting unease settles over me. I feel my
face flush up to the tips of my burning ears. I knew this was a life study
class and that nudity would happen, but I didn't think we'd dive right in to
seeing all the things hanging quite this soon. I take a deep breath and
console myself with the fact that at least it's a woman. I can't be certain I
wouldn't pass out if my first day required me to study the flaccid appendage
hanging between a man's legs.
I glance at what my seat mate is doing. He's not put out by the naked
woman in front of him. His lines are smooth and precise as his hand moves
quickly across the canvas. I can already see the outline of the model's body.
Noel walks over and peers over at my blank canvas, before moving on to
the next row of students. I shake off my nerves and start at the bottom. Her
legs. I focus on getting those perfect, too embarrassed to look any higher.
Before I know it, class is over.

The door to my room is ajar when I get back from the library. I slowly push
it open, reaching into my pocket for the can of mace my mother insists I
carry. The intruder is one of the guys from Bella's swarm of student birds.
Only he didn't exactly stand or sit as if he was deferring to her. No, there's
an air of authority radiating from him even as he trespasses in my room.
If Bella's the pampered entitled princess, the guy in front of me is
definitely the prince. He spins to face me, holding a couple of my DVDs in
hand. Hazel. That's the color most people would use to describe his eyes,
but now I can see that's too basic. They're a shimmering mixture of fern and
amber. It would take a couple of passes with my paint before I got that color
combination correct, but mother nature did it in one try.
"What are you doing?" I step into the room, closing the door behind me,
but keep my mace at the ready.
"Looking for something to put on. When did Kassidy start watching this
bullshit?"
My ears burn and I stammer. "Th-those are mine." Why the hell am I so
nervous? It's my room, and he's the one rummaging through my shit. I have
every right to question him being here.
His eyes skim my clothes and hair. "Makes more sense now."
I ignore the veiled insult. He returns the movies to their spot on the
entertainment rack and chooses another selection.
"I'm Jordanna, by the way."
He keeps his back to me. Ignoring people must be engrained into these
rich kids, like table manners. You'd think simple decency costs too much.
It's free, so I know their entitled asses can afford it. He shelves the next set
of movies he was holding, before shouldering past me, without so much as
an introduction or an excuse me.
"Tell Kassidy I'll be back with my own movie." His voice holds a note
of disgust, as if I've inconvenienced him with my tastes. When the door
clicks shut, I remove my finger from the trigger on the can I'm still holding.
I walk into my room tossing my bag on the floor next to the bed and kick
my shoes off, falling back, finally taking a breath. Day one of classes and I
feel like I've been here six weeks already.
I open my eyes after what felt like a blink to a darkened room. I strain
my ears, listening. There it is again. The sound that woke me is a thump and
a giggle. I slip off my bed, crossing the floor to crack my bedroom door
open. I lean my head out, peaking into the common area. A man's throaty
chuckle and a breathy sigh bombard my ears. I can make out four or five
heads over the back of the couch.
"Do it like she's doing it." The voice instructs. I open my door a little
wider, getting a glimpse of the television screen. With the tangle of arms
and legs and music, there's no mistaking they're watching porn like it's a
blockbuster hit. I lean a little further, trying to see who's doing a real life
reenactment. The floor creaks, and one of the heads whip around in my
direction. I jump back, pushing my door closed as softly as possible.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FIVE

I skipped the first day of my life study class, because I knew Noel would
be teaching. I'm here today, because I need to paint. The new girl who
was sitting in Bella's seat is Kassidy's roommate. She's also the scholarship
student no one is supposed to know about. I saw her the other night, trying
to creep across the floor unnoticed, to see what we were doing.
We don't usually show out like that in the dorm rooms with newbies, but
Kassidy invited me over to hang, and the way these things often go; Hal and
Frankie showed up with a few other people. The hookups happened, things
got a little crazy. I wasn't a participant in the bring art to life attempt, but I
was there, watching. Bored out of my fucking mind.
I don't mind porn, but I have to be in the right headspace to watch it,
otherwise I find myself deadened to its effects. As an artist, I prefer the feel
of an object in my hand or visually in front of me. The intangibles rarely
translate from television. I'm talking about the long sinewy muscles of the
body, the way shadows cast across the skin as lights flicker in the
background. The curves and bends and angles and textures. Those things
are what I'm drawn to and excited about. I'm inheriting a media empire, but
I love getting my hands dirty when I'm creating.
I motion for Andrew, Ansel, Steve? Whoever the skater punk is, to get
the hell out of my seat. I sit in the front row in any art class so that I'll have
the best view of the subject.
Well, well, well. New girl's in this class, too. She averts her gaze when I
take the seat beside her, shifting a little to her right, as if the other night's
events might jump off of me onto her. She'd be so lucky.
 Class starts, the model disrobes, and the newb puts her face so close to
the canvas, I wonder how she can see what's happening in the front of the
room. Noel comes by and walks away, without commenting on my absence.
Pussy.
He makes a second pass and offers direction to the vanilla wafer beside
me. "Intentional strokes Jordanna. Think of perspective and proportion as it
relates to the human body. Treat the canvas as more than stretched cloth. It's
the backdrop from which your creation will come forth."
Jordanna. So that’s her name. I think she told me the other day when I
was in her room, but I was too busy thinking of other shit to pay attention.
Noel hovers over her shoulder. "What do you see?"
"I see the model." She says the words softly as if she's afraid incanting
them will bring a fire-breathing dragon to life.
"What specifically do you see?"
"I see her arms. Her legs. Her hair."
"Anything else?"
She cranes her head around the easel and can barely get out. "I see her
breasts. The rise and fall of her chest."
Noel presses for another answer, even though we can all see her turning
as crimson as the paint on her palette. "What else?"
"I see a naked woman."
"Exactly, Jordanna. See the whole picture. Every curve. Every line.
Every shadow and valley. Then draw them. Over and over again until it
becomes a routine. Eventually, the routine will become technique. The
technique-"
"Becomes habit. The habit, muscle memory. The memory gives way to
form, which leads to expression and expression leads to passion." I finish
for him. It's the same speech he gives all the time. He stole it from Mr.
Marseille in high school.
He glances at my canvas. "Well Logan, it seems this masterpiece you've
created ditched routine and form and expression altogether."
"You're wrong. I feel I've fully expressed myself."
"And what is it that your picture is saying?"
"Can't you tell? It's born of the routine expression of boredom." The
class giggles. I stand admiring Jordanna's work from a different angle.
"This, however, is an A-plus. So lifelike and realistic I can feel the sex
jumping off the canvas."
 I pick it up, holding it lower. "Her legs are begging to be touched, her
skin to be licked. " I smirk at him. "It's so lifelike and realistic I wanna jack
off to it."
That earns me a few more laughs. I put the picture back on the easel.
Dropping my paintbrush in my cup. Jordanna grabs her bag, scurrying out
the door like a frightened rabbit.
"Way to go, asshole." Noel mumbles as he moves back to the front of
the class.
She can't handle tits in class or a little teasing. I can mark off one person
who I know won't be showing up at The Rift.

When we step through the door of our Econ class, Bella's face pinches so
tight I worry she'll get her first wrinkle before she makes it to her seat. We
all watch as she climbs the stairs of the lecture hall to confront Jordanna,
intentionally raising her voice, so everyone can hear. Bella doesn't like to do
anything without an audience.
"You're in my seat."
The new girl ignores her, and Bella repeats her statement. "I said you're
in my seat."
"Well, I checked twice, and I didn't see your name on it. Unless, it's
written in ass print. Which I doubt, because the indentation in this one is a
little big for yours. Besides, the other day you said your seat was in the
middle. This is the back."
"Anywhere I decide to sit is my seat. So move."
Jordanna shifts from side to side. "Happy now? I moved." Someone
snickers behind me. So the charity case has some bite. I'd be impressed if it
wasn't a foolish move. Nobody challenges Bella. Not in private, and damn
sure not in public.
"You think you're funny?"
"I think, you're in my personal space, and I intentionally sat at the
farthest end of the classroom, so you can have your seat. Now you want this
one. Tell me something, do you break out the single white female thing with
everyone?"
"You don't wanna make an enemy out of me, new girl."
 "Well, you didn't want to make a friend out of me when I tried to
apologize, so I guess we're at a stalemate."
Bella leans forward, getting in her face. "Last chance, go somewhere
else and be insignificant."
"Sure, princess, just as soon as you go somewhere else and be a bitch."
That seals Jordanna's fate. A part of me admires her grit and spunk. It's
in short supply with the women on campus. I just hope she has enough of it
to carry her through whatever hell Bella's about to put her through.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER SIX

I was upset about the critique of my work. That's the only explanation I
have for mouthing off to Bella the way I did. I was supposed to come
here, keep my head down, and be invisible. Not piss off the entitled brats
whose parents own this school. What the hell is it with her and seats,
anyway? I'll have to do a better job at staying out of her way. My education
and my artwork are my focus. Both of those things are what's going to get
me out of here next semester.
Kassidy raps on the open door before coming into my room. "Oh, no,
you don't." She warns, pulling my textbook from my hand.
"Hey, I need that to study."
"You can study tomorrow. Tonight, we're going out."
Kassidy's been great so far, and it's not my thing to judge, but based on
what was happening with her movie night; I doubt we run in the same
circles. "Kassidy, I'm really not in the mood to go anywhere."
"Come on, Jordanna. School started last week and you've been cooped
up in your room every night. We're young and away from home we need to
be careless and reckless now, because in two years’ time, they'll expect us to
be responsible adults, living lives devoid of fun. Do you wanna be one of
those women lamenting about all the times you should have been getting
twisted but didn't?"
"I've already had two years of fun. Now I think I should focus on being
serious for the next two."
"Nice try, roomie, but that shit doesn't count if it happened in another
school. We're going out and that's final."
 My excuse that I have nothing to wear also falls on deaf ears. I pull
open my closet door and throw an outfit together. My favorite pair of ripped
jeans and a cream off the shoulder v-neck sweater, paired with heels. I
choose a brown and gold makeup palette for my shadow and lips, throw my
hair in a loose fishtail braid, letting it fall over my shoulder and spritz my
pulse points with my favorite perfume.
Kassidy's waiting for me in the living room with a shot in her hand.
"Don't tell me I got dressed to drink shots in our living room. I could've
worn sweats for this."
"This is the appetizer. We have a drink here so we're not nervous when
we get to the party."
"Why would you be nervous? These are your friends, right?"
"You're right, these are actually for you, so you won't be nervous. This is
your first VDU party and they can be a bit… daunting for newcomers."
"Come on Kassidy. It's a college party. How bad can it be?"
"This place is home of the rich and spoiled. They were raised like the
world is their dumpster and they party hard enough to set it on fire."
"I like how you pretend you're not one of them."
"I married in. Or my mom did, when I was twelve, so I've had some
time to acclimate. But I still remember how much of a culture shock it was
when we first moved to Kingsley Hollow. I don't spend too much time with
my nose in the air, that I can't remember how the rest of the world lives."
Kingsley Hollow is the town proper. It’s the richer part of town, and less
than an hours drive from here. The Bluffs where we moved is almost two
hours away and has a median income of 70K a year. Not poverty level by
some standards, but still blue collar to the folks that live in The Hollows.
Kassidy passes me the shot glass, instructing me to, "Drink up."
I tilt the plastic cup of apple vodka to my lips, enjoying slide over my
tongue and down my throat. This is my first party of the school year and I'm
going without the most important people in my life. My best friends Tiffany
and Marina, or my boyfriend, Robbie.
I snap a selfie, sending it to our group chat, then send a private text to
Robbie. I miss him most of all. This was supposed to be our year. The year
we started planning for what our lives would be like after graduation. Grad
School is definitely in our future, but we're also supposed to be talking
about the trip we're taking after graduation, and moving in together. It's hard
to coordinate through phone calls and video chats.
 After three minutes there are still no dots on my phone, so I slip it into
my pocket, telling Kassidy I'm finally ready to go, with the warning that I'll
bail without her, the minute the stupidity gets to be too much for me.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER SEVEN

F oolish. That's the second word that comes to mind when Jordanna
shows up with Kassidy. The first word is hot as fuck in that sweater
and those form fitting jeans. Her roommate should've warned her about the
consequences of showing up here after what happened in class the other
day. Standing up against Bella guarantees retaliation, and whatever form it
takes will be loud, public and messy.
It's why the seat on my right is empty. The last girl who occupied it was
a fun distraction, but she thought our hook ups meant more than they did.
That they gave her a firmer standing in our crew. So, she made a power play
behind Bella's back; and by the time Bella and her friends were done with
her, she had no other recourse, but to transfer schools.
I warned her it was a stupid move when she started hinting about us
ruling the school together, but she thought her head game was enough to get
me to back her play. Don't get me wrong. She sucked me off like a pro, and
I miss her mouth on nights like tonight, but it wasn't enough for me to
disrupt our current power dynamic.
We all come from money. The wealthiest of us are groomed to lead in
all facets of life, and Bella's leadership style has a take no prisoner's
component that rivals the staunchest dictator. She solidified her power base
years ago. Many have tried, none have ever succeeded in taking her down.
My eyes flip over the women surrounding her like ladies-in-waiting. As far
as the school is concerned, Bella is its queen.
I see the exact moment when she finally spots Jordanna. Bella's good at
masking her emotions, but I can tell by the way she keeps looking at the
door that she's pissed. It's easy for a student to feel self-righteous and bold
when there are teachers or faculty members around. Not that they always
intervene. Even the staff knows to pick their battles. But here, tonight, the
only people making the rules are us.
I settle in to watch the show. I usually ignore these kind of catfights, but
Bella has a new mouse to swat around and I was getting bored looking at
the same old drinking games.
Tabitha takes her usual place beside me on the couch. She tries her best
to stay away from the female drama. Out of all the girls in our circle, I
prefer Tabby's company the most. Over the years, she's become like a sister
to me. Maybe because at one point she could've been my sister. Her mother
and my father used to hook up back in the day whenever they were between
marriages. "How long do you think it's gonna take before the charity case is
running for the front door?,” she asks.
Hal squeezes into the space beside her. "Nine minutes tops."
Jordanna scans the crowd and gives a small wave to someone on the
other side of the room, drawing our attention away from the circling shit
storm.
Hal grimaces. "Is that Noel? What the fuck is he doing here?"
There was a time when Noel was the king of Van der Borne University.
Back before he lost a bet and was overthrown by yours truly. He and his frat
buddies are grad students now. They still hold a lot of weight on this side of
campus, but they don't belong here. Not tonight at an undergrad party.
I watch as a beer changes hands and Jordanna leans closer as he
whispers something in her ear. Noel still garners respect as the former king
of VDU. If she’s on his arm, she's protected from Bella's wrath, at least for
tonight.
"I hate that bitch." Says the bitch queen, herself. "I mean, who does she
think she is, anyway? Coming up in here, then latching herself onto Noel's
arm like a leech? How does she know him, anyway?"
Bella only cares about what she cares about. "He's teaching Grace's life
study class."
"Well, he won't be able to protect her for long."
The scholarship kids usually get a bit of a lead in before we decide to
make their lives hell, and I don't think I can remember the last time
someone got under Bella's skin this badly for something as simple as
talking back. Her reaction is almost enough to make me curious about the
girl standing next to Noel.
Bella flounces off with her friends in tow. She turns, crooking her finger
at Tabitha when she notices one of her squad is missing. Tabby stands to her
feet with an exaggerated groan. "I guess it's time to plot the new girl's
destruction."
I swat her playfully on the ass. "Good luck."
Hal scoots closer, and I can see out of the corner of my eye that he's
watching me. "Spit it out or swallow my man. Nobody likes it when you're
indecisive."
"You okay with that?"
"Bella doing Bella? Why the fuck should I care?"
He shakes his head and extends his beer hand towards the kitchen. "I
mean Noel being here."
"I don't care about that shit either. If he wants to hang out with us and
relive his hey-day, who am I to get in the way of that?"
The crowd floats towards the center of the room. It's almost time for the
inaugural first dare of the school year. It's like an icebreaker for the
freshman class. A carry over tradition from the previous ruling classes and a
tamer way to test student's limits while working up to full-fledged bets. Of
course, the newbs don't get as creative as we do. But those with potential
just might earn an invitation to hang with us in a more intimate setting.
Shauna's standing by the door leading to the east wing of the frat house
wearing a shirt so thin and tight I can see the outline of her nipples from
here. Going shirtless would've been more subtle. I watch two guys from the
football team angle up to her, leering at those tits. They're salivating like
wolves around fresh meat and her tits are nice and begging to be touched. I
had a quick intro to them, they're in for a treat.
Prospectus shows Shauna's quickly moving up the ranks, but is she
ready for the big leagues yet? Our next party will be the night we find out.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER EIGHT

F rat houses. They're the epicenter of the male college experience, no

matter where you go. Though, I suppose you would call this place a
frat mansion. I lost sight of Kassidy about an hour ago, and if it weren't for
Noel, I would've gone back to the dorms. He convinced me to stay and I'm
actually having a pretty good time with his friends. They're still drunk and
rowdy, but they're older and nobody's acting an overt ass towards me.
"So how is Noel doing as a teacher?" Grad student number two asks.
"He's a harsh critic, but I deserve it."
Noel squeezes my arm. "Come on, Jordanna. Your work isn't that bad."
"That bad, is what people say when they're trying to pretend
something's not as horrible as we believe it is."
"It's not. You have a lot of potential. I can tell you've never taken a life
study class before. The first time is a little daunting for everyone. You'll get
there."
He reaches behind him, plucking another beer out of the cooler. I
decline when he shifts it my way. "I shouldn't."
"Come on. You don't have classes tomorrow."
"I know. I just haven't finished the one I'm holding and I really need to
use the bathroom. Would you mind pointing me in the right direction?"
"The safest one to use, is probably upstairs. Third door on the right."
"Thanks. I'll be right back."
With a relieved sigh I enter the bathroom, grateful there's no line. I'm at
the top of the stairs heading back to the party when a sound on the opposite
side of the hallway catches my attention. I walk the length of the plush blue
carpet, with the VDU emblem on it, towards the source of the noise. The
door in the middle of the hall is wide open. The vodka and beer have
slowed my brain and it takes longer than it should to process what I'm
seeing. The printer in the corner whirls and whirs, while the guy in front of
the computer collects payments from the line of students in the room.
The guy with the moussed out hair, in the front of the line, steps forward
and says, "Algebra. Mr. Conyx's class."
"Algebra test on Thursday. Answer key. Fifty questions. That's a C-
Note."
Money changes hands and paper spits out of the printer again. This
dude's accessed the teachers’ accounts and is selling answers to their tests.
Their heads whip around to face me, when my beer bottle clanks against the
door. Shit. I back away, scampering down the steps to the safety of the
party. Noel's relocated from the kitchen to the other side of the room closest
to the library. I catch up with him right before he steps onto the makeshift
dance floor. "Jordanna. You're back."
"Mm. I think I'll take that second beer now."
He cracks the top of the one he's holding and passes it to me. Fucking
entitled ass kids. I had to meet a certain grade point average to get admitted
here, and I have to work my ass off to keep my scholarship. But these
pricks that can pay for their education are cheating? Just one more reason
why I need to get back to my real life where there's a level playing field.

The glass doors swing shut behind me when I exit the library. I heft my
book bag higher on my shoulder, when I reach the back trail behind the
science building. I was too tired to study yesterday when I woke up and had
to work on my sketch for the art symposium last night. Then, Kassidy had
friends over this morning. They get loud, so I burrowed down at the library
to get some studying in.
Three steps onto the paths and I see taking the shortcut was a bad idea.
They're here. All of them. Bella and her merry band of friends, - who I've
dubbed ‘the Beautiful People'- are standing by the back door of the
humanities building. Their conversation halts when they spot me, and I
sense rather than see Bella scowling at me.
 "New girl, let me talk to you for a second."
I continue walking, ignoring the entrepreneur who was printing test
answers.
"I said come here so I can talk to you."
I hear the order in his voice. They all talk that way. Ordering people to
do their bidding, as if free will doesn't matter around here. Fuck that. He
can talk to his goddamn self. I keep my eyes facing forward. Just a few
more feet to my destination.
I'm so focused on the path ahead of me, that I never saw his friends
flank off. They step in my path as he grabs me from behind.
"Did you fucking hear me?"
"Get your hands off me." I shriek, twisting out of his grasp.
"I saw you spying on me at the party."
"I wasn't spying and if you don't want people to see you, try closing the
door, idiot."
Strong hands grip my arm when I try to dart around him. I'm being
dragged and pushed like a tackle dummy. "Let go of me or I'll scream."
His buddies push me against the cool stone of the building. He’s
standing in front of me, chuckling at my threat. I can see he's not used to
people keeping their word. Well, fuck that. I open my mouth and let out a
scream to bring the dogs and campus police out. His large hand comes up to
my neck, silencing me mid yell. I struggle to get away, but there's nowhere
to go with his body pressing me against the wall. The hand on my throat
tightens, cutting off my air.
"Let's get one thing straight. I don't need to close the door, because
people know how things work around here. I can see you need a lesson.
Here it goes. You didn't see anything. You didn't hear anything. Say it!"
The hold tightens, and I claw at his hand. Doesn't he realize I need to be
conscious to agree? I raise my knee and aim for his balls, but he swats it
away like it's an annoying fly. I'm losing oxygen fast, but I continue to fight
with every bit of air in my chest. What the hell is wrong with these people?
We're not out here alone. I know others can see what's happening. I take one
more shallow breath. Any moment now, I'll be seeing spots.
"You didn't see anything. You didn't hear anything."
I see Bella smirking over his shoulder. This bitch is enjoying my
torment. I nod, agreeing to keep quiet, if for no other reason than to get him
off of me.
 "Patrick, dude." Bella's friend, I think Kassidy said her name was
Tabitha calls, from over Patrick's shoulder. He flexes his fingers, releasing
his grip. I massage my throat, gasping for air. There's no way he didn't leave
a handprint.
They're crazy. Each and every one of them. They just stood there and
watched. I swing my gaze over the crowd and meet Logan's dead eyes,
carved in a face of ice. He's sneering at me with hatred and disgust. The
intensity of his hostility takes my breath away. I've heard what they say
about him. He's the king of this school and nothing happens without his say
so. That means this was his call. What the hell did I ever do to him?
"Awe, charity. Are you about to cry?" Bella teases, slipping her arm
around his waist.
So that's what I did. I pissed off his bitch of a girlfriend.
I grab my book bag from the ground and hurry to my room. I see the
way they act in class. The teachers think they walk on water. If I file a
complaint, would anyone believe me and if so, would the investigation drag
out? I can't risk it. The questions, the interviews. It'll likely be their word
against mine. I had enough of being a key witness when step doofus was
arrested. Thirteen weeks and I'm out of here. I can steer clear of Logan and
his friends until then.

I try to hide the disappointment in my voice, after Robbie delivers his bad
news. This was supposed to be our first weekend visit and he can't make it.
"You know how important this semester is for me. I can't just stop what
I'm doing to come and tour some other campus."
"I didn't realize wanting to show you around was the same as a tour. I
mean, we're supposed to be spending time together. I haven't seen you since
July."
"I know. I didn't mean it that way. I miss you too, Jordanna. But this
exhibit is only going to be on display this weekend. If I play this right, I'll
get to meet Pierre Suarez and who knows what that can lead to. This could
be huge. For the both of us."
He idolizes Suarez and I feel like an ass for not being more supportive
of this. "No. You're right. You have to do this. There will be plenty of other
weekends for a visit."
"And next semester you'll be back here, so this won't even be an issue."
"I'm looking forward to that."
"How's the artwork for your submission coming along?" He asks,
switching the topic to the project I'm working on. There's a contest at the
end of the semester attended by some of the most influential people in the
art industry. This is my chance to get my work seen on a wider scale and
win a prestigious internship with a successful gallery. It's also my get out of
jail free card, so to speak.
"Good. I've finally nailed down the concept and I'm doing the
preliminary sketches now."
"And what about your classes? Keeping up with prep school statistics?"
"Very funny. It's advance asshole and bitchiness, and I failed the first
pop quiz."
"You've got this Jordanna. Listen, I need to go, I'll call you."
"I love you." I say as the dial tone ending the call cuts in.
I check the time and realize I'm about to be late for Noel's class. I jog
across campus to get there on time, hoping someone will skip and I can get
a new seat. I'm not in the mood for Logan's antics today.
I scan the class. No such luck, it's a full house. Geez, am I the only one
who doesn't relish the idea of looking at tits all day? The clean canvas on
my easel should bring me joy. Instead, it stokes an unease and fear I've
never felt before.
The knot in my shoulder eases when I see the seat Logan's claimed as
his own is empty. Here's hoping it stays that way through the duration of
class. I give my total focus to the subject in front of me and do my best to
follow the instructions Noel's given over the last few weeks. I can't let this
be the class that derails my plans.
"Jordanna." I glance up from my canvas when Noel calls my name. I
was so focused on what I was doing, that I didn't notice the rest of the class
leaving.
"Class is over?"
"I have an appointment so I dismissed early."
"Oh."
"Listen, I know you're struggling, but if you need extra help, you can
always come by for pointers during office hours."
 I feel like an idiot, but I'm grateful for the offer. "Really? You wouldn't
mind"
"Not at all."
A tingle of awareness runs down my spine as we part ways. I look
around and don't see anyone that's paying me any attention, but I can't shake
the feeling that I was being watched.

Logan's missing from our next class and so are his friends. I'm buoyed by
their absence. Truth is I've been on edge since the run-in with Patrick. I'm in
line, at the coffee lounge waiting for a double shot of espresso to help get
me through the rest of my study session, when the person beside me drops
their bag on the floor and in my attempt to sidestep it, I’m pushed by
someone else.
Hot coffee soaks through the top of my shirt. A shriek of pain and
surprise tumbles from my lips as I stagger backwards. Strong hands grip my
hips, steadying me.
"Thanks." I half turn, the smile of gratitude dies on my lips when I see
Bella is the person who pushed me and it's Logan's hands that caught me.
His lips tick up slightly and I catch the fleeting appearance of a dimple.
Bella snaps a photo and talks into her phone. "You see this shit? She
can't even walk and hold coffee at the same time."
"Maybe if your bag wasn't a safety hazard." I thought getting doused in
coffee was an accident, but now I see minion number three is holding an
empty cup in her hand. It's more likely she poured it on me.
Bella's phone is still recording. "Doesn't she look like she's auditioning
for the trailer trash t-shirt contest? Only instead of using water, they use
mud. It's fitting since you're the equivalent of something I'd scrape off the
bottom of my shoe."
Logan's hands are still on me, his hold tightens, his hard gaze fixated on
my chest. I swat his hands away. "You certainly don't act like I'm trash. Tell
me, Bella, do you have a girl crush on me?"
"What?"
"The way you just have to tease me and pull my ponytail. Do you have
a lady boner for me?"
 "I'm not gay, bitch."
"I hear it's called experimentation and all the sexually frustrated
socialites are doing it."
I shoulder pass them, grab my things from my table, and head back to
the dorms. Let's see her upload that.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER NINE

W hile Bella was recording Jordanna, someone was recording Bella.

Thus goes the social media circle of life. The clip of her accusing
the Queen B of eating pussy has four thousand hits on Prospectus, and
Bella's furious because I won't take it down.
I pay for my coffee and grab a paper koozie off the counter.
"Logan, we can't let this shit stand."
"You know the rules. Once content is uploaded to Prospectus, it's up to
the original poster to remove it. There's plenty of shit we post that's
humiliating to other people. You want me to take those down too?"
"This is different. She's a nobody."
"Well, everyone is someone to somebody else. And the answer is still
no. There's no benefit to me taking the video down. You're gonna have to
deal with it."
I know why Bella's upset. One, she's the victim of an unflattering post.
Two, it raises questions people secretly have about her sexuality. There's not
one guy who's ever bragged about fucking Bella. Not that they haven't
they're just too afraid to talk about it. But, I'm fairly certain she's no stranger
to a little girl on girl action.
"If the charity case is allowed to run around here unchecked, that sets a
dangerous precedent for the rest of the student body. Pretty soon, everyone
will think it's okay to talk back and disrespect us and our rule will be in
jeopardy. The greatest fete in the history of the school, you overthrowing
Noel as a freshman, will go crashing down into ruin when somebody with
half a brain and a chip on their shoulder gets enough people behind them to
think a kinder, gentler rule is in order. All it would take is for one person to
put a bug in their ear."
By bug she means a hornet, and she's the queen of the shit stirring nest.
She struts back to our booth while scrolling through her phone, muttering
about the status quo.
"Bella, it's one post. Your reaction to it is what people are most
interested in."
"It never should have gotten the attention it did."
She's reacting emotionally, and that's counterproductive. "The problem
is, people are seeing it. What's your solution?"
She lowers her phone, giving me a self-satisfied smirk. Whatever she
was looking at has brightened her mood. A maniacal look darkens her
violet-colored eyes. "I'm gonna find a way to destroy that bitch."
That's Bella's motto. If she can't control you, she'll ruin your life. "Of
course you are."

Three weeks into the semester and even after they had their sick fun in the
courtyard, Bella's still not over that stupid incident the first day of class. I'm
giving them a wide berth by sitting in one of the back rows, but she makes
it a point to single me out. I've been ignoring her snide comments and dirty
looks.
Today she changes up tactics and addresses me straight out. "What are
you looking at, narc?"
 Huh? They told me not to say anything, and I haven't. Not because I'm
afraid of them, but because I don't want to get involved. A few people
snicker, and someone else walking by, trips on a perfectly flat surface. They
bump up against me, muttering "snitch", under their breath.
The girl at my right moves closer, digging her heel in my toe. I yank my
foot out, controlling the urge to kick her ankle with my boot. "What the hell
is your problem?"
Bella, who's not even in this class, comes to stand next to me. "We
know who you are, and we know what you did. A lot of families lost money
when you ratted out dear old dad. Some of those families have kids that go
to this school, and would like nothing more than a chance to pay you back
for that. Cause you see, we love our endless credit limits, the vacations, and
trust funds. What you did, is a threat to that."
My blood freezes in my veins. I know the embezzlement was bad, but I
never considered that some of these people here may have invested with
Penn's firm. Lovely, the step-prick keeps fucking with my life.
"What do you want, Bella?"
"I want you to recognize your place around here. This school is mine,
and you're just an annoying bug I can choose to squash any time I want.
One word and it's done. So fucking say it, narc."
"Say what?"
"That you know your place."
The first few days of school, I struggled to understand the vitriol with
which everyone greeted me. I'm used to being the weird woman out because
of my art but it's as if everyone here decided on day one that they hated me
and I didn't know why. Now I do. News of my family drama has reached
their ears, and if Bella is to be believed, their bank accounts.
I keep my eyes on the front of the class, ignoring the rest of Bella's rant.
I get it. They don't want the charity case here and they're worried I'm gonna
rat Patrick out for selling test answers. Shit, I don't want to be here, but until
I win that scholarship back to the art institute, this is the shitty situation we
find ourselves in.
"You'd be wise to remember the dean and the admissions office aren't
the ones who decide who stays or goes. We do, and I wouldn't get too
comfortable if I were you, because your days here are numbered."
Her friends giggle and cackle like a pack of rabid hyenas. Mercifully,
the professor comes in, interrupting our heart to heart. Bella takes my
silence for agreement, flouncing out before the lecture starts. They're
beautiful. The whole damn gaggle of them are like breathtaking works of
art. It's a perfect disguise. Perfectly coifed. Stylishly made. A beautiful
overlay to hide their rotten cores.

I never thought I'd say it, but I regret signing up for an art class. Life Study
is my torture hour on two fronts. I'm failing miserably at bringing the
subject to life, and I'm forced to sit next to Logan McKay. I tried to change
seats, but no one would switch with me. They're just as afraid to cross him
as they are Bella. How the hell do twenty-something's get that much power
and instill that much fear in a group of students?
Logan spends a lot of time looking at my canvas instead of painting on
his, and I spend the class hour on edge, wondering when he's going to
openly criticize my work again. I know I suck. I feel my failure down deep,
and nothing Noel says can convince me that my work will get better.
Noel's behind me offering more encouragement. His hand on top of
mine again, moving it along the lines I've created. He rolls my hand in a
circle to fill out the model's nipples. I comply, making that dot my focal
point, blocking out everything else. Today's attempt looks like the drawings
Summer used to do when she would draw pictures of our family.
"Good. Keep going." Noel cheers, rubbing my back.
Logan changes out the charcoal in his hand and grimaces at my
progress. "Alumni are gonna be pissed at winter showcase."
"Something you wanna share with the class, Logan?" Noel asks, with an
edge to his voice.
"Share? No. I couldn't possibly. But I do have a question. When did we
start paying faculty to lie to students? Just because charity here is a guest of
our esteemed institution, doesn't mean we should promote garbage. Vandi U
is here to turn out leaders. Now if her future in art is to teach kindergarten,
well, we have a winner."
The bell rings, and I scramble to pack up my things. I keep my voice
low when I counter with, "I realize I haven't gotten you that porn quality
you're looking for just yet. But I assumed the autonomous blow up dolls
you hang around with are enough to keep you satisfied."
 Logan grabs my arm, slamming me back down in my seat. "Careful,
charity. Don't take my silence every other time you've tangled with one of
my friends as a sign that I'm safe. You wanna show some teeth with me,
you'd better be prepared, because I bite back."
I snatch my arm away, standing to my feet. "What can you do or say to
me that your friends haven't already?"
He stands, looming over me. His freakishly tall ass makes me feel
infinitely smaller. I have to tilt my head way back to hold his gaze. The
strain on my neck is intensified, when he grabs my hair in his hand, pulling
backward. My stomach flips, my breath ticks up. "Trust me, Jordy, you
don't wanna find out.”

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER TEN

J ust when I think the charity case is ready to blend into the background,
she turns around and says something else to make her a target. The
way those honey-brown eyes flashed like she wished I'd drop dead for
daring to tell the truth. Who the hell does she think she's fooling?
We all know her painting is shit, and Noel's not doing her any favors by
pretending otherwise, just because his dick is hard for the scholarship
student. When Grace comes back from maternity leave, Jordanna will be
behind everyone else. Her rivalry with Bella aside, art needs to be
respected, and the artist needs to be pushed to create their masterpiece.
Noel's soft handed approach isn't doing that.
I pull my car into the driveway at the country club. Sunday brunch with
my dad and his country club buddies is an annoying obligation I have to
meet. I've dropped my attendance down to once a month, using school as an
excuse to stay away. A bunch of old guys talking about outdated business
methods for taking over a world that no longer belongs to them, is like
watching golf instead of playing it. A waste of fucking time.
I settle into my chair, listening as the old farts tell me it's good to see me
and endure their questions about school. Nobody cares about my sculpting,
so I break out my usual answers about the communications and
photography courses I'm taking. It's a given I'm going into publishing with
my dad, and we've come to a compromise. My focus within the company
will be on print and digital media.
I suffer through the first course, listening to them talk about stocks and
who's portfolio took a hit that they can exploit. Sheridan Lang is four tables
away with her grandmother, mother and sister. Her father Sterling Lang
owns a formula one racing team that came in twenty-fifth and twenty-
seventh the last two seasons because they've got a cautious driver behind
the wheel.
It's a losing team, and rumor has it Sterling turned down an offer from
an anonymous buyer. He says it's because he loves the team and has faith
they'll rally. I think it's because his wife, who holds the purse strings, is
secretly fucking the driver who may or may not be Sheridan's father. Just
another in a long list of torrid affairs before a socialite settled down for a
respectable match, and the daughter doesn't fall far from the tree.
Sheridan pushes away from the table in her cute little tennis skirt. I
excuse myself, catching up to her on the side of the club reserved for the
under thirty crowd.
"Missed a spot." I pass her a napkin to clear the residual powder from
her nose.
She holds out her hand. The charms clank against each other on the
bracelet, which holds the crystal vial of coke around her wrist. "Did you
want some?"
"No. Thanks."
"Then why are you back here? This is the side of the club where people
come to get high."
"You know I get my fix another way."
"We're not doing that anymore. Daddy has me, dating some big
investor."
Great. Another game of musical children. "Lemme guess. It's the son of
some ancient fart and you're supposed to pretend you've never had your
pussy split three ways to Sunday."
Dads are always trying to pass their daughters off as pure and chaste
and these idiots believe it. Sheridan would need a vaginoplasty for her hole
to ever be tight enough to pass for virginal. She's been in my club rotation
for three years.
"You understand, don't you, Logan?"
"Sure. Good luck." I step through the back door and spot a hostess I've
never seen before. She blushes when she catches me checking out her ass.
"Hey there. You look like you could use a break. Lemme buy you a drink."
I slip my arm around her shoulder and steer her towards one of the
empty card rooms.
 Once we're in the back, I spend some time kissing her neck and stroking
her pussy, while asking her questions. This is how I get a lot of my
information about the club members. When the help tells me something
particularly useful, I fuck their brains out. Today, that urge is fleeting. My
mind keeps darting back to the courtyard when Patrick had Jordanna
pressed against the building with his hand at her throat.
Those full lips parted, gasping for air. Her eyes wide with fear. He
squeezed too hard. But that's because he's never played like that before. I
would've made sure not to leave a mark. My dick stirs to life, finally, but
the timer on my phone indicates it’s time to go.
I step away, noting the hostess is a few strokes short of coming apart.
"You're leaving?" She pants.
"Sorry, your break is over. We'll have to finish this another time."

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 CHAPTER ELEVEN

K assidy's standing in the doorway of my bedroom, wiggling her

perfectly arched brows and twirling her imaginary mustache like a
vaudeville villain. Her eyes dance with excitement and mischief.
"Whatever it is, roomie, the answer is no."
"You should at least let me get the question out first."
"Fine. Ask it."
"We're going to a party."
"In that case, the answer is hell no."
"What's your excuse this time? Washing your hair?”
"How about the truth? The people you like to party with hate me. And
I'm not too fond of them either. Booze and bitches are a disaster in the
making."
"They're not that bad."
I give her a look that says, bitch please, and she amends her statement.
"Okay, so Bella and her posse are annoying, but not everyone at that party
is out to get you. There are plenty of decent people on campus. Besides,
hiding out in the dorms is exactly what Bella wants from you. Don't give it
to her."
Kassidy has been a great roommate so far, but she'll never understand
the pressure I'm under to succeed in the short amount of time I'm going to
be here.
"I need to study and work on my submission for the art symposium and
auction committee. You go and have fun without me."
 She walks over to my desk and pulls my pencil from my hand. "Let me
give you prep school reason number 101 why you need to come out with
me tonight. Stop thinking of it as a party and more like a networking
opportunity. Only without the classical music, or Sinatra standards."
She grabs my shoulders, turning me to face her. "We're only young
once. This is our excuse for acting irresponsibly and letting off steam."
"Do you get a commission for encouraging students to attend? If so, you
should negotiate a higher price."
She laughs good-naturedly. "I told you when you showed up here, that I
won't let you fall behind. I meant in school and in life. So come on toots,
get showered and dressed."

Two hours later, we're off campus heading towards the hills. When we reach
our destination, Kassidy pulls up behind a Lykan HyperSport. There are
cars parked side by side and end to end of the massive driveway. It looks
like a showroom at a high end dealership. I follow her through the open
doors gawking at the Varnished and Gilt-Bronze Cut- Glass Chandelier
suspended from the vaulted ceilings in the foyer. The only reason I know
what it is, is because mom had a client who insisted on having one from the
Baron de Rede collection last month. "Who's place is this?"
"Don't know. Don't care. We just show up wherever the text message
tells us to."
I never received a text message, so I'm forced to accept her answer and
her warning not to ask any more questions about it. I can tell she's serious
when she says not knowing is safer for all of us.
She stays glued to my side through my first drink, before wandering off
to dance. Then comes back after the third song and drags me to the
bathroom. "You never go to the bathroom alone. Got it? If you have to go,
you come drag me off the floor."
Okay. That's not ominous. We weave through bodies littered across the
house and finally reach a bathroom. I guard the door and when Kassidy's
done; I take the opportunity to use it myself. Our trip back to the main part
of the house is slower. A door opens and a couple stumbles into the hall.
She's pulling down her skirt, and he's still tucking his junk back into his
pants. I feel like my head is on fire, like Ghost Rider.
 We all reach the game room around the same time. The girl walks over
to the pool table and plants a kiss on a guy wearing a white and blue striped
polo shirt. He grips her ass, hoisting her onto the table, and wastes no time
stepping between her legs. She moans and pants, pulling his shirt up and
wrapping her legs around his waist. They're humping on the table like
they’re the only ones in the room. I avert my gaze, trying to make sense of
what I'm seeing.
"Didn't that girl just come out of that other room with that guy?" I point
to the guy standing up against the wall with a beer in his hand.
Kassidy grabs my hand dragging me to a new room. "Yup. Welcome to
your first official swap night at Van der Borne University. They don't call it
VDU for nothing."
"That's disgusting."
"Yes, but you'll never convince them of that."

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 CHAPTER TWELVE

S omeone throws a party on any day of the week around here. Sometimes
we're the first to show up. Sometimes, we're the last to arrive. Then
other times we won't make an appearance at all. My friends and I always
present a united front to the student body, because it makes it easier to
maintain control. As the head of the school, I set the tone for each event.
I’m loved and loathed and one false move can bring everything I built
crushing down around me. Nobody says it, but everyone secretly covets the
title of King of VDU.
It's swap night. VDU's equivalent of an extreme heatwave or full moon.
It's the one night a month where you don't have to lie about blacking out
when you get caught in a threesome with your boyfriend’s roommate or
older brother. It's a night of anything goes, no questions asked. An all access
pass to be as freaky as you want without consequences.
You have to plan in advance and be strategic about who you're fucking.
Speed is of the essence if you've set your sights on more than one conquest.
No guilt, no judgment, and it's one of the nights we see the highest turnout.
We always take swap night off campus because it doesn't just break the
school’s moral bylaws, it flirts with some ethical ones as well.
Tonight, we're using Tabitha's house to hold the event. I can't remember
the last time I saw either of her parents at any of their homes. Her dad
spends his time in NYC and LA, and her mom’s been on vacation for ten
out of the last eleven months.
I let out a satisfying groan as I drain my bladder. The girls come to swap
night with a warning to never come to the bathrooms alone. That's because
this place has great acoustics and horny males like to listen to their
conquests scream in stereo. It's sort of an unwritten rule: if you're in here
alone, it's because you're ready to be fucked.
The door opens as I'm washing my hands. A dark ponytail swings as the
newcomer turns to lock the door. When she turns back around, her eyes
widen in surprise and an “oh shit” tumbles from her lips. My dick perks up
at the sound. Now that's unexpected, and wholly unwelcome.
"I. I'm sorry. I didn't realize anyone was in here."
I re-lather and wash my hands again, even though I cleaned them well
enough the first time.
She points to the sink. "Are you almost done?"
"Why? You need my hands free for something else?"
"I need to use the bathroom."
"I'm not stopping you from doing that."
I shut off the water, taking an exaggerated amount of time to dry my
hands. She's afraid to look at the models in class, I doubt she's comfortable
enough to pull her pants down while I'm in here. Still, it's fun to see her
struggle with what to say and do next.
"Forget it." She huffs.
I stop her hasty retreat, pushing the door closed, and caging her body
between me and it.
"What are you doing?" Her question comes out as a strangled gasp.
I've been watching her. A week ago Bella was gloating at her triumph.
No one had seen Jordanna outside of her classes, and I was almost sure
she'd stay in hiding. But she's here. Tonight. The one place everyone knows
Bella would be.
"Why do you find it so hard to run the other way when Bella's around?"
She glares at me over her shoulder. “Because I'm not scared of your
wretched girlfriend."
I stiffen at the assumption. Everyone assumes. "Girlfriend isn't the term
I give to any woman." I pick up the silky strands of her ponytail, wrap them
around my fist and tug, bringing them to my nose.
"Don't touch me." She hisses, her voice laced with a hint of discomfort.
The demand has the opposite effect of what she wants. I move closer,
spinning her around to face me, amused by the look of indignation on her
face. Most girls would love to have me crowding their space. She’s looking
around like she's ready to crawl through the air vents to get away from me.
 "What are you doing?" She asks when I grab her chin, forcing her to
look at me.
"I just want to remind you of the rules."
Her voice trembles slightly when she asks, "What rules?"
Maybe no one told her. That would explain this devil may care attitude
she's carrying around campus, though I'd expect Kassidy to have explained
the way things work around here by now.
"Rule number one. This is our school, we're just letting you visit, until
the time comes when we're ready to send you back to whatever mediocre
existence you came from. Rule number two. No matter what you see. No
matter what you hear." I press my thumb against her bottom lip. "You keep
your mouth shut."
She swats at my hand. "I said don't touch me."
My body reacts to her attempts to get away. Fuck, it's been months since
I've taken part in a swap night and five minutes in the bathroom with this
girl makes me want to jump in. It gets complicated when I screw somebody
I've hooked up with before, and dangerous to bang a new piece of ass who
hasn't been properly vetted. She's still trying to get away, this time moving
her lower body to the side to escape my growing erection.
I'm an ass. I press against her, decreasing the space between us, and
lower my head; barely brushing my lips against her ear. She gasps at the
contact, drawing my attention to her mouth. I lean closer, her lips
millimeters away from mine. If either of us moves, our lips will graze in a
kiss. She continues to fight for an inch of space, sending another wave of
heat to my cock.
"Careful Jordy. The more you fight, the harder it gets."
She goes completely still. Thank fuck. It gives me a moment to get my
reaction under control. I step away, readjusting my dick. Making eye
contact with her while I do it makes me hard all over again. Her face is
flushed, her breathing ragged. Her eyes look down, then away. God, she's so
fucking uncomfortable with sexuality, what the hell is she doing at this
party?
"I'd offer to pull it out so you can paint it, but we both know you
wouldn't be able to do it justice." I flick my eyes to her hands. "Then again,
maybe a more hands on approach is what you need."
Her eyes snap to mine, and the blush of embarrassment turns to fury.
"You're disgusting."
 I chuckle, leaving her in the bathroom seething behind me. Forget the
vetting process. I point to a sophomore I recognize from one of our beach
house parties last year. She's all too happy to follow me to an empty corner.
Shauna sees us and walks over, along with one of her friends. The three of
them keep my attention up to the point where they start fighting over who
gets to suck me off first. I give them a better alternative. They can play nice
with each other and let me watch.

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 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I 'm a loyal girlfriend, and for as long as Robbie and I have been together,
I never once thought about hooking up with someone else. So, how did I
wind up in a bathroom with Logan, thinking about how it would feel to kiss
him? Especially when his hand on my chin was bruising, his words were
shaming and nothing in his demeanor screamed friendly.
It's like the concept of personal space is lost on him and his friends. But
there I was, trapped against the door with the darkened soul of a monster
looking at me, with his obvious erection poking into my belly, enjoying my
discomfort. Then after his crude comment about giving him a hand job, he
had not one, not two, but three women clawing at him in a corner.
I wasn't trying to stare, he just happened to be in my line of sight when I
came out of the bathroom. The bastard had the nerve to wink at me. Is it
wrong to hope he catches something?
It's been too long. I need to see my boyfriend. He'd never lock me in a
bathroom and offer to pull his dick out for me to paint. Thank God for
manners and respect. Basic concepts the beautiful people here are sorely
lacking.
The crushing ache I get every time I think of my friends and Robbie
creeps in. I dial his number even though I should be studying. I'm drifting
through these days and I just want to feel grounded. Connected. The call
goes to voice mail, so I dial my mother. Even her special brand of passive
aggressiveness is preferable to the looming dread I feel about meeting my
study group at the cafe.
"Hi, honey. I was just thinking about you. How's school?"
 "Oh, you know. Educational. How are things at home?"
"Well, I'm swamped at work, but it's good to be busy after sitting home
all these years, you know? And Summer's doing great. You know when she
finds that sweet spot on the court it's nothing but net, so the other booster
club mother's are happy to include me in their bake sales and car washes."
Mom and Summer never have any trouble fitting in. Sports
automatically make Summer popular and my mother is an interior designer,
although she's just rejoining the workforce. They have those qualities that
draw people to them. Me, I have my art, which draws a different type of
attention. Plus, I'm an introvert at heart. Robbie, Marina, and Tiffany drew
me out of that shell. Being here makes me wanna crawl back in it.
I listen as my mother tells me her plans for decorating a beach house
and I wish I could see how it turns out. The color palette sounds whimsical
and free. She's where I get my artistic side from. Summer's athleticism is
from our dad. The ache of loneliness is replaced by the debilitating sorrow I
feel about losing my dad.
Fucking drunk drivers. It's why I only drink in moderation and why I
think one drink is too many to get behind the wheel. It's also why I have a
fear of driving. I have a license, but I'll bus and train it everywhere just to
avoid having to be in control of a car. The therapist I used to see said it's an
irrational fear. I told her, it's rational when your dad was on his way to pick
you up from school and was killed while operating one.
I end the call with my mother, feeling better now that I've spoken to
someone who knows me and loves me. School work can wait. I grab my
dorm key, slip my phone in my pocket, and sling the strap of my portfolio
over my shoulder. Noel said he'd look at my work. I think I'll take him up
on that offer.
The path to the art and humanities building is one of the most well lit
places on campus. The students hold night time art exhibits outside and the
lighting spotlights specific places along the walkway. The last alcove
towards the building has no such illumination. It's dark and secluded and I
get a chill listening to my footsteps echoing on the concrete. An additional
sound sends a tingle down my spine. I slow to a stop, straining my ears.
Bloody hell. Is everyone on this campus so horny they just tear into each
other no matter where they are? Outside the building. For real?
The guy grunts, the girl moans, and I’m frozen listening to the sounds.
"Why'd you stop?" She coos.
 "I think we've got company." He calls out, "Whoever's out there, I bet
Nanette won't mind if you join."
My spine stiffens. I recognize the voice. Nanette giggles her agreement.
"That's right. I'm always up for a party."
The sound of their voices is enough to snap me out of my fog. With all
the screwing he's doing, when does he have time to study? And can I double
down on the VD wish?

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 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T o call Bella territorial is an understatement. I give her a lot of leeway

because as long as she's playing her games with other people, I can
focus on my sculpting and the paper. Most of the time she sticks to
tormenting people at parties and sporting events.
Nobody goes out of their way to get on her bad side, and even the
freshman feel her sphere of influence before they ever step foot on campus.
That's the way it's been for her for as long as she can remember. Which is
why she's been telling me for the last twenty minutes that Jordanna's
behavior is so unacceptable. I thought she handled that when she told
everyone about Jordanna's stepfather.
"Sounds like she's getting under your skin. Is it because her hair is so
bouncy and shiny? Her tits are rounder and perkier? Or because her ass is
screaming for a man to fill it?"
I made those observations at last weekend's party. I made it through
swap night untouched, but the need to get off didn't go away, so I used
Nanette's mouth to blow my load the other night.
"Fuck you Logan, I'm not jealous of that twit. Vandi U has a reputation
to uphold. She's the chancellor's latest outreach project, and we all agreed
when they revamped the scholarship program that we wouldn't support
anyone who doesn't fit in. You see her, and you know she doesn't belong
here."
This is getting old. "Bella, if you don't like it. Do something about it."
Feigned sweetness replaces the disdain in her voice. "I'm working on it,
but I need help."
 Great. She's about to make a pitch on how we can speed up Jordanna's
ousting from campus. Most of the time I sit around watching my friends
play their games. I like having a front-row seat to the fallout, but it's been a
while since I've actually gotten my hands dirty. The bets are getting
redundant and have lost their appeal. For me to even consider getting
involved, what the other person is offering has to be comparable to what I'd
have to offer, and that's the measure of it.
There's only one thing anyone ever wants me to bet. The VP position at
dad's company. So they band together and try to think up these ridiculous
stunts that they're sure I'll have no way of winning. I'm not ruled by my ego
and have no problem saying no. But sometimes, just to inspire them, I say
yes. I've always succeeded at whatever they've thrown at me, and haven't let
them pull me into a bet since spring of last year.
"There's a room full of people that would be happy to help Bella. Take
your pick."
"What about you?" She flashes a smile at me. Part sweet, part sincere,
all parts lie. This isn't a benign inquiry. It never is.
Hal passes me the bourbon bottle. "You already know my answer. Find
something that's a challenge and I'll consider it."
"You say that every time and then turn around and complain that what
we've come up with isn't challenging enough."
"That's because it isn't. Convince the TA to change a grade. Flirt with
the provost’s wife in front of him. Walk the halls naked. Guys. This is high
school shit and we're not in high school anymore."
"Well, what would get you interested?"
"Something that would have a lifelong impact on everyone involved.
Something where the ripple affect would be felt generations from now. You
want me to play, it has to be a real game changer."
I take a gulp of the bourbon, letting the burn slide down my throat and
settle in my chest before speaking again. I pass the bottle of to the next
person. "The future of my company would be at stake. I'd like to at least
feel like there's a chance I could lose."
Bella hands me her phone. "How's this for motivation?"
I read the article about Jordanna Felding, the future Pulitzer prize
winning high school journalist. Who's an award-winning painter and
photographer. She's listed as the one to watch in print and digital media and
earns a gold seal of approval for integrity from the frigid housewives of
America.
I read aloud. "Courage amidst a difficult situation. Following the
evidence which ultimately revealed embezzlement at the investment firm
her stepfather owned. He's currently incarcerated, awaiting trial."
My eyes, linger on that part of the article more than anything else that is
written. Penn Waldorf. Dad’s got a folder in his filing cabinet with his name
on it. I give the phone back. "We already know she's a narc."
"Did you read the entire article? It also says she's sweet and kind and so
innocent. Untouched and unmatched in virtue."
"So, she's waiting for prince charming to pop her cherry. Good for her."
Bella flashes the smile that prefaces every bet she's ever made. "How
much work do you think it would be to take a reputation like that and flip it
on its head for everyone to see?"
I feel a small flicker of curiosity to hear what she's thinking. It's the
reporter in me, always looking for the story. "What are you proposing
Bella?"
"I bet the VP position that you can't make her fall in love with you."
The flicker snuffs out before the wick can catch fire. "Too easy. She'd be
saying I love you after a few dates."
"I'm not done. You have to make her believe that you love her and want
to help restore her family's name. You convince her to trust you and then
eradicate that sweet, wholesome gooey goodness. When you pull the pin,
and tell her how much she actually disgusts you, it will definitely get rid of
that chip on her shoulder."
My dad’s mission in life is to make money and to make sure no
opponent real or imagined, is left standing. If Jordanna's got her eyes on
journalism, and photography, we could be competing for the same
internships. I haven't checked her rank on Prospectus, because, well I don't
give a shit. But now, that there might be a small threat, I'm mildly irritated.
The connections we make in this school are invaluable and can change
the trajectory of someone's life. I don't need the publicity, because either
way my name is synonymous with media and publishing. But, with
Jordanna's family history, she'd be seen as untrustworthy and an
embarrassment to VDU, which could tank our school’s national ranking.
We can buy our way into anything, but some credentials are more valid
when they're authentic and earned organically.
 "The article says she's a virgin, Bella. What the hell am I supposed to do
with that?"
"Deflower the sanctimonious tart, of course."
Like I said. A bet that's not worth the time or consideration I'm giving it.
"You want someone to seduce her into losing her virginity? She's not bad to
look at, and pussy is pussy. Anyone would take this bet."
"If I give this to anyone else, they might actually fall for her self-
righteous act and ruin everything. You saw what happened with Frankie
over the summer. No, this has to be done correctly. I know there's no risk of
your heart getting involved, because you don't have one."
And that's the double-sided coin they flip. I can detach because I don't
care, but I care enough to want power and prestige for years to come. I care
about the legacy I leave behind at this school. "Convincing her to give up
her cherry hardly seems worthy of the VP position at McKay Media."
"No, but we both know you don't do vanilla. If you can make her follow
you to those deep dark places that exist inside you and get it on tape. Then,
we'll have all the leverage we need to prove she's not as virtuous as these
wannabe journalists are saying. Think about the traction your father's paper
will get with a story like this. Think of the irony. Her story about doing the
right thing no matter the consequences went national. Yours about her being
a hypocrite will have twice the reach. She'll be ruined, and not even the
boyfriend from back home will want anything to do with her."
I read that part too. Boyfriend of eighteen months, content to wait. Does
he even like pussy? "What do I get when I win?"
"If you win, I'll finally give you the only thing in this world you've ever
really wanted."
Bella is the only person who has what anyone would call leverage
against me. It's a small thing. Inconsequential to most. But that's what
makes it so utterly appealing. One of the first commercially made cameras.
A Giroux Daguerretoype.
It came up on auction a few years ago, and I'd been working to get it to
switch hands since my sophomore year of high school. I was finally in a
position to acquire it, two years ago, and somehow Bella got to it first.
It's what she does. It's how she controls. I watch as the topic of our
conversation strolls across the football field like she doesn't have a care in
the world. She smiles, offering pleasantries to everyone she passes. Pathetic
how nice she is. We don't have much use for nice around here. Nice means
sweet and strongly bound to ethics. Nice means friendly with the faculty.
Most of the administrative staff and teachers turn a blind eye to us, but
there are a few that like to stick to their ethics. And Jordanna's on record as
being a narc. If she's ratting out her own parents, there's no ways she won't
cave when questioned about the shit we're into.
We try to keep our exploits away from campus or over at The Rift, but
sometimes Kassidy lets me use her room for a little of this or that. I'd hate
to have to break in a new spot.
Nice is the way Jordanna's ass is shaking when she walks. Tempting
guys to stare even though her face says no fucking way. Yeah, it's been a
minute since I've had to work for some pussy and it's fun to push people's
limits. I could come up with some creative ways to find hers. This could be
just the distraction I need. Bella's studying me, trying to gauge my reaction.
I know better than to agree right away.
"I'll think about it."

Tabitha flicks the top of her pen. The repetitive clicking in contrast to the
soft tap of my fingers on my keyboard. I click through the tabs on my
computer, jotting down notes.
"This little research project of yours is cutting into dinner."
I hold up a finger as I pull up a new tab. "Just a few more minutes."
"You said that two ‘few more minutes ago’." She comes closer. "What
are you looking for anyway?"
I close my screen and turn in my chair, but not before she gets a look.
"Ah, so you have the same questions I do."
My face is impassive, showing no reaction to her accusation. "Which
are?"
"Well, I'm used to Bella deciding to target someone. But, I've been
wondering why she was so adamant about this bet. With this girl. I mean,
she hates Jordanna, and it can't be as simple as the scholarship student not
giving up her seat on the first day of school."
"Okay. That's your question. What did you come up with?"
 She chews on the side of her thumb. "The questions lead to more
questions."
Tabitha likes to watch and observe and she’s usually pretty good about
putting clues together. If she's stumped, and I'm stumped, maybe we're
looking at it from the wrong angle. Perhaps the answer doesn't lie with
Bella. I jot down more notes.
I'm relying on information she provided about Jordanna, and again,
because she was no threat or interest to me, I didn't do a deep dive on my
own about Bella's target. I've spent the last few hours rectifying that and
haven't found anything interesting to note.
Tabby's watching, and I say what she's thinking. "I know. Bella's going
to want an answer in the next few days or she'll pass it off to someone else."
"You don't care?"
"No, I don't. It's a sucker bet and I've got better things to do with my
time." I stand, grabbing my keys from my desk drawer. "Let's go, Nancy
Drew. Dinner's on me."

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 CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I can sense something is off the moment I reach my dorm room. The front
door is unlocked but Kassidy isn't home. When I reach the couch, the
smell of turpentine assaults my nose. Please tell me I didn't leave the cap off
and knock it over. I'm pretty sure I can get expelled for a fire hazard. I
unlock my bedroom door, greeted by an empty easel.
Oh god! No. Please, no! I rush into our shared bathroom and find my
canvas soaking in a tub of paint thinner. The portrait I've been working on
for my contest submission is ruined. Tears burn my eyes, dripping onto the
canvas, mixing with the muddy swirls of color. It's too late to save it, and I
can't afford to miss my World Finance lecture.
I let the drain out of the tub, wash my hands and crack some windows to
air out the room, before grabbing the book I came back for and dragging
myself down the steps. I hate this place, and now I have to start from
scratch on the one thing that was going to help me get out of here.
I started drafting the concept for that painting over the summer. It took
me months to get as far as I was. The deadline for our next segmented
submission is a week from now. How the hell am I going to pull it together
by then?
I pass Bella and her bitch squad on the way to the humanities building.
She doesn't even try to hide the can of acetone and paint thinner at her feet.
Fuck being late, she needs to pay for what she's done. I rush towards her,
seeing red, intent on ripping her hair out. A long, tall shadow steps in my
path.
 Logan. How gallant, protecting his girlfriend from a beat down. "You
coming over here to take me up on my offer, Jordy? If not. Keep walking."
"My name's Jordanna.” I snap, “Now move the hell out of my way,
Logan."
"I could do that. Jordy. But it'll cost you."
"I'm not paying you money to walk on free grass."
"Good, because the fee isn't paper currency. If you want to get around
me to Bella, me and my boys each need a turn with your lips around our
cocks."
My stomach knots, bile rising in my throat. They wouldn't do that,
right? Like really expect the same woman to give each of them oral sex. I
think back to the last party. Yeah, they would. "That's disgusting."
"So you keep saying. Either way, it's a toll tax. You want to step onto
our side of the quad, you'll need to pay it."
He's twining his hands around my hair, one on each side as if pulling on
a horse's reins. "Although I hear you've never seen a cock up close and
personal, so, I think we can bend the rules this time and just use mine for
your inaugural suck."
No one, and I mean no one, has ever been so crass as to say those things
directly to my face. Sure, I've heard them yelled out of car windows, but
those idiots just like to get a reaction from their friends. Logan's eyes zero
in on my mouth. Based on what I've seen and heard him doing with women
around campus, he's serious about me going down on him.
"Don't you have enough spit caked onto your dick?" I grind through my
clenched teeth. "It's a wonder you can even piss from the clogged hole."
"There's no need to be jealous, Jordy." He tugs my hair again. "There's
always room for more."
His friends whistle and cosign. "Can we watch?" One of them asks.
"I've never seen a virgin give head before."
"Fuck, yeah." The one named Hal unhooks the button on his jeans as if
preparing for me to sink to my knees.
I'm feeling heated for a reason other than wanting to murder Bella. I'm
not ashamed of my virginity. I gave plenty of interviews in high school and
my freshman year in college about why I was waiting, but the jerks are
using it as a punch line to demean me.
"Let go." I reach up, swatting Logan's hand away. He unfists my hair,
only to grab my face and press his thumbs in the hinges of my jaw.
 "You gonna open wide so I can stuff your mouth with my cock?"
"Hell, no!"
"Then no Bella for you. I suggest you be on your way." He loosens his
grip and pushes me forward. His evil laugh follows me, then calls out, "If
you change your mind Jordy, you know where to find me."

I know Jordanna wanted to confront Bella about her painting. I was on a

call with my dad, when I got the alert on Prospectus that there was
something happening at the dorms, and I got there too late to stop Bella
from destroying it. I respect art and she took things a little too far.
Another alert chimes on my phone while I'm sitting down with my
coffee. It's an internal memo from the chancellor's office. "Shit."
"What's wrong?"
I show Hal the message. The submission deadline for the next round of
judging has been postponed, and the faculty has launched an investigation
into the vandalism of the art studio where some of the heavier or biggest
contest paintings and sculptures are kept. It seems in the gang's attempt to
find Jordanna's canvas they trashed the studio and a few other non-related
paintings. Fucking idiots.
I wave my phone at Bella. "Do you see the shit storm you created?"
"So what if a couple of paintings got trashed. They can paint dots all
over again."
"Some of the items were already commissioned, others were for the
contest, and still others weren't even student works. They were loaners, for
an upcoming exhibit. But you indiscriminately trashed shit, putting us in the
line of fire."
The part about the loaner paintings is the only thing she reacts to. Her
grandparents donate from the family collection each year. She knows how
expensive those paintings are.
"Relax Logan, nobody's gonna suspect us, and if they do, they won't say
anything."
"It's too fucking late, Bella. All the applicants are already being asked if
their submission was vandalized. I have to go see Dean Allen tomorrow."
"Why you weren't even… shit. Charity case squealed."
"Most likely. Yeah."
She grabs her purse, preparing to leave. "I'll have to teach her a lesson."
Her methods are what got us in this mess. I stand to my feet, handing
my coffee to Tabby. "Don't bother. I'll handle it." I nod my heads to the boys
and we go off to undo the damage Bella's done.

We corner Jordanna after her World Finance class. Hal snatches her by the
hair, pulling her into the empty lecture hall, while Frankie locks the door,
before coming over to where we're standing. I've got my forearm against
her throat, holding her in place. This is how Patrick should have done it.
"Charity-Narc, I have a meeting with the Dean tomorrow about vandalism.
You've been running your mouth, I see."
"You destroyed my painting. What else was I supposed to say when
asked why I wasn't ready to meet the second round deadlines on something
the judging committee has already been tracking?"
Hal suggests, "Maybe tell them you didn't have a design."
"It's a real time canvas, idiot. I've been uploading pictures and videos of
my process." She shifts her head to face me. "You know that."
The wrath of the goddess of war blazes from her eyes. "I bet you told
them to do it, because on this, I was your competition. It'll serve you right,
it they reject your submission and kick you off the paper, too."
Now she's threatening my art and my editor status. I signal for Hal and
Frankie to each grab one of Jordanna's hands, holding them above her head.
 "Get off!" She says, struggling against their hold. I trail my hand along
her breast, squeezing her nipple through her blouse. The yelp she emits, is
shock mixed with pain.
"Don’t touch me, you asshole." Her bark is about as menacing as a
diamond collared Chihuahua.
"You wanna bend me over a barrel, Jordy? Fine. But how about I go
first?"
I lean closer, tugging the lobe of her ear with my teeth. I force myself to
focus on talking, ignoring the smell of her shampoo and the scent of her
perfume. The way they mix with the lingering scent of paint and acetone as
a base note. She smells like art, and my fingers itch to put the feelings those
swirling scents dredge up on canvas.
I slip my hand under her shirt, grabbing her waist. "Get off of me, or I'll
scream."
"Is that a promise?"
My body reacts to her struggling. "Remember what I told you about
fighting me, Jordy? Do you want to revisit my offer to let you suck me off
with people watching?"
She finally stops moving. "Good girl. Now the damage to your painting
is already done, but I know you haven't given any names to the campus
police yet, and we're gonna keep it that way. Understood?"
"The dean already knows what happened."
"He knows about the vandalism. The fallout from that will die off as
soon as all the students agree to the extended deadline to submit the next
round of pictures, and no more art gets destroyed. I need your promise,
Jordy. No names." I've wedged my knee between her jean-clad legs. Putting
me closer to her scent. The heat of her body seeps into mine.
My hand has crawled higher. "What are you doing?" The shock and fear
changes the pitch in her voice. Her breath quickens as she fights the urge to
shy away from my touch. "I need your agreement Jordy."
“You’re kidding, right? I know what you're posting about me and you've
already destroyed my painting. Your girlfriend has made it her mission in
life to make my life hell. Why would I promise you anything?"
I watch her face drain of color when I yank her bra down, dragging my
thumb across her nipple. "Because if you don't, things are gonna get so
much worse."
 Someone whistles from the hall, letting me know the professor is
heading back this way. “This is your only warning, charity.”
The boys release her hands, and she hurries to the door. There's a nice
sized crowd gathered outside and Tabitha captures the moment we exit the
room behind her. She can either keep quiet about who destroyed her
painting or have her reputation as a good little girl, so ruined that no one
with any authority around here will believe anything she says, ever again.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I had to sit through class, feeling as if fire ants were crawling all over my
skin. Doesn't anyone around here know how to have a sensible
conversation without pinning me against a wall? But Logan's actions didn't
stop there.
No, he touched me, as if he had every right to. And what was with my
reaction? I had an inkling where his hand was heading and I was prepared
to knee him in the balls, so why didn't I? There was nothing gentle about his
touch, or being restrained against my will, so why didn't I fight back?
His erection. The idea of it touching me, worried me more than anything
else that was happening at the time. I made myself and Robbie a promise.
Even if it sounds childish, his is the first penis I'm ever going to touch.
They're congregated on the beautiful people's version of the grassy knoll
again. The way Logan's eyes are following me, I certainly feel like I'm an
enemy combatant who has flown too close to my opponents air space. I
avert my gaze, hurrying to my next class. Flashes of him touching me
fueling the illogical impression that I can't get enough air in my lungs.

"Jordanna…" Kassidy waves her hand in my face.

"God. Sorry. What did you say?"
"Girl, whatever you and Robbie were talking about last night must've
been goo-ood." She sing-songs.
"Why do you say that?"
 "Because you've been in a trance all day. Damn, I don't know the last
time somebody on the other end of the phone had me spacing out."
I listen as she tells me about Pualo, a tour guide she met in Brazil, when
she was fifteen, and how he used to whisper the sweetest things to her in
heavily accented English.
I interrupt her retelling when she gets to the part about him rolling his
'R's'.
"Kass, wasn't this guy too old for you?"
"Love has no number or ageist boundaries. Besides, he was just turning
seventeen, so no, not really."
He could've been just turning twenty and I probably would've gotten the
same answer. Kassidy is what Marina would call completely in-tune with
herself. She refuses to impose restrictions on her sensuality and embraces
platonic and romantic relationships with her whole heart.
Her parents are relationship gurus, who are on the verge of becoming
bigger than Masters and Johnson and Dr. Ruth combined. They have a
secluded retreat in the Caribbean where they work with clients. Her mother
is a psychologist and sex therapist. She married Gus Coen the former owner
of Flesh.
He and his blushing pride started out hosting parties and couples retreats
for friends. They received such great reviews and referrals they turned it
into a thriving business. Gus sold Flesh five years ago, and they moved to
the island full time. According to Kassidy, Hedonism I and II in Jamaica
deals with the surface of lust and desire, her parents dig deeper to give the
guests the tools to be their authentic self, and then those desires manifest in
a way they can deeply share with someone else.
The casual way she walks about talking about masturbation and sex, not
to mention the frequency with which she engages in it, I can tell she was a
star pupil at her parents workshops.
"Uh, oh. Did I say something too naughty for you again?" She teases.
"No. Why?"
"Because you have that look on your face you get whenever I talk about
the shape of someone's penis." She shrugs. "You think you'd be okay with
detailed descriptions since you're an artist."
"I'm fine with descriptions. It's all the adjectives you sprinkle in. "
"Girl, you need to know that some dicks are fat, some are skinny, and
the color the mushroom head gets depending on nationality of its owner. Or
is Robbie's pickle the only one you're ever adding to your ice cream?"
"Yes. As a matter of fact, it is."
"You sure you don't wanna try out a few before you make that
decision?"
"Of course, I'm sure. I dated before Robbie, but he's the only one I've
ever thought of having sex with. And the only one who understood my
decision to wait. He's the perfect guy for me."
She sits on the floor in front of me, crossing her legs. "How do you
know?"
"What do you mean?"
"You said he's the perfect guy for you. How do you know?"
"We share the same interests. Have the same type of upbringing. He's
sweet and patient."
"Right, but how do you know he's perfect for you, if you've never
shagged him? Sexual compatibility is just as important as all that other stuff
you named. That's how mom and Daddy Gus stay raking in the bucks,
counseling people who thought their spouse or boyfriend or girlfriend were
perfect for them, until their freak came out and they realized they were
never gonna be satisfied in the bedroom."
"Wait, I thought your parents were known for getting the most sexually
incompatible couples a happy ending."
"They do. Sometimes, that means the couples break up. Their whole
goal is making the individual whole and happy with themselves."
I chew my lip. That's not quite what I imagined a sex retreat to be about.
Impressive. "Well, I'm happy with myself and I know Robbie is happy with
himself, and I don't have any sexual experiences to compare it to, so I can't
be disappointed about what I don't know. Can I?"
"I guess you have a point there. Well, are you at least planning to move
up your time frame, or is your first time going to be your wedding night?"
"What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, if that's your authentic self. If you're just holding on to the
idea because they published it in paper. Well, screw that shit. You're not
seventeen anymore. You can change your mind and the hell with what
people think."
I have trouble settling down for bed after our movie goes off. Kassidy gave
me a lot to think about. Am I still waiting because I'm not ready, or is it
because I feel pressured into it because of that article that was published
about me? Those were my ideas and opinions at the time, but have they
changed?
I do the right thing. I always have. It's the one thing everyone knows
about me. Even amidst scrutiny and peer pressure, I'm known for being true
to the values my parents instilled in me, pre doofus. Summer and I have
always been told to do what's right for us, no matter what others may think.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I plop down in the seat beside Jordanna. It's been two days since I had my
hand on her tits, and she still can't look me in the eye. She comes
straight out the gate, dismissing my presence. "That seat's reserved for us
commoners. The royal asshole section is in the back."
She quickly gathers her things when she sees I'm not moving. My long
legs remain unmoved, blocking her exit. "Excuse me." She says while
trying to ease by me.
I pull her back down into the seat, a firm grip on her arm. "Rushing off
so soon? Don't get me wrong. I'm impressed with your decision to cut class,
but I have it on good authority that there may be a quiz on the homework so
you might want to stick around for that."
"I'm not leaving class. I'm just not in the mood to get into a verbal
sparring match with you and your friends." She peels my finger off her arm.
"Or have your hands on me. So, I'll move and they can sit here."
"Are you saying you didn't like when I squeezed your tits? Because I
have to say I did."
"Of course you did."
"Now don't go getting a big head. They were just tits. Not necessarily
the best pair I've ever felt. But also not the worst. It's hard to judge without
putting them in my mouth."
She stands to leave and I yank her back again. "Sit your ass down, or
everyone will get an eyeball full and get to vote on the size and shape of
your breast."
"Are you threatening to rip my shirt off?"
 "No Jordy. I'm promising to do it. And you should know, half the people
in this class are voyeurs. They'd love the show."
"The professor…"
"Has been divorced for a year and beats his shit to Flesh Magazine’s
swimsuit edition in between classes. He'd be the fist one to cream his pants
at the sight of real tits."
Her brows furrow and her adorable little nose crinkles in disbelief. "I
don't-"
"What? Believe me?" My hand is already on her shirt. It's a pink blouse
with fragile looking buttons. It won't take any effort at all to shred it. I tug
on it, watching the top two buttons strain against their loops. "Try me."
Carson from the basketball team is in the seat on the other side of her,
listening to every word. "I would definitely be up for seeing your tits."
He walks his fingertips over her shoulder, and down to stop at the top of
her breast. He cuts his eyes at me, waiting to see if I rebuke him, when she
shifts away from his touch. I move my hand to her thigh, holding her in
place.
He’s focused on her chest as if he has X-ray vision. He nods, in
agreement. "Go on, Jordanna. Please try him."
I squeeze her thigh, hard enough to bruise before turning to face the
front of the class. "See what I mean."
"Why can't you just leave me alone, Logan?"
"Because my meeting with the dean is this afternoon, and you still
haven't promised not to tell what happened to your painting."
My hand slips between her thighs. Her throat spasms, as she tries to
pretend she's unaffected by what I'm doing. It's a tough spot to be in.
Conflicted about ratting me out and drawing attention to us, or sitting
through it. This could be fun, seeing how quiet and still she can be. But
there is a quiz today, and Carson is leaning closer and closer like a starving
shark scenting blood in the water.
"Just two little words, Jordy. Say, 'I promise.'" I tip my head towards the
ball player. "If you don't there won't be anything I can do to stop Carson
from doing what he wants."
"That's a lie, and we both know it.”
So she has been learning. Good. "You're right, then let me rephrase that.
If you don't promise, I won't stop him from doing what he wants. He's not
always known for his restraint."
 "And you are? I seem to remember you assaulting me a few days ago."
I shift in my seat, remembering it too. The smooth taut skin of her
stomach, full tits. Truth be told, my hands are itching to touch her again.
But not here, with Carson leeching all over her. I want to get her alone and
take my time with her, turning her innocent flesh pink wherever I touch it.
Her chin is still in the air, spine straight, as if refusing to submit to my
demand. I wonder how high she'd hold her head if I pushed her on her
knees and made her gag.
I shake myself from my musings, tuning back into the conversation in
time enough to hear Carson ask, "What do you say charity case? Logan gets
the front hole and I'll get the back."
"I'd say it sounds like you're into crossing swords so just eliminate me
as the middleman, and you two asses go at."
"Bitch!" He grips her arm, yanking hard, causing her book to tumble off
the desk. The thump causes heads to turn, including the professor’s.
"Carson." My voice is a low threat, directed towards him, because he's
the one drawing attention.
It happens fast, a flurry of movements and a muffled yelp of pain. I look
over to see him holding up his hand, blood seeping from four slashes across
the back of his arm.
I drape my arm over the back of Jordanna's chair, pinning her right arm
between us and grasping her left wrist, taking away her ability to strike out
at me too. "Sheath those claws, Jordy. Unlike Carson, I love when a woman
scratches me."
She flails her arms, trying to elbow me. "You're sick."
"And I think you like teasing me, since I've already mentioned fighting
makes my dick hard."
I angle my body towards her, slipping my hand back between her
thighs. She clenches her legs together, but that doesn't stop me from
working my hand higher. "Is this your way of trying to seduce me? I must
say, it's unusual, but not wholly ineffective."
"I take it back. You're not sick."
"Thanks you."
"You're delusional, if you think this is me trying to tell you I'm
interested in you."
"You're saying you're not?"
 She turns her head to face me. "That's right, I'm not. In fact, I got on my
knees the other day, and prayed your dick would fall off."
"So you admit you have thought about my dick."
She flushes and stammers, unable to think of a reply. I chuckle darkly,
shifting away, when the stack of quiz papers finally make it to our row. I
pass the papers over her head. When the spare forms are carried back to the
front, the professor announces we have thirty minutes to complete the quiz.
She’s fuming because she can't leave her seat without forfeiting her grade
on the quiz, and yet she has no quiz to take.
"I'm waiting, Jordy." I wave a test sheet in front of her. "Give me your
promise, you won't name names about the art vandalism, and you get this."
"Fine. I promise."
I hand her the paper, satisfied with her agreement that she won't rat out
my friends.

Patrick's pissed. Three students have asked for refunds because the test they
took was nothing like the answers they bought off of him. After hearing his
rant, we've all come to the same conclusion. We underestimated Jordanna
Felding and her need to get even for what happened to her painting. She
didn't tell anyone who destroyed the studio, but ratting out Patrick about
selling test answers was obviously still on the table. It wasn't a direct strike
against Bella but the bomb lands close enough the we have to manage the
fallout.
We've threatened her, Bella's got her mean girl brigade teasing her, and
as of five minutes ago, the video of her coming out of the lecture hall with
me and the guys in tow is going around school.
Her hair was a mess after I ran my fingers through it, and Hal made a
big show of pulling up his zipper when we stepped into the hall. Nobody
will believe we didn't all have a run at her, unless I come out and say
nothing happened. It's been a week, and she's still walking around here with
her head held high like we're the ones beneath her.
She's in line for coffee after having avoided this place since the night
Bella had someone dump their drink all over her. We're all pissed, she
narced, but it's the scholarships student's prideful arrogance that aggravates
Bella the most.
Jordanna sees us all staring, I lift a brow, daring her to say or do
something. She lifts her cup to her lip, tapping it with her middle finger. I
hear Bella hiss, "bitch" and excuse myself to take a call from my little
brother.
He should be in his French class at the fancy private school he attends.
If he's calling me now, I know it's important. I step outside the building and
spot her alone at a bench behind the coffee shop with her sketch books
spread in front of her. I make a beeline for her when I end my call. The
height of the bench puts her level to my hips. The perfect height for holding
her head down as I pound the mouth she doesn't know how to keep shut.
"I thought we had a deal."
"You're mistaken, I don't negotiate with terrorists."
I slip onto the bench next to her. "You promised not to rat us out, and in
return I let you take a quiz that was worth 15% of your grade."
My hand is digging into her leg, a silent warning to sit still and be quiet.
"I didn't give names about the vandalism."
"Patrick's customers aren't happy that the tests they received weren't the
tests they paid for."
"And that's my fault?"
"The only way the teachers change their tests, is if they think they've
been compromised. The only way they could get that idea is if someone was
running their mouth."
"Or, they realized, someone hacked their accounts. Maybe Patrick left a
digital footprint, or did something idiotic, like forgetting to log out so that
any and everyone could see what he was up to."
That's a good point. He's not always the most detail-oriented person
when his mind is on fucking and drinking. He was doing both at the last
party. Someone else could be at fault, but my gut is telling me the goody-
two-shoes in front of me is the culprit. She licks her lips and twists her
napkin, while avoiding my gaze.
I hate being ignored. I grip her chin, forcing her to look at me. Those
prismatic eyes widen, a small gasp tumbles from her lips. I swipe my thumb
across the bottom one, tightening my grip when she tries to pull away. I
lean closer, catching the scent of strawberries and vanilla in her hair. "You
almost had me there, Jordy. I know it was you. Why couldn't you do what
you were told?"
"For the same reason you can't seem to realize I'm not here to bow
down to your every whim."
She talks back to Bella, rats on Patrick, and now she sits here, defiantly
challenging me. It's infuriating. "You're wrong, Jordy. You're here because
of a scholarship. One that gets voted on by some very important people.
People that all of our families have ties to. You are here to bow down.
Maybe we should start your training right now."
My body reacts to our proximity and my threat, I shift away when I see
Noel heading towards us, climbing to my feet. "You can fall in line, or get
trampled over. The choice is yours, Jordanna."
"I'm never going to do what you want, so-" she shrugs as if daring me to
do my worse.
"Okay, Jordy, don't say I didn't warn you."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A sound startles me awake. I climb off the mattress and walk to my

bedroom door, listening for the source of the noise. Kassidy was
supposed to be spending the night out. Did she change her mind? A light
cascade across the living room floor, about hip height. Her door is still
open. If she was here, it would be closed. I step further into the room,
confused about why the door to the mini-fridge is open.
When I get closer, I see my yogurt is missing. I look to the right and see
the drawer where I keep my snacks is on top of the storage bin. My granola
bars and oatmeal are gone too, as are my dry and microwaveable meals. I
buy survival food to help save money on my meal plan and someone took it
all.
Shit. I just went shopping two days ago, to get enough to help me make
it through the month. If I do another grocery run, it'll throw my budget way
off. Shit, shit, shit. I do a mental count of how much money I have to work
with. If I eat cereal for breakfast and a simple sandwich for lunch, I can
survive on salads for dinner. Then I won't be cutting into my food account
too much. I know mom said she'd work it out, but I don't want her to worry.
Summer's sports dues and competition fees are astronomical, and that girl
seems to grow an inch taller every week.
I've survived three days with skipping breakfast and lunch altogether and
immediately realize my mistake when I agree to join Kassidy during peak
meal hours for dinner. I usually order something off the basic menu.
Tonight's specialty cuisine is anything but. There's no salad, unless I count
the calamari salad and poke bowl they're offering. It's surf and turf on
steroids around here, with one of the local chef's cooking the meal.
"Damn, I must've missed the memo about tonight," Kassidy says,
swiping through her phone.
"Me too." I agree, distracted by the numbers in my head. Even an à la
carte item is gonna severely deplete my meal account balance for the week.
"Jordanna, I can cover your meal."
"What? No. It's fine."
"It's not, and you missed the earlier fast plan options, because I asked
you to join me."
"Kassidy. I'm fine. Really." I insist, declining her offer. It’s bad enough
everyone knows I’m here on a scholarship. I don’t want to deal with what
they’ll say if I can’t pay for my own food.
We sit at a table on the edge of the room, with a perfect view of Logan
and his pals. His eyes scan the dining hall, looking bored until they settle on
me. He turns to say something to Bella, and she leans forward, looking over
at me, an icy glint in her eyes. Yeah, yeah. I know you'd rather I be miles
from here. I wish I were too.
I settle on the poke bowl and spicy tuna roll, my mouth watering when
it's set in front of me. Kassidy and I click our chopsticks together and I dig
in. The very first bite sets my tongue on fire. I know without looking it's
been heavily garnished with wasabi and sriracha. I grab my glass to douse
the flames, quickly dropping what's clearly salt water.
My body breaks out in a sweat, my eyes water, my ears burn, and my
head feels like it's about to explode. I stumble from my seat, tugging at my
collar as I make my way to the door. I narrowly avoid tripping over
someone’s foot, only to find myself pushed into the table where Satan's
spawns are sitting.
Two, three, four.. pairs of hands grab me, shoving me forward again. I'm
jostled back and forth until I finally make it outside. Tears sting my eyes as
I feel my jersey cling to me. Steak sauce and ketchup drip from my head
onto the collar. This was my dad's jersey. He wore it to every one of
Summer's games, saying it brought the team good luck. I wear it on her
game days too, even when I'm not in town. I desperately pray I can get the
stains out.
A hand snakes out to grab me, pulling me into the alcove between the
cafeteria and math building. "Don’t you know it's rude to run out on a
Michelin chef without sampling his cuisine?"
"It was inedible, but then something tells me you know that."
"Damn, that's too bad. I bet that set you back, forty bucks, and the
school doesn't give refunds. Hope you have something back at the dorm to
tide you over."
Bastard probably orchestrated this whole thing, starting with stealing
my food. I need to get to my room and get out of these clothes. The longer
the stain sets, the harder it will be to get out. "Why are you in my face,
Logan? What do you want?"
"Same thing I wanted yesterday, and the day before, and the day before.
It's time for you to get with the program, Jordy."
“How many times do I have to tell you my name's Jor-dan-na?”
"Your name will be whatever the fuck I call you. But, that outburst lets
me know you're not there yet. Think about how many days the human body
can go without food. Because I promise I can make it so that there's not an
affordable meal available to you for a lot longer than you can hold out, or
your food account can last."
He's right. Just three more days of forty-dollar meals and I'll have
exceeded my account balance for this month. The school rations their
portion out, instead of giving it all to me upfront.
"Damn, Bella must have a diamond studded vagina, to have you go
through all this trouble. Or does she feed your ego by telling you what a big
strong man you are?"
His eyes narrow as he steps closer. His hands go to his pants, opening
the button and unzipping his jeans. "How about I show you how big I am."
His dark chuckle causes bumps to break out on my arms. A tingle of
awareness slides down my back.
"Look at it, Jordy." I squeeze my eyes shut, averting my gaze. He grips
my hips, slamming me against him. "I'm not even hard yet. That's how you
start to determine how big I am."
I shift my hips, trying to get away, realizing my mistake at the exact
moment his hands flex on my ass. "The way you're moving, I think you
want me to take you right here."
 This is what he wanted. For me to fight, because he likes it. His hand
reaches between us, between my legs, grabbing me through my jeans. "Are
you wet for me, Jordy?"
"In your dreams."
"Nah. My dreams consist of you bound and gagged while I fuck you
hanging over the side of the bell tower."
He's moved his hand back to my side, dragging it from my waist to my
hip in an absentminded caress. It would be sweet and affectionate if Robbie
were doing it. Logan's no Robbie and sweet isn't in his makeup.
"What should I do with this thing in my pants, Jordy? Or better still,
what should I make you do with it, since you woke it up?"
He flexes his hips against me, a swath of air floats across my now
exposed stomach. A shrill whistle comes from the left of us. It’s some type
of alert. I dart around him when he steps away, straightening his clothes.
His hand snakes out to grab my hair, pulling it so hard, I'm sure a few
strands have ripped out from the roots.
"Clock's ticking Jordy." He releases me with a shove, and I wind up on
my knees in front of him like he wants. I climb to my feet, on high alert,
wondering when and where the next person is going to lash out, as I make
my way to the dorm.

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 CHAPTER NINETEEN

W e're on day three of messing with Jordy’s food budget. Hal and
Frankie used Kassidy's key to clean out her stash, and have been
doing a sweep of the room to make sure there aren't any extras lying
around. She puts up a good front; I doubt her roommate even knows just
how precarious her account balance is. She's at the register swiping her
meal card, to pay for the half serving of Waygu Ribeye and Foie Gras
Cheesesteak on her plate.
Bella's sitting beside me at our table, in her usual bitchy mood. "She's
not going down so easy, Logan."
"Yeah. I can see that." Jordanna was Bella's personal pet project until
sushi night in the cafeteria where she announced it was open season on her.
"You've already upped the intensity, by unleashing the entire student body
against her."
I study the girl who goes to sit in the corner, content with her half order
of food and sketchbook in her hand. She eats alone most of the time, even
though I know she and Kassidy are on good terms. "She doesn't seem to
care whether or not she has any friends here."
Tabitha blows on her coffee before taking a sip. "It's probably because
it's temporary."
I turn my head slightly, still keeping Jordanna in view. "What is?"
"Her being here. The art auction and symposium is doubling as her
submission for a scholarship she's working on to transfer back to her old
school. That's why she was mad enough to clap back after Bella destroyed
her painting. She’s got it good back there. Boyfriend, friends, and notoriety.
Rumor around the galleries is she's a shoo-in to win the highest bid at the
end of semester auction, so, why should she care if a few assholes don't like
her for speaking her truth?"
I never ask Tabitha how she gets her information, but she always seems
to know something I don't, which keeps me on my toes. It's another reason I
like her best of all. I've already heard from Bella about Jordanna having a
boyfriend, but her intel is usually vague and exaggerated to get the outcome
she wants. "How serious is the boyfriend?"
"There's likely a china pattern in their future. Going back to her old life
is all she cares about." That simple phrase tells me everything I need to
know.
"Then that's how we break her. We take that away from her."
Frankie shifts closer, making room for Hal to sit beside Tabitha. I watch
her threaten to stab him with a fork when he leans in to steal an air fried
chip off her plate. "How?" She asks, taking a bite and chewing loudly in his
ear.
"By giving her something else to love."
"You?" Hal snorts.
"My dick. But for her, it'll be the same thing."
Frankie shakes his head. "She's a virgin man, and prideful, and thanks to
the hell we've been putting her through, she hates us. That's a lot of negative
equity to overcome, and you're not used to putting in any effort to get laid.
The ass just climbs into your lap and sucks you off in public. This one will
want roses and wine and dinners and all that dating shit. There's no way
you're gonna be able to turn this boat around."
"I don't do that romance shit because I don't want to. Not because I'm
incapable of it. Besides, she won’t be all that hard to crack. She's here,
lonely, away from everything she knows and loves. By now she's got to be
feeling vulnerable. A little kindness goes a long way, and her untouched ass
is ripe for the taking."
Bella's face stretches into a twisted grin. "Sounds like we need to draw
up some paperwork," she says, putting me on record for taking her bet.
Frankie looks nervous, probably thinking about his situation with
Destiny. "You really think you can do this?"
"Frankie, when I'm done with Jordanna Felding she'll be just like every
other piece of ass on campus. Begging me to fuck her any time and
anyplace and won't give a shit who sees it."
 We all raise our glasses. “Audentis Fortuna Iuvat.”

I'm not known for wasting time, so our very next class, my active
participation in Jordanna's demise begins. I hide my devious grin, slipping
smoothly into the seat beside her.
"Here we go again." She mumbles under her breath. Her gaze darts left
as if she's expecting Carson to crash our little party again. If he does, he
won't be as handsy as he was the last time. I'll make sure of it.
She's flapping her pen against her hand. I muffle a chuckle when it slips
loose, somersaulting by me before landing on the floor. I reach down to
retrieve it, and hold it between us. "Nervous?"
She refuses to reach across the space to take it out of my hand, eyeing
me like I'm offering her a poisoned apple. The mistrust is strong with this
one. I place the pen on her desk and return to taking notes on the lecture.
Jordanna ignores me the rest of the class and walks to the opposite side
of the aisle to leave. Bella's smirking at me when I reach the front of the
room. "Cinderella’s rushing off and it's not even midnight. Doesn't bode
well for a quick resolution of our bet."
"I'd be disappointed if sitting next to her was enough to make the ice
around her heart melt. Besides, did you expect her to hang around after
class knowing you're still out for blood?" I'll have another chance to get
Jordy to warm up to me in our art class.

We've been seat mates for weeks, but the truth is, I never took the time to
really look at her. I'm usually too busy looking at her work and finding
ways to irritate Noel.
Today I see her, accessing her with my critical eye, the way I would a
girl I'm interested in. She shifts in her seat when she notices me looking.
Most girls would be a blushing, giggling mess, having me this close to
them. Jordanna's features are pinched into a permanent scowl of disgust.
This will make the chase much more satisfying. Easy conquests bore the
shit out of me once I blow my load.
 "I deserved that asshole comment, the other day, and it's probably a little
too late, but I'm sorry for what I said about your painting." Her hand stills
against the canvas.
"You're sorry, alright."
"You should know, my tirades had nothing to do with you, and
everything to do with Noel."
"I find that hard to believe considering every time I see you, you're
either insulting me, threatening me, or assaulting me." She lowers her
pencil. "Is that no longer enough? Tell me Logan, what angle are you
playing now?"
We work in silence for a few more minutes before I try to engage her in
conversation again. Chicks like it when guys share their feelings. I know
I'm larger than life and Jordanna wants to cut me down to size. I pretend to
humble myself, to make myself seem more human.
"Noel and I have history, and I'm sure you can tell we don't always see
eye to eye when it comes to art."
She scratches her head with her pencil and continues to ignore me. "I'm
not making excuses for what I've said about your work. But I'm an artist
too, and I know that criticism should be constructive. The things I've said
were cruel, and I apologize if it affected your creative process."
I leave my apology hanging between us, and even though she doesn’t
acknowledge it, I know she was listening to what I said.

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 CHAPTER TWENTY

I don't know what possessed Logan to sit beside me in Poly-Sci or to

apologize in our art class. The fact that he did both of those things has
me on edge. After the shit he and his friends pulled with my painting, the
private and public messages I'm getting on Prospectus, and the number of
times he's cornered me, I'd be a fool to let my guard down. They're probably
plotting some other stunt to make sure I keep my mouth closed about what
they did.
Kassidy showed me the video they took when we were in the lecture
hall. From the camera angle, it looked like Hal and Frankie were kissing my
neck, while Logan was humping me. The voice over didn't help.
I endured my discomfort of being seated next to him, hyperaware of the
looks we were getting. When my pen flew out of my hand and landed by his
foot, I decided to leave it there. There was no way I was bending over. They
already have enough ammunition to justify their stupid slut coughs and
sucking noises. No need to give them more material to work with.
After dealing with the expensive meal options in the cafeteria for a
week, I'm living off of protein bars and wheat toast for breakfast to help
keep my meal costs down. They finally flipped back to the regular menu,
but I have to offset the money they forced me to spend. I swipe my ID and
scan the dining hall for a seat away from the noise.
"Uh, hum." I know who's behind, without having to turn around. Bella
is gorgeous, but whenever she clears her throat, it reminds me of a diesel
engine pulling into a truck stop. It's obnoxiously loud and hard to ignore,
but I do my best to pretend she's not here.
 "Charity, I know you hear me talking to you."
I turn to face her, holding my nose. "I didn't, especially since that's not
my name, but as soon as you opened your mouth I smelled you. I think it
may be the Panini you were eating. They went a little heavy on the garlic."
Logan walks over to us, slips his arm around Bella's shoulder and pulls
her away. She tosses a glare at me over her shoulder before they disappear
on the other side of the room. I decide to eat what I can only loosely
describe as my meal on my way to class. I don't want to stick around to see
what new form of harassment the beautiful people might come up with.

It's been three days. Three days since the last time anyone from the BP's
inner circle came up to me to say anything. Three days since the last post
about my ability to multi-task with men was ranked as the most viewed post
on the Prospectus app. Three days since any of textbooks have come up
missing. I usually find them in a bush behind the dorm with sticky condoms
filled with whipped cream or butter on top of them. Small mercies that they
didn’t use actual semen.
Logan and his friends enter the room and once again, he bypasses his
usual seat and sits next to me. Okay, this is it. They've had time to come up
with something truly heinous, and this is when they spring it on me. I'm on
alert, ready to defend myself if needed. There's no way in hell I'm letting
Logan or any of his perverted friends put their hands on me again.
Hal takes the other seat next to me, sandwiching me between them. My
knee bounces under the table, my thumb clicks the top of my pen over and
over again. I flinch at the sudden movement at my right, sending my
notebook careening to the floor.
There's no way I can reach it without crawling under the table. Yeah,
that ain't happening with Hal and Logan sitting next to me. Logan slips
from his seat, getting down on one knee like prince fucking charming and
offers my book to me, head bowed like he's presenting a pure and virtuous
sacrifice.
People are watching, phones are out, and I'm embarrassed that once
again I'm the center of attention. "What are you doing?"
"Hoping this offering will raise my esteem in your eyes.”
 "It won't." I hiss. "Now get up, before the professor sees you."
"He won't care."
Right. Of course. Logan’s one of the elite. The beautiful people. He
could probably take a nap naked on the professor's desk, in the middle of a
midterm, and not get any shit for it.
"I don't know what game you're playing at Logan, but whatever it is,
leave me out of it."
"It's a game of friendship."
"Never heard of it. So deal me out, I'll probably suck at it."
His hands touch my thighs, my stomach twists into a ball, waiting for
the bruising grip that's sure to follow. "The rules are simple." He says,
massaging my calves. "You be my friend."
"And?"
"And that's it."
It's simple. Too simple. I'm so distracted looking for another angle, an
opening for him to use to humiliate me that I don't address the other thing
he's doing. Touching me. "I'm sorry. What the hell would I get out of letting
you call me your friend?"
"All the perks that come with being in my circle."
"Meaning, you guys will be around all the time making sure I don't
squeal? How is that different from now?"
"If you're my friend, you'll get some breathing room. Because I trust my
friends."
His hands are higher and I force myself not to squeeze my thighs
together against the sudden onslaught of heat I'm feeling between them. "I
don't believe for one second that you trust anyone, Logan McKay."
His brows dart up, his hands recede, and just as quickly as he got down
on the floor; he's back in his chair. "What's your answer, Jordy?" He asks,
placing a hand on my arm to stop me from writing what the teacher is
saying.
"I'll pass."
His fingers flex against my arm, in the punishing grip I've come to
expect from him. "Wrong answer."

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 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

H e's changed up tactics and I've been dodging what has turned into
stalker behavior for a week. I thought I'd get a reprieve, because I
heard something about a meetup with him and his friends at some secret
location called The Rift, but I was wrong, because here he is, in my room.
Again.
My meal account recharged, and I've done another grocery run, but that
does nothing to relieve my worry about my food insecurity. As often as he's
here now, you'd think he didn't have a dorm room of his own to chill in.
One that I hear is a single with a full kitchen. A look to the left tells me
Kassidy's not back yet. How are the two of them even friends?
"You know, if you ask, I'm sure Kassidy wouldn't mind picking up extra
groceries for you to keep in your room." I snatch my yogurt from his hand.
"So you don't have to eat mine."
"That's just it, Jordy. Yours…," His eyes drop to my legs. "Is the only
one I want to eat, right now."
I try not to react to, but Logan's words; good, bad, and inappropriate,
have a way of eliciting a response from me. I dig my nails into my palms to
prevent myself from grabbing a pillow to throw at him.
He holds the spoon out to me. "There's still some on here. You wanna
suck it the rest of the way off?"
I'm feeling another one of those hot flashes I've been getting lately
whenever he comes around. What the fuck is wrong with me? He and his
friends have been making my life hell since the moment we met, so why am
I reacting to these innuendos? Plus, Robbie is the guy that I'm hot for. He's
the biggest reason. I'm dating Robbie and my passions burn for him.
Still, for some reason, my eyes drift to Logan. Taking him in.
"It's okay to like me, you know."
"Thanks for the permission, but you don't need to worry about that
happening."
"Why not?"
"I damn near burned through my commissary budget because your
minions stole my food from my room and somehow you arranged for the
cafeteria to serve the most expensive meals money can buy. You've been
talking shit about me with your friends and accosting me for weeks, and
let's not forget the video on Prospectus where everyone swears I let you and
your buddies pull a train on me, is the reason I've got the entire goddamn
campus slut shaming me, and you have the nerve to ask why not?"
"I never actually talked shit about you. I just sat there and listened to
them do it."
"That's just as bad."
"So let me get this straight. You don't like me and you’re refusing my
offer of friendship because I didn't gossip about you, or tell anyone that the
obviously doctored video on Prospectus was a fake, and because the
cafeteria gave us the opportunity to experience five-star cuisine at a
discounted price?"
"Sounds about right."
He licks the remaining yogurt off the spoon, swirling his tongue around
it to catch every last wisp. When he's done, his lips stretch into a grin. He
leaves without comment, and I worry that I've stepped into a snare I didn't
know existed.

Noel squeezes my shoulders, rubbing them in comforting circles. "Relax

Jordanna. Let the tension out of your neck and shoulders, and let your
wrists, arm and hands free. This is art, and she's a model, not a great white
coming to snatch you into the deep."
Funny, because I certainly feel like I'm being ripped apart and drowning
in this class. I feel Logan's eyes on me and stiffen, waiting for his latest
attack. He's uncharacteristically quiet while Noel is talking and I will
myself to relax, trying to get my lines correct.
As it stands right now, I’m still working on the details I should have
mastered during the first week. As much as it pains me to say, I might need
some remedial help.

The studio’s quiet after hours and I’m using this time alone to work on my
class assignment without an audience present.
I scrub my hands across my face. Letting out my frustration in a soft
groan. No matter how many times I go over the lines of this painting, it still
looks like a kid drew it. Acrylics, watercolors, it doesn't matter. Right now,
paint and I don't mix. I set a new canvas on the easel and prepare to try
again. I dip the brush in the paint and pause. Who am I kidding? I pull my
sketchbook and pencils from my bag and rough out the outline of the
picture in front of me. Apples, boats, sunsets. People in the park. I can draw
them all with no problem. "Why am I suddenly having such trouble with the
human form?" I whisper to myself.
"Maybe, because you're not comfortable seeing the human form in its
natural state."
Logan crosses to the front of the class, picking up and discarding
paintings as he goes. "The comfort and pleasure of the eyes is what
translates to the stroke of the pencil or paint. If you don't enjoy what you're
seeing, whatever your vision is, will never materialize on the canvas."
"I enjoy seeing people. I like picking out the differences in their faces,
and hands and wardrobe. The colors of what I imagine their lives are made
up of excite me. It always has."
"That's safe, and you're talking about fully clothed people. This class
deals with open, honest, raw data."
He stands behind me, looking at my latest failed attempt. If he says it's
un-fuckable again, I may pour this dirty water on him. When he remains
quiet, the tension in my shoulders eases.
"You know…" He says putting me back on edge. "It's probably the
model."
"Huh?"
"You can't get the imagery or paint her, because, she's not the right
model for you to start with."
 "It's a life study class. A, she's beautiful, and it's not her fault, and B it's
sexist for you to blame the woman."
"I'm not faulting her, I'm saying she's the wrong model for you."
He doesn't wait for me to answer.
"Find a subject, you’re most familiar and comfortable with. Then move
on to someone else."
I'm still trying to get used to the fact that he didn't trash my work today,
and now here he is offering actual advice. I hazard a glance at him.
"If I were teaching this class, I'd suggest you try drawing yourself first."
"What?"
"Have someone take a picture of yourself, fully nude, and draw it."
I feel a nervous flip in my stomach. I try to play it off, scoffing at the
suggestion. "That's ridiculous."
"No, that's creative and artistic." He studies my face. "Does the idea of
doing that freak you out?"
"Having some stranger snap nudes of me? Hell yeah."
"It doesn't have to be a stranger." His face stretches into a wide grin. "I'll
do it."
I roll my eyes at him.
"Or have someone else, a best friend, a boyfriend, or fuck buddy do it.
Just make sure it’s someone who's seen you naked before." He’s still
looking at me and I know my face is beat red. "No one here that fits that
description, either, huh?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but my boyfriend is at my old
university, four hours away.”
"Trusting guy to let you come here alone."
"That's because I'm a trustworthy person."
"And you trust him to be away from you all this time? What happens
when he gets lonely and doesn't have your," He leans in to sniff me then
moves away. "Soft lavender and vanilla scent to bury his nose in? You must
be doing lots of Face Time and sexting, huh?"
"I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you."
He shrugs, unaffected by the bite in my voice. "You have a block
somewhere, Jordy. I think it's because you're not used to seeing and
experiencing sexuality. See there." He points to my cheek. "You're blushing
again and all I did was say the word. Human anatomy and art classes are
basic. Scientific. They're clinical. Sexuality is personal. It's intimate. You
have to get used to it, and stop shying away from it, before you can
appreciate it. Think about it. Are you nervous like this when you wash
yourself, or touch yourself?"
"I'm definitely not having this conversation with you."
"Fine, for the purpose of this exercise, stare in the mirror. Pick one
usually unseen body part and draw that."
It's a ludicrous suggestion, and I can’t be sure he wasn’t saying those
things to make fun of me, so why am I considering it? I need to change the
subject to something that doesn't leave room for him imaging me naked in
front of a mirror. Or for this weird little free association imagery my mind
has gone on to continue. Somehow I’ve wound up imagining him standing
behind me as I stand naked in front of a mirror.

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 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I can see Jordy's intrigued by my suggestion, even if she won’t admit it.
She's also scared as hell. Whoever the boyfriend is, is clearly not as
involved in her sexual awakening as he should be. He’s probably doing the
typical young adult thing and waiting a respectable time to get permission
to dirty her up. I wouldn't be passively waiting until she decides she’s ready.
I'd be seducing her towards my bed, one kiss and touch at a time. She won't
know what she likes or what she's willing to do until she tries it.
My advice might be unconventional, but it's good advice, and I've just
added another opportunity for her to see me as more than the jerk who
embarrassed her in class.
The silence stretches and she finally feels obligated to speak. "You're
not struggling in class, so why are you here after hours?"
I lift my hand with the supplies I'm holding. "I ran out of blue for the
project I'm working on."
"I’m surprised you’re even entering the art symposium. I thought you
were a journalism major."
So she's been looking into me. "What makes you think that?"
"You’re the editor of the paper, you name is synonymous with
publishing, and everyone knows who your dad is. Isn't that how being an
heir to a dynasty works? You follow in daddy's footsteps?"
"I have a job waiting for me after graduation. So, you're right, I'm
fortunate to have that opportunity in front of me. But-,"
"But what?" She leans forward, hanging on to my words, and I'm
careful not to give her too much of myself. If I do, she'll see it as a
weakness. Girls like her want to work for it. To feel like they're pulling me
in, instead of the other way around. "But, what about you? Aren't you a
finance major, because it's the safe, logical, stable job?"
"I like numbers, so I picked a major that will give me a stable future,
yes. What's wrong with that?"
I shrug, half sad, half confirming that safe and logical is the best choice.
"You have a different opinion?"
"I have this life, this future thrust upon me, and I didn't get a vote. I'm
not complaining mind you." I hold up the paint again. "But sometimes I
find myself wondering if it isn't better to follow our passion."
Her eyes widen, and I can see that she's thinking about her passion. She
might like numbers, but that isn't it. Neither is the boyfriend that she's not
thinking about in this moment.
Or so I think until she snorts and laughs at me. "Pu-leeze. Do those
green eyes and tortured artist rants work? Like ever? God, how many girls
have you cornered here or anywhere in the middle of the night pretending to
be forced into servitude and forego your one true desire, because daddy
doesn't understand your need to follow your own path?"
I'm staring at her, curious about the sudden bout of indignation she's
shown, but I’m also amused. I can see a glimpse of the intrepid reporter, or
is it the number cruncher, that found out daddy dearest was a multi-billion
dollar fraud.
"It wasn't a line, it's how I feel sometimes, and not a feeling I share
indiscriminately with others." I turn towards the door, leaving her with one
thought. "If I'd have known a moment of transparency with you would have
been met with dismissive humor, I wouldn't have shared."

Jordy’s eyes are on me as she climbs the stairs towards her seat. She stops
in front of me, hugging her sketchpad to her chest. I unpack my bag, setting
my pen and laptop in front of me.
The rushed apology falls from her lips, catching me off guard. "I'm
sorry."
I glance at her before returning to what I was doing.
 "I know you were trying to help the other night, and I was rude. I'm sure
you can tell I'm uncomfortable talking about certain things, and I'm hyper
sensitive about my work. I've never painted a naked body before, and I'm
the only student whose hand the teacher has to hold. Literally. It's a little
embarrassing."
"Noel's not giving you extra attention because your work is bad, Jordy."
She gives me a look that says I'm full of shit. "Okay, okay. It lacks realism,
as I've said on several occasions, but you'll get there. He’s giving you extra
attention, because he has a weakness for female undergrads. Especially ones
that look like you."
She ignores my compliment, pretending to be interested in the students
walking into the room. If she's apologizing to me, then that means she's at
least considering I might not be the big bad wolf she imagined. I am, but
my plan won't work if I can't make her forget all about that. I flash her a
smile, gifting her with a dimple. "So now that I forgive you, do you forgive
me for being a jerk before?"
"Nope."
"Is forgiveness forthcoming after an acceptable amount of groveling
happens?"
"Not likely."
"What if I add a pretty, please with a cherry top?"
She shakes her head at me. "I doubt people like you settle for something
as pedestrian as cherries."
I lift one shoulder. "I'd offer a diamond tennis bracelet, but I imagine
you'd find that insulting."
"I would."
She takes a seat in the row behind me. I turn around and wink, "by the
way, I love cherries." Her cheeks darken to half a shade lighter than a
maraschino. It's adorable how easily she blushes.
The low-pitched whistle in my ear breaks through the jumbled thoughts in
my head. I'm spacing out on the first phone call I've had with Robbie this
week. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"
"I was asking how classes were going. The last time we talked, you
were looking into dropping or changing your life study class. Something
about the asshole classmate that was unnecessarily cruel with his critique of
your work."
That was two weeks, an apology and a very unsettling middle of the
evening talk with Logan, ago.
"So did you drop it?"
"I thought you told me to stick it out, and that peer review is a major
part of life, and that if I can't handle criticism from people who don't matter,
I'd never be able to handle seeing it in writing from a real critic."
"I did, but then I thought about it. You've never had someone telling you
they hated your work before. Yes, you need a tougher skin, but this guy
sounds like he crossed the line. It was borderline harassment."
Funny, I didn't feel harassed in the studio that night. Not even after he
told me to pose nude for myself. I felt, desired? No, that can't be the right
emotion. I desire the guy on the phone who's telling me all the encouraging
things I need to hear. He's right. There's a way to critique without being
cruel, and Logan was cruel all those other times in class. I could never be
friends with someone like that. And even though I apologized for how I
reacted during his moment of vulnerability, I can't be completely certain it
wasn't an act. He and his friends seem to take pleasure in toying with
anyone that's not a part of their crowd. Didn't I just hear his boy Frankie
telling Sonia from our Poly-Sci class that he felt like he could really be
himself around her? Logan's moment of honesty was just a poorly
plagiarized variation of the same line.
"I don't think I'll be reporting him. I decided to stay in the class and
ignore him."
"Okay." Robbie says, withdrawing his earlier recommendation. "That's a
mature approach. We grow and stretch in the middle of adversity, and what
do we say about people that get their thrills off of causing misery to
others?"
We say in unison. "Don't give them that power."
Our conversation turns to how Robbie's doing in school and what
Tiffany and Marina have been up to in my absence. I really miss those guys.
They understand me and supported me through the difficult decision to
report step-disaster. None of us could have foreseen the ripple effect doing
the right thing would cause.
Summer asked if I would have still published my story, knowing this is
where it would lead. I can't imagine hiding something like this, and even
knowing that ultimately the thief was the person living in our home, I
would do the same. It's better to be displaced and poor, then to live in
luxury at someone else's expense.
Robbie's voice drops to a seductive whisper. "I miss you Jordanna."
Warmth spreads through my belly, and I sigh into the phone. "I miss you
too. You're still coming up next weekend, right?"
We pre-scheduled our visits for this semester, agreeing to split the cost
of travel. He'll come here and then I'll go there. This will be our first visit.
He'll be in town on Friday by the time my last class ends, and after a quick
tour on campus, we’re heading to the hotel for dinner. I've been pinching
my pennies, foregoing my craving for my weekly caramel macchiato, so we
could live it up a little.
"I have our whole itinerary planned." I name the places I'd like to show
him and places where we can eat.
He chuckles into the phone. "That sounds great, but I’m more interested
in hearing from what time to what time, we’ll be alone in the hotel room,
together?"
"I have that time planned too. It comes at the end of everything else
when it's time to go to sleep."
"Sleep? What happens if I'm not tired? Is there something planned for
that too?"
 "A scrabble rematch." I giggle into the phone. He always demands a
rematch. My vocabulary outmatches his, because I’ve spent a lot of time
with my nose buried in a thesaurus.
"Sounds like a plan."
This is why we've been together for so long. He's never tried to pressure
me into anything. I was a bit of a late bloomer, so it's taken me a while to
get comfortable with the idea of dating and the things that go with it. I
guess that's also the reason naked people freak me out. Logan was right. I
can't paint, draw, or sketch it, because I feel panicky looking at it. He said
start with someone that I'm comfortable around. Robbie and I are going to
sleep together eventually, and I trust him completely. Maybe I could have
him take pictures for me.

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 CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

T he professor concluded his last lecture by assigning our first project.

He was so excited about it too, waving the sign-up sheet in his hand
like a surrender flag. It's a collaborative effort and was the perfect excuse
for getting Jordanna to spend time with me.
I stayed seated at the end of the class and waited. The girls flat out
ignored her, and every time a guy approached her, I gave a small shake of
my head. The last team paired off leaving the two of us as outliers, which
means we were teamed up by default.
She looked like she was hoping the floor would swallow her whole
when I approached her to set up a time to talk about the project. She barely
said three words during the first hour, her attention stuck on her phone. I
finally told her the sooner she gave her input, the sooner she could be away
from me. That was all the motivation she needed to pull her weight.
Today, she’s fidgeting in her seat and looking at the clock like she has
somewhere else to be. She's sitting in the front, safely tucked against the
wall. I feel like if the other student's in our art class weren't attached to the
current seating arrangement, she'd go out of her to avoid sitting next to me
there too.
I know I touched a nerve, making her confront the truth about being
afraid of sensuality and her own body. But I'm not sorry for what I said. I
really was trying to help. I see Bella staring at me. She gives me a twisted
smile and taps her watch. Time is running out.
It's been two weeks since we drew up our contract and she hasn't seen
any progress. Telling her not to rush things won't do any good. Bella
operates on her own speed and when things aren't evolving quickly enough,
she has no problem nudging them along, often with disastrous results for
whoever she's toying with. And it's not always clear if Bella is toying with
the hunter or the prey.
Jordanna’s practically bouncing in her seat. Her eyes gleam like a kid on
their birthday or Christmas. Now what could little miss goody have planned
for this weekend that has her spun up like this? She's wearing the look of a
girl with a very juicy secret. One that I'd like to know.
Class ends and she dashes out the door. “Catch up with you guys later,"
I call out to Hal. I keep a respectable distance from my prey so she doesn't
realize she's being followed. She rushes to the dorms, faster than she's ever
done before and is already in the elevator ascending to her floor when I
reach the front desk.
Excited to be in the dorms can only mean one thing. Somebody's
coming to visit. I scan the visitor log to see what time mommy dearest
checked in. Next to Jordy's room number is a name that doesn’t sound very
maternal. Robert Langston. That must be the long distance boyfriend. I
thought this was going to be another boring weekend on campus, but things
just got interesting.
The seduction was always going to be a problem with this guy in the
picture. Now is the perfect time to plant the seeds to get rid of him. A half
ass apology floats through my head. Nothing personal, Robbie, but I never
lose a bet.
I send out two texts. The first to Kassidy to find out where the out-of-
town visitor will be laying his head. The second to the gossip chain to let
everyone know about the exclusive, keep it quiet party, that's happening at
this very dorm.
The news travels quickly and by five the music is already cranked up,
with the room doors open. People spill out into the halls, over the stairs, and
crowd the lounge. Jordy’s giving the boyfriend a tour of campus that should
end any moment now. I have my spies on the lookout for when they get
closer to the dorm.
My phone dings, alerting me they're five minutes out. I grimace at the
picture of them holding hands and smiling stupidly at each other. I should
feel bad about what I'm about to do to the happy couple, but I don't.
I navigate through the crowd towards room 521 which is party central
for the time being, and make myself comfortable on the couch. There's no
door squeaking open to alert me of their arrival, but the sharp intake of
breath is all I need.
I sip my beer and clap Hal on the back as he tries to suck the cherry out
of a jello slice on some chick's stomach. The glob keeps wiggling, and she
keeps giggling, making it slip lower. Another few inches and his face is
gonna be in her pussy, and that might get messy, since I'm sure she sprayed
cool whip down there.
"Jordanna, what's going on?" The boyfriend asks behind me.
"That's what I'd like to know." She steps around the couch, calling for
Kassidy. I turn, giving a welcoming smile to the newcomers. "Jordy, hey.
Welcome home."
I thrust a beer at her. She refuses to take it, asking instead, "Where's
Kassidy?"
I lift a shoulder and hook my thumb towards the door. "Around here
somewhere."
"If she's not here, why are you in my room?"
"We wanted to hang and, well, you know how it is. Can't keep a good
party down." I eye the guy still gawking at us from the door. "Jordy, don't
be rude. Who's your friend?" I wave him over. "Come on in, there's plenty
of room and you guys are just in time to see Hal lose this round."
"Fuck you Logan, I got this." Hal says from his perch between the girl's
legs.
"Dude, you don't got this. Frankie, shit even Tabitha, would have had
that cherry by now."
I check out Robbie over my shoulder. "You want next? There's a whole
cooler of jello shots in the bedroom on the right. Grab one, pick a girl and
go diving."
Jordanna's eyes widen, because her room is the one on the right. "I need
to find Kassidy," she huffs, shoving by me on her way back into the hall.
That's exactly what I was hoping she'd do. I could use a few minutes
alone with the man of the hour. I stretch out my hand. "So, you must be
Rodney."
"Robbie."
"Right. Robbie. The cousin?"
"Boyfriend."
I smack him on the back. "Just kidding man, yeah I know you're the
boyfriend. My girl talks about you all the time."
 "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Duh, I'm so caught up in this game, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm
Logan McKay."
A flash of recognition crosses his face. Ah, so he's heard of me.
Probably from Jordanna complaining about how badly we've treated her. He
hasn't tried to take a swing, so I'm guessing she left off the part where I felt
her tits. That's smart and useful.
"So, yeah. Like I was saying. She talks about you all the time. I have to
put her on phone restriction when we're working on our paper, otherwise
we'd never get any work done."
His ears perk up, though he pretends not to be bothered by it. Okay,
time to drop another nugget. "She's really talented, that girlfriend of yours,
and dedicated to painting. The other night we were over in the art studio
working on her class assignment. She's determined to get it right. I had to
dial security and let them know not to lock the building, because I thought
we were gonna pull an all nighter."
"The two of you were in there, alone, after hours?" He asks, the doubt
and confusion evident in his voice.
"Oh yeah. The faculty is good about things like that for creative types,
because you never know when inspiration is gonna strike. We just phone the
security desk and let them know we're there and then call them again to tell
them to lock up. I can't tell you how many nights some of us have just
crashed there on a tarp in the back and woken up in the middle of the night
to paint some more. You just wait, Jordy's bound to have a few of those
nights too."
"So it was a bunch of you there that night?"
"Nah. It was just me and Jordy. Things aren't that intense for everyone
else yet. Like I said, she's a perfectionist when it comes to her art." My
phone dings, letting me know she’s heading back this way. I point to
Robbie’s empty hand. "Lemme go get you a drink."
I couldn't find Kassidy anywhere on this floor or the one below us, and I
dared not venture anywhere else, with all these people hanging around.
When I make it back to my room, I can tell something's wrong. I rush over
to Robbie. Dear god, if someone broke something.
"Hey, what's happened?"
"I thought you told me you spend most of your nights at the library, the
coffee shop or at the dorms."
Okay, so none of Logan's drunken groupies have destroyed any
property. That’s comforting to know. "I do."
"Well, that's not what that guy Logan said. According to him, you've
been spending late nights together in the painting studio."
"Not that late, and I wasn't with him. He showed up while I was there."
"We agreed you'd stay away from him, Jordanna." He points to the
crowd in my living room. "But this isn't staying away, and now I find out
you're working on a paper together."
"The teacher paired us up. What was I supposed to do? Tell him I was
rejecting his choice for my partner because he and his friends are assholes?
I'm not taking an F and messing up my GPA for that."
He backs off a little. "No, geez Jordanna, of course, that's not what I
meant, it's just… Are you sure there were no other options?"
"I'm sure that not a single person in class asked me to work with them,
so he's who I ended up with."
I slip my arms around his neck. This isn't how we're supposed to be
spending our evening. "It'll be fine. I told you, Logan hasn't said anything
else since that day."
 I can tell there's still something troubling him. "What else do we need to
resolve this so we can go back to having a good time?"
Robbie gestures towards the hall. "Is it always like this? I thought an
upscale school would be less animal house."
"College students are the same, this is just a different location and a
higher caliber of booze and snacks." It's safer not to mention what happens
at the off-campus parties. He might dis-enroll me himself.
He can't help but smile at my joke. It's what I do, find humorous ways
to deflect tension between us. Because, even though I love following clues
and getting to the truth in a story, I hate conflict. "That's better." I head
towards my room. "We can get out of here, just as soon as I grab my bag."
"Sounds like a plan."
I'm glad I packed last night. I snatch my bag off the bed and rush back
to the living room. My plan is to get Robbie out of the dorm before anyone
else starts running their mouth about my life on campus. We press through
the throngs of bodies, getting separated over and over again. I keep my head
down and avoid making eye contact. The last thing I need is for a drunken
frat boy to think I'm interested in playing one of their god awful party
games.
A body steps in our path, blocking our exit. "Hey. You're not leaving
already, are you?" Logan holds out a beer that I'm sure my boyfriend
shouldn't drink. I've been to enough parties to know they pass the bottles
around. Who knows whose lips were on it last? I ignore the unwelcome
thought that I would drink from it, if it were Logan's lips that touched it
last.
Robbie grabs my hand. "We are. This crowd isn't really our scene."
Logan looks confused that someone would dare dip out on his rager.
"What? You’re kidding, right? Jordy usually has a great time at these things.
I mean sure, sometimes things get a little crazy, but she always handles
herself like a pro. We have a good time, right partner?"
He's looking at me like I'm supposed to agree, and Robbie's looking at
me like I'd better say he's full of shit. The trouble is, they're both right. This
isn't usually my scene, but I have a fun when the beautiful people aren't
trying to rope me in on their shit.
Logan continues, ignoring the awkward silence that's descended in the
halls. "Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Jordy hates hanging with us, and she's
just too nice to say so." He looks at me just shy of a second too long and
nods, "Yeah, let's go with that." His sarcasm doesn't go unnoticed.
Robbie tugs my hand, pulling me towards the stairs, Logan's voice calls
out, "You two crazy kids have fun."
I think it goes without saying that we have wildly different definitions
for the word fun. Robbie's back to sulking by the time we reach the hotel. I
order room service and turn on the television. "Did you want to watch a
movie or something?"
"What did he mean?"
"What did who mean?" I pretend to be engrossed in the viewer’s guide.
I know exactly who he's talking about, but maybe if I feign ignorance we
won't have to talk about him anymore tonight. Or ever again.
"He's even got a cute nickname for you. Jordy."
Well, that didn't work. "If you're talking about Logan, he was being an
ass like always and finding ways to amuse himself."
"Yeah, but I notice you didn't correct him. I always thought you hated
nicknames."
"I do. I take pride in being named after the great-grandfather and great
aunt I never got to meet." My mom's grandfather Grandpa Jordan and my
mother's favorite aunt Anna.
Summer is the maiden name off a branch of my dad’s family tree that no
longer exists, and my mother's named after her great, great, great, great
grandmother. All of our names have significance to our family. And even
though mom hasn't spoken to anyone in dad's family in years, I like that we
have a link to them.
"You know, I'm really not in the mood to get into another debate about
naming conventions and social significance. I'd like to save it for my Poly-
Sci or Economics class, if you don't mind."
"I'm just saying, be consistent, if you don't want your old friends giving
you a nickname, you shouldn't let these spoiled rich kids get away with it
either. Don't bow down to the dollar. Demand respect."
"You're right, Robbie. And if he does it again, I'll put him in his place,
like I do every other time. So can we drop it?"

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 CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

J ordanna spent the weekend out, and I had to wait until today to see if
she's sporting that freshly deflowered look. Oh, let me tell you, there is
a look, and it's visible in the way someone carries themselves. Men
with an extra swagger, women with a greater air of confidence.
She's late to class this morning, and strolls in, books clutched tight to
her chest, head down. That is definitely not the look of someone feeling
empowered or in the middle of a sexual awakening. It looks like my plan
worked, and the long suffering boyfriend failed to seal the deal once again.
I won't make the same mistake.
I point to the chair beside me. "Saved it for you."
"You didn't."
"No, I really did. Everyone else wanted to sit here, and I told them I
reserved it for my research partner. That's you, since I know you prefer to
be in the middle of all the action." I hand her the topic outline I completed
last night. "Now tell me I did good."
She looks at the paper and sits beside me with a soft chuckle. "You did
okay." I take the paper she's holding out to me in return. So no sex and she
was doing homework? Damn, this guy is really making it easy to hate him.
But, I need to play the role of the nice guy, or else what's the point in her
choosing me over him? Which means, I'm apologizing for shit I'm not really
sorry for, again.
I wait until Mr. Tucker has his back to us. "I hope the boyfriend didn't
take offense to me teasing him Friday night."
"Is that what you call what you were doing?"
 "Come on Jordanna, how was I supposed to know you're not allowed to
go out and party and shit?"
"I'm not twelve. Robbie's my boyfriend, not my parole officer or father.
I don't need permission to hang out with my friends."
"So we're friends?"
"I wasn't talking about you."
"Fair enough Jordy, fair enough."
"Get it through your head, I don't respond to nicknames."
She'll respond to this one, and any other one I call her when she's
surfing my dick. "I noticed, but this one fits you."
She's not convinced. "I wouldn't call you Jordan, because I'd
immediately think of MJ, arguably the greatest basketball player of all
times. Your name is unique, and any derivative of it should be too. Besides,
I can't very well call you pretty Jordanna all the time, so Jordy, works."
She tucks her head, but I can see her lips twitch. Compliment for the
win.
"Shh." She scolds without any heat behind it. "I'm trying to hear the
lecture."
"Whatever you say, Jordy."

I'm standing up against the wall, wondering if anyone besides me ever asks
themselves what's the point of it all. Every weekend it's the same old thing.
Party, meaningless hookups, hangovers, rinse and repeat. Kassidy and
Jordanna showed up about an hour ago, but the rest of the attendees should
already have enough drinks in their systems to start the first round of
games.
It's rare that I play anymore, but I've been on edge since she spent the
weekend with the boyfriend. I'm fairly certain nothing happened between
them, but I also don't sense that there's a wedge there yet. I need to shake
things up. A quick round of truth or dare should give me something to work
with.
The first few rounds are easy, designed for laughs. The game won't kick
up in intensity until Bella wants it to. Which, judging by the look of
boredom on her face, will be any minute now.
 Kassidy has to make out with Frankie. No hardship there, they've
swapped spit plenty of times. Olivia has to flash her tits. Anyone who's ever
been to one of these parties has already seen what they look like. Those
who select truth have to admit to a lie, they've told or confess how far
they've gone with whichever rando they were drunk enough to take home in
previous weeks.
Jordanna's on the couch between Kassidy and Tabitha. I take a seat on
the opposite couch, watching, waiting for someone to crank up the volume
on the truths or the dares.
Olivia just went, so it's her turn to ask a truth or dare. "Jordanna." My
target shifts uncomfortably at the mention of her name. "How about you?"
"Oh, I'm not playing."
Kassidy nods, tipping her drink in her friend's direction. "Jordanna
never plays."
Olivia takes a drink and explains why there's no opting out. "You're on
this couch, so yes, you are playing."
"The question," Bella repeats as if we're all hard of hearing, "Is to tell us
the most interesting place you've ever given a blow job."
Kassidy tries to intervene. "Give it a rest, Bella. Not everyone is
interested in sharing who they've given their panties to."
"You're right. Little miss seat hogger, probably doesn't have any juicy
truths to share, and she definitely looks too sweet to handle anything we'd
come up with for a dare." She tells Olivia to pick another player.
Jordanna sits back, arms folded in defiance. "I'll take a dare."
"Fine, I dare you to put your hands in Hal's pants."
Jordanna looks at me for the first time this evening and quickly averts
her gaze. The dare is just Bella's way of starting shit, and I'm just here to
find out how far Jordy will go.
"I changed my mind. I'll take, truth."
"Too late to amend your answer. Hands in Hal's pants, or suffer the
consequences."
"Which are what?"
"A text blast telling everyone that we caught you with two guys at once,
taking it in every available hole. Oh wait, we've already done that."
Olivia laughs hysterically and Kassidy looks away, embarrassed. Right
now, nobody really believes that anything happened in the lecture hall,
because it's a poorly doctored video. But we've got a video editing team
that's incredible. With one phone call, we can make it look like the real deal.
That's what Bella is really saying. The threat is directed to Jordanna as
much as it is to me. With one text blast, no one will believe Jordanna was a
virgin, and I'd lose the bet. Bella's just that devious and will do whatever it
takes to win. She thinks she's got me in check, in one move. But I'm about
to take her pawn, Hal.
"Her shoving her hands in Hal's pants is a weak ass dare. Jordanna has a
boyfriend, and I'm sure she's felt a stiff one before."
"It's what I want her to do."
"Yeah, well, how's this. Jordanna, I dare you to take off your pants."
"What?" She stammers.
I keep my gaze steady on hers. "I'm willing to bet you've never stripped
in front of strangers before." My eyes slide over her clothes. "You strike me
as a coverup on the beach type of girl."
I give her a minute to process the dare. "Or are you too scared and
satisfied with being mediocre to do that?"
Her chin lifts, and for a second, I think she's going to do it. She leaves
the couch, heading for the back door. Very few people have ever walked
away from a Bella dare, and Jordanna doing it in public will only make
things worse for her.
Olivia holds up her phone. "So the text chain it is." She declares,
swiping her hand across her mouth, sloshing beer down her face. "Her
reputation will be ruined before she makes it back to the dorms."
I motion for someone to take Olivia's phone away and turn leaning in
close to the person starting the drama. "Lay off of her Bella." I say against
her ear.
"Why would I do that when I'm about to win the bet in record time?"
"We both know you won't be satisfied with this win. If it were this easy,
you'd have let someone else take the bet. But you begged me to get
involved. Now sit back and enjoy the show."
We break apart when Jordanna comes back with a bottle of water in one
hand, and her jeans in the other. She drops them in my lap, before returning
to her previous spot on the couch.
"Alright, Jordanna." Kassidy cheers.
She passes the dare on a technicality. I told her to take them off, but
didn't specify we had to see her do it. I hand them back and during the break
between rounds; she steps away to put them back on.
Frankie comes over with a deck of cards, yelling over the music, "Okay,
people, sit your asses down, if you're playing the next game."
He shuffles and Tabitha cuts the deck. "Okay folks, you know the rules.
You pick a card and you and the person with an evenly divisible multiple of
it goes off to the closet."
The cards pass through twice before Olivia and a sophomore from the
choir match up. They go off to the closet and come out when the buzzer
sounds. Her shirt’s hastily buttoned. He looks like he just climbed Everest.
Good for him.
We play two more rounds before I flip a ten and Jordanna flips a five.

The closed door muffles the music and laughter from the living room.
Logan turns on the flashlight from his phone so we can see. I can't believe
I'm trapped in a closet with this guy. I guess you're never too old to play
seven minutes in heaven. I say just that out loud.
"Seven minutes in heaven is for junior high. This is ten minutes in hell."
My back stiffens. Is he saying he hates that he's trapped in here with
me? "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means, we have ten minutes to seduce or annoy the hell out of each
other. If we're not feeling it, this is ten minutes trapped in a closet with
someone we don't like. If we're into each other, it's ten minutes trying to
make each other as horny as possible."
"Well, we're obviously the hating each other group, so prepare to be
annoyed."
 He continues to explain the game. "The person with the most hookups
at the end of the night is the winner, and I haven't lost a game yet."
"How do you prove you've won? The only people that really know what
happens are the ones trapped together. You could lie and no one would
know the difference."
"We work on the honor system, but the mussed hair, smeared lipstick
and disheveled clothes are usually good signs that someone got lucky."
"In ten minutes? That's a lot of animosity and hell freezing over for you
to overcome."
He steps closer, the light from the phone illuminating the smirk on his
face. "Challenge accepted."
The light snuffs out seconds before his lips crash against mine. I keep
my lips pressed tightly together. It's just a game, I tell myself. He knows I
have a boyfriend, and this kiss means nothing. He just wants to win.
None of that stops me from noticing the way he smells. Like earth and
rain. Sunshine and cedar and varnish. His hands go to my hip, pulling me
closer. He nibbles on my bottom lip and squeezes my ass. I gasp, his tongue
taking advantage, invading my mouth like a general plundering the land of
his enemy.
I try not to notice how his body presses against mine, or how it fills up
so much space that I feel impossibly smaller in the mid-size closet. His
hands are the anchor holding me to him. And even though my mind is
resisting, I can't control the shiver that runs down my spine when his hands
slip under my shirt, coming into contact with my skin.
My stomach clenches and I bite back a moan when his thumb grazes
across my taut nipple. It's a game and if the goal is to not feel anything, to
be unaffected by his presence and his touch, I'm losing, because I'm
enjoying the feeling of being kissed and touched like the entire world is
centered in this space and the penalty for not succumbing to these
sensations I’m feeling, is the end of life as we know it.
That's how he's treating this game and these ten minutes. Like the fate
of the world depends on me enjoying it, and heaven help me, Robbie
forgive me, but I am.
But I can't let him know that. I keep my hands to my side, balled into
fists. Because it's a game, and I'm just as competitive as the next person. If
winning means not reacting, I got this shit in the bag. The door flings open
and Logan pulls his mouth from mine. I blink to adjust to the change from
utter darkness to light.
Our bodies are angled so you can see both of our profiles. My hands are
still at my side, nails digging into my palms. I unclench them and push him
away. Stepping out of the closet, I scan everyone's faces, trying to get a read
on what they may be thinking.
Tabitha speaks first. "Well Logan, I guess, you've finally met a woman
immune to ten minutes of your charm."
I glance over my shoulder at Logan, whose look of confusion matches
everyone else's. He gives a slight shrug of his shoulder, smiling good-
naturedly. "Clearly I needed more than ten minutes to melt the ice around
her heart."
As insults go, that one was pretty tame. I bypass the couch, heading to
the table on the wall. I need a drink. He joins me at the makeshift bar, and
asks, "You really felt nothing?"
"I felt your tongue in my mouth and your hands on my skin, but if
you're asking did that lay the groundwork for you getting in my pants?" I
shake my head. "The answer is, no."
He mulls that over, and points to the cups in my hand. "Unaffected huh?
Then why do you need a second drink?”
“I don’t. This one’s for my roommate."

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 CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

I kissed the hell out of her and she's mixing drinks for Kassidy? Maybe
we got it wrong, and the reason nobody's plucked her cherry is that
we're working with the wrong equipment, and she just hasn't admitted it to
herself yet.
I study them sitting close together. Sometimes, Kassidy has an issue
with personal space, especially when she’s drinking. They're laughing and
talking, and Jordanna’s certainly not cringing or cowering from her touches.
Kassidy’s hand is rubbing her roommate’s shoulder and occasionally
brushes over her hair. At some point, she swings her leg over Jordy’s, who
makes no move to push it off. In fact, the hand she places on Kassidy's
thigh says she's comfortable with it being there.
Bella’s not known for cancelling bets, but if I can get her interested in
someone else, we can transfer the terms. No sense wasting my time on
someone whose no is gender influenced. I stand mulling over that thought. I
need to take a leak before I try to renegotiate the terms.
Jordanna crashes into me when I come out of the bathroom. Her eyes
glued to her phone. Probably texting the boyfriend. Or is he the beard?
She offers a rushed apology. "Oh, damn. Sorry."
When she finally looks up, I see the confusion and guilt in her copper
colored eyes. Maybe we didn’t get it wrong. I step closer, and she takes a
small step back. "What are you doing?"
"I think you liked that kiss."
"I won our round, didn't I?"
 I back her against the wall. "You controlled your reaction, I commend
you, but that doesn't mean you weren't into it."
She lifts that defiant little chin. "Well, I'm telling you, I wasn't."
I replay the details of our lip lock over in my head. I feel myself stiffen
thinking about the taste of her lips. The reaction I'm having doesn't go
unnoticed. The tip of her tongue darts out to wet her lips. No, she wasn't
unaffected at all.
I step away, clasping my hands together behind my back so I don't push
her to her knees and slip my cock between those full lips. The bets still on, I
just need to come at her a different way.

Long fingers pluck my tray out of my hands. I whip my head up, glaring at
Logan. "What are you doing?" I feel like I ask that question a lot, because
his behavior never makes sense to me.
"You're sitting with us today."
Five seconds ago, I was hungry. The thought of sitting with Logan and
his friends after what happened in the closet has made me lose my appetite.
"I'd rather sit in the middle of an actual polar ice cap in my underwear.
At least there, I know the sun will shine at some point this year." I haven't
even agreed to go anywhere near the beautiful people and yet, Bella is
already sending me murderous glares.
"It'll be fine."
He heads through the maze of tables over to where his friends are
sitting, and I have no choice but to follow because he's holding my food
hostage.
"Besides," He says dodging someone’s book bag. "You can't expect me
to have to live two separate friendship lives."
"That's exactly what I expect you to do. To be clear, I'm not officially
claiming you as my friend, but if I were, we'd need to be separate and apart
from the ones you already have; because when they're sober, your core set
and I do not get along."
"That’s why you're eating with us today. This will give you all a chance
to get to know each other. Resolve old hurts. That sort of thing. I promise
you'll like them once you give them a chance."
"You can't say for certain that I will."
He stops in the middle of our journey and turns to face me. "And you
can't say for certain that you won't. Besides, we're working on a project
together and I'd like to be able to brainstorm with you at random moments
like these when we're eating at the same time."
I follow him to the gallows, or in modern terms, the table occupied by
his friends, leaving enough space for someone to sit between us. He grabs
the leg of my chair, pulling me closer, and slides my tray towards me. I dip
my fry in ketchup to keep my hands and mouth busy. They ignore me,
engrossed in their conversation, and I'm content to sit in awkward silence
because I won't be sitting here again.
I'm lost in thought when I feel a nudge on my shoulder, vaguely aware
that someone is calling my name. Tabitha is looking at me. "I'm sorry, did
you say something?"
"I asked about your last school. Van der Borne must be a lot different
from what you're used to."
"Sure this campus is embossed in gold. My old school just used glitter."
She chuckles at my sarcasm. The first sign that someone in Bella's
group has a mind of their own. "I bet that's a bitch for the landscapers."
"Not so much, they just vacuum it up and shoot new glitter through a
cannon for all the major holidays. Way more cost effective than spit shining
the metal crap around here."
 She breaks into a genuine laugh, and I smile until my eyes settle on
Bella. All I've got for her is the same energy she's giving me. I check my
watch and gather up my tray. I've spent all the time I can doing lunch with
the upper crust. If I'm going to catch my advisor during office hours, to
discuss course alignment and transfer credits, for when I get back to
Carryville, I need to go now.
My advisor, Mr. Bordough, clicks his mouse, and his fingers fly across
the keyboard. "Okay, Jordanna, so far everything looks great concerning
your core classes." He removes his round wire-rimmed spectacles and folds
his hands on the desk in front of him. "Your life study grade, however…
well, for an artist, I'm a little concerned about those scores."
"I know I'm struggling a bit, but, I've been working after hours, and the
TA Noel, has been giving me extra exercises to help bring my grade up."
"Yes. I've read the all the progress notes he's been sending to Grace."
I'd almost forgotten there was an actual professor he reports to.
"She's concerned that you're playing it safe and worried about your
project. Not only is it serving as your submission for that scholarship you're
eyeing at Carryville, but it's also scheduled to be included in the art
symposium and auction. Some of our biggest investors and alumni will be
there, and there's a prestigious internship up for grabs. This isn't the time for
safe Jordanna."
"I understand, sir. I can do better. I will do better."
"Okay, get with my assistant, and let's schedule an update meeting for a
month from now."
A month to show improvement. I was nervous about talking to Mr.
Bordough about my plans to transfer when we had our introductory meeting
my first week of school, but he's been very helpful and supportive, and was
even able to get his hands on the submission packages for the highest and
lowest ranked students for the last four years.
No two paintings or photographs are the same. But I’m getting an idea
of what the judges like. I can do this, but first I need to come up with a way
to push past this irrational hang up I have about nudity.
I text Robbie the moment I'm outside.
Just left my advisor. Everything is on track, I just need to kill it with my
art submission.
I wait a few seconds for the chat bubbles to show. When there's no
response, I slip my phone back into my pocket. He must be in the middle of
something. That's one of the things I love about Robbie. He's so driven and
focused that not even a phone chime will drag him away. He'll respond
when he comes up for air.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I don't know whether to call having Jordanna sit with us at lunch a

success or a failure. She was laughing and joking with Tabitha, some of
the stress easing from her face, and then she looked at Bella and the tension
crept back in. She flew from the table like a caged falcon finally being set
free.
I rarely have to worry about if the girl I'm messing with likes my
friends, because it's a given that they're so damn excited to be in our orbit.
Jordanna was acting like I sentenced her to death. Well, she's just going to
have to get used to it. She needs to believe that what's developing between
us is real. I won't be able to sell it if we're sneaking around. I mean, it's hot
when it's done right, but her downfall is going to be loud and public and
messy. I need her fake ascension to the top of the food chain to be the same.
She's curled up in the corner, in the lounge of her dorm, when I come
back from having dinner with Tabitha. "Hey, what are you doing down
here?"
"Kassidy has friends over and..."
Kassidy with friends over isn't news to me. I'm the one who told them to
change their study session to tonight. "Say no more." I hold out my hand for
her sketch pad. "May I?"
Jordy cringes, flipping the page shut. "It's horrible."
"I know. Most things we do and critique ourselves, usually are. Now,
hand it over."
"I mean it Logan. It's so bad."
 I keep my hand extended, refusing to take no for an answer. She
reluctantly places the booklet in my hand. I flip through a few sketches and
finally land on the one she's working on. She's still struggling with the
human form. "You know we switch to men in two more weeks. If boobs are
still giving you issues, what are you going to do when there's a schlong in
front of you?"
"This is why I should've dropped this class already. I wonder how much
I'd have to drink to be okay with getting my first F."
"Nobody's failing."
"You're not looking at the right picture then."
I hold out my hand. "Come on." She eyes me, hesitating on whether or
not she should touch me. "Stop overthinking it."
She places her palm in mine and I pull her to her feet, gathering her
portfolio and tossing her the satchel full of pencils, that I'm pretty sure is
doubling as a purse.
I feel her tugging to pull away, but I ignore it, keeping our hands joined
as we cross the lobby. She's going to need to get used to being seen and
touched by me in public. This whole thing hinges on that. I release my grip
once we're outside and lead her towards the parking lot.
"Where are we going?"
"I'm taking you someplace where I can help you with your nerves about
seeing people naked."
She stops, taking a step back. The look on her face like a deer caught in
the headlights of a F250. "I'm not going to a strip club with you."
Well, that's a random thought to be swimming around in her head. But I
like it. I can totally see us in a private room, her eyes wide, her breath
coming in heavy pants as we watch the dancer. I'd sit her in my lap and hike
her skirt up. Push her panties to the side... Okay, Logan, enough of that.
She's not there yet and a hard on would land her firmly in the discomfort
zone. This is not seduction time, it's be the friend and support system she
needs time.
"Taking you to a strip club never crossed my mind. But, if you'd like to
go." I give her a minute as if expecting her to think about it. "No? Okay,
then we'll do plan A. Get in."
I hold the door open and wait for her to settle in the seat before
slamming it shut.
 The drive to our destination takes less than thirty minutes. We exit the
car, and she eyes the building and our surroundings with trepidation. I
understand the look. The lights are out on both street corners and the
storefronts two blocks over were all boarded up. The whole neighborhood
used to be amazing. It's in the middle of a real estate battle between the
children of the former owners and an investment group who want to build
condos.
"This building used to be a functioning factory, but it was repurposed
years ago." I push my key in the lock, holding the heavy metal door open
for her. She steps into the entryway and jumps when it closes with a
thwank. I lift the gate to the elevator, and once inside, I latch it closed,
before pushing the button for the top floor.
When the elevator car shutters to a stop, I roll the gate open and usher
her down the hall. Pushing the barn doors open to my favorite place.
She steps into the open space and has the reaction I had the first time I
came here. "This is a studio?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Yours?"
"I got it for a good deal. Took me nights and weekends in high school to
get it ready. I still have a few things to do, but it's functional."
I point to my left. "Full bathroom, small kitchen."
"And a bed." She trips over the word. Damn, just how innocent is she?
Did she and the snail get separate rooms?
"You saw that did you?"
"Hard to miss, it's in the middle of the room."
"I crash here when I'm working late and too tired to drive to campus or
go home." I pull my shirt over my head. I see her trying to avert her gaze
and I take my time walking across the room to get a t-shirt that I don’t mind
getting dirty. I wait until I’m in front of my bench before pulling it on.
"This space is… amazing." She says, walking over to my workbench.
"Do you only work with clay?"
"Iron, wood, marble, metal. Whatever I'm in the mood for." I take the
camera off the table behind me, and flick the shutter. "Sometimes it's film."
I hold it out to her. "Here."
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Go over there to that mirror, take a picture of yourself and then," I pull
her to the empty easel and plop a blank canvas on it. "Draw what you see."
 "I can't."
"This is a safe place. Nobody can get in here without being buzzed in,
or having a key. So no one will see what you're working on."
"You'll see."
I cross to the side of the room. "I promise to respect your work and not
peek without permission. And I'll keep my back turned while you're taking
the picture. "
She pushes the Nikon away. "I can't."
"Because you're scared? A bad photographer? Or because the idea of
removing even one article of clothing around me is exhilarating and you
can't give in to that because you won't be able to keep your hands off of
me?"
She twists her lips, "Now you're reaching."
"Okay then, if you're not worried you're going to want to push me on
the bed and have your wicked way with me, what's the problem?"
I place the camera in her hand and push her towards the mirror. "Go. I'll
be over here with my headphones in and my hands up to my elbows in
clay."
She could be completely naked or just have one shoe off. Either way, I
force myself to honor my word and not turn around to look until she puts
the camera on the table in front of me. I unplug my ears. "All set?"
She's fidgeting. "I couldn't do it."
"Jord-,"
"It's awkward taking a picture of myself in a mirror, I'm seeing
everything magnified in the lens. Every freckle, every faded scar, I'm too
critical of myself."
Shit, she really does need help, if she can't even look at herself. I pick
up the camera, dragging a stool over by the lamp in the corner. "Okay, I’ll
take the pictures. We'll go slow. Which body part would you like to focus
on today?"
"Maybe I shouldn't."
"You totally should. You want to pass this class. You need to pass this
class, and more than that, if you're so caught up worrying about your grade
and trying to pass, you won't have time to work on your submission for the
symposium. Jordy, you can't play it safe. I can help you. Just pretend you’re
somewhere else. Someone else."
 She closes her eyes and unbuttons her shirt at the neck. I snap. Another
button, another click. Until her right shoulder is exposed. She rearranges the
collar on the other side, uncovering the second shoulder. The size and cut of
her shirt makes it impossible to reveal anything more without removing it
entirely.
"Do you wanna stop here?"
"I don't know."
"Maybe I can capture your back?" I retrieve a sheet off the bed and hold
it up to her. Turning to give her a moment to wrap it around her.
"Okay, I'm ready."
I grip my camera hard enough to crack the frame. Jordanna cuts those
cat eyes at me and I'm suddenly struck by how much gold resides in her
irises and how perfect her nose, and cheekbones are. Damn, was her mouth
this pouty before? How did I not notice? The sheet's draped over her arms
and held together just under her sternum, exposing both shoulders and the
swell of her breasts.
I snap pictures in quick succession and hand her the SD card, so she can
print out the ones she wants on my computer. While she's doing that, I go
back to pretending like it's no big deal that she was naked under my sheet
from the waist up.
I zone back out, getting lost in the feel of the clay as I work on my
sculpture. It's hours later when I notice my phone flashing with a missed
call from Tabitha.
I dial her back. "Tabby, hey." I listen as she tells me I missed dinner and
drinks with the crew. "I lost track of time. Yeah, at the studio." I quickly
decline her offer to bring me food. Tabitha and now Jordy are the only
women I've ever had here. I end the call with a promise to show up for
breakfast.
I wave my phone at Jordanna. "Guess I lost track of time."
She chews on her lip, nodding as she picks up her device. "Me, too. I
have a missed call from my mom, my sister, and…"
It hangs in the air and the mortification sets in. The boyfriend.
"Jordy…" I try to stave off the freakout I sense is about to happen. "Jordy."
"No, no, no, what was I thinking? I can't believe I just let you take
pictures of me." She mutters almost as an afterthought, "and kiss me during
that stupid game."
 "The pictures are tame. We covered up all your naughty parts. If your
boyfriend is going to freak out because I got a couple of pictures of your
shoulder and upper back, then you should really reevaluate if he's the one
you wanna spend the rest of your life sleeping with. Or is sex never going
to happen with the two of you?"
It's a low blow, but enough to snap her out of whatever meltdown she
was about to have.
"What?"
"I'm just saying. With the exception of a few things left on for variety,
spice, or because you just don't have time to take everything off, like when
someone takes you up against a wall, for a quick and fast, fuck; clothes
have to come off. If your boyfriend's such a puritan that shoulders and
elbows are sinful, you're looking at a boring ass time in bed."
"Fuck you." She spats.
"Tell me Jordanna, how am I supposed to react to that? Is it a sincere
offer, or is it just a carrot you're dangling, because it's what you do to men
who want you."
"I thought you brought me here to help me. Was it a lie? Some kind of
ploy to try to get me in bed? How many more pictures or pieces of clothing
was I supposed to take off before that happened? Or did you stop because
once I got under the glaring lights, you discovered I'm so hideous it wasn't
worth your time?"
"I am helping you." I turn my back to her, dropping my chisel in the
toolbox with more force than necessary. How the hell does she think she's
hideous. Toga Jordy is hot as fuck. Like Vesta, the virgin goddess who
captured the attention of Apollo and Neptune.
I swallow my anger and desire turning to face her. "This wasn’t a failed
seduction attempt, Jordanna. I didn't try to kiss or touch you. All I wanted
was to help you get over this fear you have of looking at the nude body. I
would never push you to do anything that you were uncomfortable with,
and if you didn't want me to take those pictures, you shouldn't have given
me the goddamn camera."
I grab my wallet and keys off the table. "The doors will lock behind you
automatically. Stay as long as you need to." I pause when I reach the door.
"For what it's worth, hideous is never how you should refer to yourself.
Even with all your fucking clothes on, I can tell you're breathtakingly
beautiful and I would go days without food or sleep trying to capture a
fraction of your beauty in clay."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

L ogan's words haunted me. I couldn't even finish what I was working
on, so I printed a few photos before deleting the pictures on his SD
card and computer and took my canvas and photos with me, leaving shortly
after he did. On the elevator ride down to the lobby, I was cursing him out
in my head for leaving me stranded, but when I stepped onto the pavement,
the driver of a town car got out and opened the door, explaining Mr.
McKay, instructed him to wait for me.
When I asked how long was he supposed to be out there, he said,
however long it took for me to emerge from the building. Because of things
like that, it's hard for me to place him firmly in asshole category. We had a
fight, and he left, but he still sent a car for me. I wish he'd stick to one
personality trait. It would make it easier to continue justifying my dislike
for him.
I'm staring at the photo I'm supposed to be drawing. It captures my face,
shoulder and just the slight curve of the top of my breast. The shadows and
light give my skin a bronze glow. He called me beautiful in a way that
inspires him to sculpt. I frown at the photograph, trying to see what he saw.
I put my brush down and head to class. My heart sinks a little when I
see he's not in our economics class, and sit through the lecture, wondering if
his absence has something to do with our fight. No, that's impossible. The
leader of the beautiful people wouldn't ditch because he's avoiding me.
He's absent from art too. I'm heading to the library after my last class
and see his friends get into their cars and leave campus. Wherever this
weekends fun is happening, won't be around here. That's good, because I
could use a break from the after hours hookups Kassidy brings back to the
dorms. Even with separate bedrooms, I can hear her when the fun gets out
of control or doesn't make it further than the shared living room.
Plus, it gives me time to work ahead in my classes. I'm going to
Carryville to see Robbie next weekend. Things were tense between us when
he left. Hopefully, being back on familiar turf will help us reconnect. I miss
him and how simple things used to be. A long distance relationship is harder
than I thought it would be.

It's Tuesday, and I'm waiting for Logan outside of class so I can talk to him
about our project. I'm betting it's a long shot that he worked on it wherever
he was over the weekend. The chatter in the hall intensifies and quiets in a
ripple effect. I spy the loyal subjects waiting against the walls as the royal
court makes its entrance. Logan's in the middle of a crowd, like always, and
it looks like he's made a new friend. I recognize Cecile from English Lit.
Her arm is wrapped so tightly around his, it reminds me of a creeping vine.
She's chattering about how much fun she had and that she can't wait to do it
again. I ignore the look Bella gives me when she walks by. If she's not
onboard with me talking to Logan, she needs to take it up with the teacher.
"Hi." Is about as clever as I get with Cecile and Logan staring at me the
way they are. She glares at me and her hand tightens on his arm in a
possessive chokehold.
His look is less emotional. Indifferent to my presence. It's fine. It was
his idea to forge a friendship, not mine, and I'm happy to go back to the way
things used to be. I just need him to do his part of the damn assignment. "I
wanted to talk to you about our project, and see if we can set up a time to
compare notes, on how we're progressing."
"You wanna have a strategy session in the hall minutes before class is
about to start?"
"Yes. You know, in case the professor asks for a status update." He’s
looking at me like that would never happen. "I would've done it this
weekend, but you weren't around."
"Keeping tabs on me, Jordy?"
 "The pop-up party text on Prospectus and your friends peeling out the
parking lot on Friday, kinda gave it away."
"Well, I'll probably be around this weekend. We can go over it then."
"But I…"
The teacher walks by swirling his finger in the air, and I follow behind
them to my seat. This weekend won't work and I'll tell him as soon as class
is over. Logan's out of his seat before I'm done packing my bag, and
wherever he's spending his free time must be cloaked by some kind of
magic spell, because I don't see him or his friends on campus again before
the next class.

He’s ducking me. There's no other explanation for it. Once again, he bolted
from the classroom, knowing I wanted to talk to him about our research
paper. I'm fuming that he's messing around with my grade, and startle when
I see him in his seat in our life study class, since he skipped the last two. He
never does the work Noel assigns, so I assumed he finally dropped the
class.
It's clear he's avoiding me. Maybe the line about my beauty was a line
after all. Or he found a better subject to admire. Cecile certainly looked like
she spent the weekend being muse worthy.
I should gauge my brain out, because I surely don't understand the
fucking stab of envy I feel. I don't want to be his muse, but I do want to
pass this research project. Sure I could do it on my own, but do I want the
drama that's going to come with cutting him out of the work credit? There’s
no doubt in my mind that his friends would see it as a personal attack and
find a way to retaliate.
Easing into my seat, I rehash what I want to say. During my carefully
crafted speech, I’ll refrain from accusations and keep my hands still so that
I don't come across as forceful or bitchy. "So, I wanted to talk about our
project."
"I already told you we can work on it this weekend."
"That's just it. This weekend won't work for me."
His hand pauses mid stroke. "What do you mean it won't work for you?
Is this some type of payback? I wasn't available last weekend, so you're not
free this weekend?"
 "Who has times for those types of games?" I remember who I'm talking
to, he's probably surrounded by women playing those type of games. Well,
I'm not one of them. I calm my voice and explain. "I'm going to the
Fairview. It's been planned since the summer."
“Fairview, CT?” His brows flick down. "That's where the boyfriend is.
So getting laid is more important than our grade?"
"Logan-"
"Alright, alright. I know. It's none of my business and I can understand
your first time can't be rescheduled."
I ignore the invasive part of this conversation. At first I wondered how
he knew I'm a virgin, and then I remember that damn magazine spread last
year. Waiting is okay. Abstinence in the social media age. "So do you have
time today or tomorrow?"
"I've got some work to do in my studio."
"Well, maybe if I had your email or number, we could text and share the
documents while I'm on the bus on Friday."
"You're catching a bus to Carryville?”
"Yeah, how else would I get there?"
My car got reacquired along with anything else that could be considered
an asset. Mom's too. But she got one financed before the news broke and
the ding to her credit hit. We nickel and dime everything to save money.
That's another reason I'm here on scholarship.
"Lover boy won't at least spring for a train ticket?"
"Email or what Logan?"
"Yeah, sure." He pulls my phone out of my smock. "You know there
were easier ways to get my number."
Telling him this wasn't a scheme to get his phone number falls on deaf
ears.

We email and text during my bus ride, and I'm relieved to see that he's
actually put in a decent effort on his own. I'll be able to enjoy this weekend
without this paper hanging over my head. Last night, on a whim, I changed
my ticket and I'm on the early morning bus heading east. Robbie has a
break from noon to three, and I'm hoping I can convince him to get a jump
on the weekend.
The moment I step onto campus, I feel more like myself. This is where
I'm supposed to be. This is my school. I've gotta ace this art class because
the scholarship and internship I'm applying for needs updated material from
my portfolio and I have to show growth and an edge. Tackling naked bodies
means my portfolio will have more than birds, buildings and bowls of fruit.
I wave to a couple of people I know as I climb the steps to the dorms.
The girl at the front desk is new, but the RA leaning against the counter
isn't.
"Jordanna. What are you doing here? Are you back?" He checks his
clipboard. "I don't have you on my dorm assignment, but shit, we can make
room."
"I'm not back. Not yet. I'm just here for the weekend visiting Robbie." I
smile at the girl behind the desk and pick up the pen to sign in. Turning
back to Jason, I ask, "How've you been? I thought for sure you were giving
up the RA job this year."
"I was, and then I remembered I’m getting free room and board to
babysit. Why give that up?"
A crash behind us interrupts our catching up. "Time to go sit on the
babies. You and me, drinks sometime this weekend, to catch up?" He asks
as he walks backward down the hall.
"Absolutely." I continue up the stairs and inhale. The smell of this
building is both familiar and foreign since my nose is getting used to
thousand dollar bottles of perfume and cologne. I knock on Robbie’s door,
rocking back and forth on my heels, waiting for him to answer. I smile
imagining his face, when I yell surprise.
The door opens and a non-masculine person opens the door, in a cute
turquoise and pink bra and panty combo. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry. I must have
the wrong room."
I step away, pulling up our text thread when I hear his voice saying,
"Simone, the shower's ready." Followed by, "Who was at the door?"
When I shove the door open wider, I'm confronted by something I've
never seen before. Robbie's dick. I'm in shock, which has to be why my first
thought is we should've been meeting under different circumstances.
"Jordanna. It's…"
 My eyes snap to his. "If you, tell me that tired ass line, that it's not what
I think it is, I swear to God I'll slash your tires." His car is his pride and joy
next to me. Well shit, before me, because I've never seen him with another
car in his garage.
"Come in, we're drawing a crowd."
"Oh? Are you afraid they're going to see you standing here butt ass
naked? Now you wanna be discreet? Looks like you were all for sharing it
with Simone a second ago."
He pulls me into the room, closing the door behind him, and hurries to
snatch his shorts from the bed. No boxers. Guess those would be a waste of
time when he's probably going to get naked as soon as I'm gone.
"Why are you even here?"
"It's my weekend to come visit. Did you forget?"
"I expected you later."
No, he didn't forget. It’s so much worse than that. “Wow. You thought
you had time to fuck her and get straight before seeing me too."
"Jordanna, you know-,"
"What I know is that now it makes sense why waiting was never such a
chore for you. How many other people around here have been graced with
the sight of your dick?"
"Maybe if I hadn't of been waiting this wouldn't have happened."
"Right. That's right. It's my fault you're a cheating bastard." I rip the
door open with so much force, it bangs against the wall.
"Jordanna, I'm sorry. Jordanna." He follows me into the hall. "Let's talk
about this. I never meant to hurt you. Baby, I love you."
"Well, you have a funny way of showing it."
I run down the steps and out the door and make it halfway down the
block before I slow down to catch my breath. Thankfully, the shuttle is
waiting and I take it to the bus station. I’m pissed that I'm going to be
stranded here for three hours waiting for my return trip to VDU. How could
I have been so stupid? All these years bragging that my man loved me so
much, he was willing to wait. How many people knew I was being made a
fool of and never said anything?
My phone dings, and out of habit I check it, expecting it to be Robbie.
It's not.
Logan: I know you're in the middle of your happy reunion, which I hope is
leading to a happy ending, but here's the final block from that last page that
didn't come thru. I won't bother you again until your ride back on Sunday.
Me: It's not a bother, I'll be around to discuss tonight
Logan: I thought you caught an early bus out. Were you delayed this
whole time?
Me: There's been a mix-up with Robbie, so I'll be around this weekend
after all
Logan: Where are you exactly?

I ignore the text, reading through the last few pages of our project. My
phone rings seconds later. "Hey, so the data looks good, I'll do my
calculations for future earnings and we should be ready to build the power
point."
"Jordanna, what are you doing?"
"I'm sitting down talking to you."
"Sitting where? Why aren't you going to the Fairview to see Mr.
Puritan?"
I snort at the nickname. There's nothing pure about him. "I did.
Something's happened, and we had to cut our visit short." My voice cracks
on the last word.
"Where are you?"
I take a deep breath, getting my emotions under control. It'll be an even
bigger embarrassment to be out here crying. "So, like I said, I'll be back this
weekend."
"Jordanna, I asked you a fucking question. Where are you?" He asks,
infusing a little more authority in his tone. Heaven only knows why I
answer.
"At the bus depot." I say, forcing a cheerfulness into my voice.
"I'm coming to get you."
"Ha, good luck with that. You're like four hours away, and my bus will
be here before then."
"No, I'm not."
"What do you mean, you're not?" He disconnects the call without
answering. Forty minutes later a car pulls in front of the depot and I watch
as Logan climbs out of the back seat. "I don't know why or how you're here,
but this is ridiculous."
"I'm supposed to have dinner with my dad in the city, so I flew down
after my last class. I had the pilot divert here after we talked.”
"Oh."
"So you wanna tell my you're in the middle of the bus depot looking
like your world just ended?"
I don't even like this guy, yet he's here to check on me, and my
boyfriend, correction, ex-boyfriend, sent two texts and that's it. I avert my
gaze, so he won't see the tears in my eyes. I never let people see me cry. Not
even my mom. "No."
"Fine. Let's go."
"I can't go, I'm waiting for my bus."
"No, you're not. You're coming with me." He grabs my bag and my
hand, pulling me to my feet, and drags me along like he did the night he
took me to his studio.
"Don't you have plans? You just said…"
"That I'm having dinner with my dad. Yes, but that doesn't mean, I can't
make sure you get a decent meal, and put in a car back to school."
"Logan,"
He hands my bag to the driver, who puts it in the trunk. "Look Jordy, I'd
take you myself, but this dinner is kind of important."
"I don't want to be a bother."
"You're not. You're a young woman, who looks like she's just had a
pretty bad experience with her boyfriend." He pulls out his phone. "On
second thought, I'm not sending you home in the car just yet. I'm booking
you a spa day."
"No, you're not."
"A horrible first time is worth what? Three hours of pampering?"
"It wasn't horrible."
He looks over at me. "Well shit, Jordanna, it wasn't good or else you'd
still be there with him. Only other time I've seen a woman bail on a man as
quickly as you did is when my cousin caught her boyfriend banging his…"
His voice trails off. "Son of a bitch."
I lower my head, swiping at my eye. "Now, can I go back to waiting for
my bus in humiliation, alone?"
 He pushes me into the back of the car, and climbs in beside me. "No
Jordy, you can't."

It’s a ninety minute drive to New York City, and Logan spends the day
glued to my side. When I finally admit I'm starving, he takes me for brunch
with mimosas and then drags me from store to store looking for a gift for
his little sister.
I feel bad that he feels like he has to babysit me, and to show my
appreciation for him trying to be decent about my disastrous adventure, I
help him pick out the perfect gift.
He has the car drop him off at the restaurant and instructs the driver to
take me back to campus. I fall asleep on the ride and have a nightmare
about being locked in an ivory tower as I'm forced to watch Robbie marry
Simone. I back away toward the window trying to escape and lose my
footing, falling through the window, plummeting to my death. Logan
catches me seconds before I hit the ground.

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 CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I couldn't have planned for a better outcome on the boyfriend front, I just
wish I hadn't been stuck in the city all weekend. Sending Jordanna back
to campus alone may have given her too much time to wallow, or time for
the boyfriend to plead his case and win her forgiveness.
Bella's waiting for me in my room when I get back to campus. "You
never mentioned you were leaving town this weekend."
"I didn't realize I had to run my schedule through you."
"I had some people lined up to play this weekend, and you weren't
here."
"Frankie and Hal are more than capable of toying with whoever wore
the same outfit as you. In fact, they live for the chance to do your bidding."
She lowers her mirror. "What's with you?"
"I just spent the weekend with my dad and his golf buddy's. Do you
think I can get a minute before you throw your tantrum?"
"No, you-,"
I cut her off. "It wasn't a question, Bella. I let you have a long leash,
because sometimes I don't want to get my hands dirty. But, let's not forget
whose really in charge here."
"What would you do without me keeping the games running?"
"I'd find a replacement that knows when to shut the fuck up."
"We both know if you do that, you'll never get what you want."
She's gotten the last word in and thinks she's got me over a barrel. She's
been dangling it as a prize for years and I've always thought the ultimate
measure of my power would be in her finally conceding and giving it to me.
But this weekend I saw hints that my father is pushing up his timeline and
there may come a day when I no longer want the prize she's bargaining
with. Once she's gone, I pull out my computer and delete my browsing
history. Bella's on a power trip and will use anything she can to win.

I take my usual seat in economics, book ended by Frankie and Hal.

Jordanna gives me a small smile when she walks by. Her eyes are puffy
behind her navy blue tortoise-shell glasses, like she's spent the weekend
crying. Thirty-nine hours is long enough for her to be upset about not being
able to give her virginity to the wrong guy. He didn't deserve it, anyway.
There's no way in hell he was ever going to give her what she needs, which
is a safe space to feel bold in her sexuality.
I wait for her after class. Pulling the specs from her face. "Contacts?"
"Since I was sixteen."
"And you don't wear colored ones?"
"I never really saw the point."
"Neither do I. Your eyes are fascinating. Any artificial color would be
bland in comparison."
"Are you sure you're not a lit major? You sure like to spout flowery
words."
"I'm an artist and words are a form of art. But I also know beauty, when
I see it, and yours deserves all the words."
"You're trying to cheer me up because of this weekend. Thanks, but you
don't have to say things like that. You've helped enough, and I'm already
embarrassed that you felt like you had to come rescue me."
"Are you kidding? I would've had to spend the day in my father's office.
Getting you to help me shop, it was you rescuing me."
She seems to be struggling with something. "Hey, you know this had
nothing to do with you, right? You can't control what people do. Robbie
made a choice, and it had nothing to do with your choice to wait."
"He called me. All night Friday, Saturday, yesterday. I keep sending it to
voice mail, instead of permanently blocking his number."
"You want to talk to him."
"I'm no better than him. I cheated first."
I know what she’s talking about, and guilt will sabotage my plans. “It
was a kiss in a stupid game, Jordy."
 “It was still wrong, and if he knew about it he'd be hurt, and I'd be the
one begging for forgiveness. How do you flush eighteen months down the
toilet?"
I answer as honestly as I can. "I wouldn't know. I've never been in a
relationship that lasted that long, and I don't know how women deal with
break-ups, no matter how long or short the relationship is. I'll be no help to
my sister, aside from breaking the knee caps of any boys that hurt her." I
wink at her. "I need practice, you want me to break his?"
She giggles, despite the grief she’s feeling. "I need to head to class." I
tip her chin up so she's looking at me. "Keep your head up Jordy."
Before she can correct me on the use of the nickname, she pretends not
to like I say, "If you wanna paint, I'll be at my studio tonight."

Jordanna skipped class, she's ignoring my texts, and she missed our
meeting. I catch her coming out of her door room with her satchel over her
shoulder. "You look underwhelming."
"Go away Logan, I'm not in the mood to be criticized by you."
"You missed our meeting about the paper."
"I'm not in the mood to work on that either. I just need to paint."
If she's not interested in working on our project, then she's in worse
shape than I thought. "Come with me."
"I don't have time for shopping either. Okay? I just- I just wanna be left
alone."
"Sorry, can't do that Jordy. You can come with me willingly or I can
drag you out of here."
"If you touch me, I'll scream and kick and bite."
"Then I'll gag you and tie you down." I pause, rethinking my response.
"On second thought, go ahead and fight me. I'll enjoy that."
She steps by me, and I drop my shoulder, hoisting her over it. "Logan, I
said, I'm not in the mood to study."
"I know that. That's why I'm taking you somewhere where you can
paint. In private."
I study the angry slashes of red she's throwing against the canvas. That's the
only way to describe it, because she's flicking her paint brush instead of
gliding it along. I know my moods manifest in my art. Hers is showing too.
"Okay." I say, taking the brush and palette from her. "I think you need a
break."
"No, I don't."
"Yes, Jordy. You do."
"I told you, don't call me that and don't tell me what to do. I'm tired of
everyone telling me what the hell I should feel, or what I should do, or that
it's time to forgive Robbie. He cheated on me. Why am I the one in the
wrong, because I wasn't ready to give him what she could?"
"Whoa." I throw my hands up to ward off her verbal blows. "Hey. I
don't know who everybody is, but I'm assuming it's your mutual friends,
and if you told them what happened and they still think you owe him a
second chance, then they're shitty friends and you don't need them."
"That's rich coming from you. You have the shittiest friends I've ever
seen."
"That's your opinion of them, but then again, I'm not blind to their
flaws, and we all know and own the fucked up shit we do, and their
consequences."
I pull another stool over to face her. "Now do you want to tell me what
happened or not?"
"I told you, I'm getting calls and texts pleading Robbie's case."
"And you're conflicted, because you miss him? Or because deep down
you think it's your fault that he's a cheating bastard?"
"Don't pretend to empathize. How many girls have you cheated on?"
"None."
She snorts and rolls her eyes.
"You don't believe me, but it's true. I've never cheated on a woman, the
girls I spend time with, we have an understanding. And I told you, I don't do
the long-term thing. We go out. We fuck, we move on."
"That's so cold and callous."
"That's attraction, and I'm not ashamed of it. Neither are the women I've
been with. We're physical beings, Jordy, and I don't know if anybody told
you or not, but there's nothing wrong with giving and getting pleasure. Sex
is another outlet for emotions. Letting go, of any emotion, is freeing."
 I hand her back her tools, crank up the music, a heavy rock number, and
let her direct her frustrations at the canvas.

It's hours later when she finally pops her head up. I nod when she points to
a tarp, respecting her right to privacy about whatever she was painting. I
brought her here to vent, to rage, to hurt, to purge this weekend out of her
system. Because soon every thought she has will be of me.

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 CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I invited Jordanna to sit with us and stepped away to speak to one of the
reporters from the school paper. I saw Jordy say something to Bella and
I could see it didn't go well. She’s expressed her hesitancy about hanging
out with me around my friends, and I know Bella is the sticking point. I
corner Bella in the hall, on the way to her World Lit class, dragging her
towards the wall so we can talk in private.
"Ow, ow." She snatches her arm from my grip. "Let me go." She looks
at the small red marks on her arm. "What the hell is your problem?"
"Cut your shit Bella." I hold a finger to her lips before she can plead her
innocence. "Your attitude towards Jordanna, I suggest you change it starting
now. This bet won't get any traction if she's too busy avoiding you, to spend
time with me."
"You can't razzle dazzle her if she and I aren't friends?"
"If she's as wholesome as she seems, how likely is she to hook up with
me, if she thinks you're a jealous girlfriend? Especially when she just found
out her boyfriends been fucking around on her."
She considers my questions and says, "I'm not jealous and we both
know, I'm not your girlfriend."
"No, but you act like it, every goddamn time Jordanna comes near me.
Resting bitch face and bitchy commentary included. Are you jealous? Or
did you change your mind? Maybe you’re no longer interested in this bet,
and you're too scared to tell me you wanna back out."
"Hell no. I want you to take Miss Priss down."
 "Then stop being a bitch and start pretending like you support our
spending time together. Or I might suddenly decide to take another bet and
make it your life, I upend instead."
I pull a strand of her hair to my nose. "Bella, we both know, it's way
more fun when I step back and let you call the shots, but I'd be happy to
take control of the game."
Her eyes widen, her breath catches in her throat. The last time I was the
play caller, we toppled the ruling class. The after shocks of that coup d'état
extended beyond the campus boundaries. There are families still trying to
recover from the shifting power dynamic.
"Fine, I'll be nice."
"Nice isn't something you're good at. I'll take family dinner party
cordial." I release her hair. "I know you need your outlet. Go find someone
else to actively hate."

"Can I look now?" Jordanna asks for the fifth time.

"No."
"Logan, come on. Where are you taking me?"
"Just a few more steps."
"I've already seen your studio. It's a little late to start with the cloak and
dagger routine now. I know the address."
"Ok, one more second." I come back to her and remove the blindfold.
"Now!"
She's silent as she looks around the room. "You snuck us into the
museum?"
I nod, thrilled to hear the wonder in her voice. "This collection goes on
display tomorrow. We're the first to see it. I thought you'd enjoy being able
to look, cry, or whatever, without an audience or time limit."
She plops down on the bench in front of us and stares. And though I was
kidding, the waterworks start. There's only two things I know to do when a
girl cries. Give her a bottle or fuck her. None of those situations apply here.
"I hope you're not wasting a perfectly good private viewing by thinking
about the asshole ex."
 She swipes at her face. "God no, I love this painting. I've always wanted
to see it up close, and now I am. I'm sitting here and, it's just so
overwhelming. I never thought I would."
So it's a good cry. Okay, I can work with that. Good cries, means
gratitude which translates to warm feelings about me. The warmer the
better, until eventually she's burning for my touch. Yeah, a few more
surprises like this, and I should have her deflowered in time for Halloween.
That'll give her all of Thanksgiving break to avoid and hate me, and I'll be
back to rejecting Bella's suggestions by spring.
She sits quietly for a few more minutes and then we continue our
journey through the rest of the exhibit. I listen as she explains what she
thinks about each painting. How the colors make her feel, what she'd
change, why she looks for signs of the artist's hopes and dreams in each
one. When we come to the one simply titled 'Open', I watch her lips part.
It's a series of paintings. The pastel splashes of color mimic a bud of a
flower at the beginning of spring and in succession the strokes get bigger
and bigger culminating in a hazy shimmer of glittery infused pink, with
warming red undertones.
"And what do you think the artist hoped for or dreamed of here?"
"She was floating."
"Why?"
Her voice drops, taking on a melancholy tone. "Love?"
I put my lips against her ear. "Orgasm."
"I see love and you see sex, too bad we can't call the artist and ask
which of us is correct."
"Maybe we both are. Maybe she loved the orgasm. I know I do."
She chuckles and follows me to the next room.
We dine at a quiet bistro and continue our discussion about muses. "I
think it's just an overwhelming feeling that people get that makes them want
to create, and when it's not there, it's like losing a loved one." She says.
"I think it's always there if you open yourself up to it. You just have to
be willing to experience everything. Your fears, your hurts, your darkest
deepest desires. That's when you get free to be inspired. If you're always
looking for perfection, you miss the perfect moments that are found in the
middle of the imperfections." She chews on her thumbnail, considering
what I've said. "When you embrace everything Jordy, you'll hit a new level
in your painting."
 "Sounds like you're saying my virginity is holding me back."
"Nope, but your hesitancy to be sexy, even though you’re a virgin might
be."
"Sexy virgin. Sounds like a Halloween costume."
"It does, and a hot one, but I was thinking more along the lines of not
feeling like it's a badge of shame. So what you're not having sex. That
doesn't mean men won't find you sexy. Or that you can't be flirtatious and
dress like you're comfortable with your body."
"I think we can both agree that I am not sexy."
"You are. Understatedly so. I can show you how to slut it up if you
want."
She gulps her drink too fast and chokes. After a few wheezing breaths,
she shakes her head no. "I don't want to slut it up for randos."
"Good. You should never change to please everyone else. But if you
want to do it for you, I can help."
"And you think that will help my painting?"
"It couldn't hurt."
She puts her hands in her lap and drops her head as if talking to them.
"If I were interested, what would our first lesson be?"
I reach over, lifting her chin to look at me. The first thing men find sexy
is a woman who can make eye contact. "I'd take you shopping. Tell you to
buy something that makes you feel sexy, and I'd pick out something for you
too. Then we'd go somewhere and see how you feel in each one."
"Okay." She says after a long minute.
"Okay, what?" I ask, wanting her to articulate what she's agreeing to.
When this thing ends, the only person she'll have to blame for all the things
I'm going to do to her body, is herself.
"I agree to try your little shopping experiment."

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 CHAPTER THIRTY

"W hoa kiddo, what you got there?" Kassidy lowers her book and the
volume of the television when I walk through the door.
"I went shopping."
"I can see that. A little retail therapy to get over your breakup. I
approve, but will your account survive it?"
I grimace because I tried to buy these things, and Logan wouldn't let
me. "They were… You know what, never mind." It's weird and awkward to
tell her I let some man I'm barely acquainted with buy me a couple of
outfits. I drew the line at lingerie and told him I could buy and pick out my
own at a later date.
I show off the purchases before taking them to my room and hanging
them in my closet. When I'm done, I flop down on the bed, exhaustion
finally settling in. It's been a long week, and I had fun today with Logan,
but now that I'm alone in my room again, I stare at my phone, missing
Robbie.
Tiffany and Marina have been calling to check on me. They say he's
miserable, and that I owe it to him to hear him out after everything we've
been through. They're right. He's been there for me through a lot, but I'm
not ready to talk to him. Not yet.
I'm in the gym watching the cheerleaders practice while some guys play
a pickup game of basketball. Will from my World Culture and Poly-Sci
class catches a pass. Drives to the hole and stops at the baseline, sending up
a sweet fade-away. He turns and winks at me and I applaud.
 It's the game-winning shot, and both teams fought hard for it. He jogs
over to me and places his foot on the bleacher, leaning towards me. His
taper cut has just a hint of new growth to it and his sideburns extend down
to the ghost shadow of his beard. His teeth sparkle against the backdrop of
his dark skin. I feel my heart rate kick up slightly. It's been a while since
I've been single and I'm nervous about my first foray into flirting.
"I'm really digging the purple streak." I toy with the tips of my hair. It
was Kassidy's idea to go to the salon for a cut, and I did the dye job myself.
It took me two hours to perfect the color.
"So listen." He says. "I was thinking we could hit up the bowling alley
this weekend, and I could show you why they call me pins."
"You mean it's not because you're so tall and lanky. Straight up and
down like a pin?"
"Naw, baby. My length makes them call me something else." He winks
again and I can't help but laugh at the innuendo. It feels weird to be
laughing at this type of joke. I never would've before.
"So is it a date?"
Frankie steps into the gym and Will takes off towards the locker room
without waiting for my answer.
Two more guys come up to me, right before Hal and Tabitha step
through the door. Both guys take off like they hear their mother calling.
When the fourth person approaches, I stop him in his tracks. "If you're
about to ask me out. I'll say I'm flattered. But don't bother unless you're
willing to do it around the beautiful people." I give a pointed look to the
people sitting on the other side of the bleachers.
"I was. Shit. I really was planning to ask you out as soon as I heard your
weren't with that guy anymore. But we can't."
I turn my gaze back towards Logan's friends. "Because of them?"
"Yeah. That's also why you got stuck with Logan as your partner for the
research paper. He wouldn't let anyone else team up with you."
I don't hear anything else after, I got stuck with Logan. Other people
wanted to work with me and he manipulated the situation so they couldn't. I
shove my sketchbook into my bag and stand, stepping carefully over the
shirts, bags, and water bottles at my feet. "I need to go."
Tabitha and Hal exit the building before me. I see them crossing the
quad, heading towards the coffee shop. That's where I'm going too, because
that's where the BPs like to hang out.
 They're all here, Logan sitting in his spot in their booth, like he's
holding court. I push past the line of girls waiting for the chance to sit next
to him or on him, ignoring their yelps and screeches because I cut the line.
"We need to talk."
"I'm busy. Call you later?"
"Can't. I'm busy. I've got four dates lined up and I've given them each an
hour to show why they deserve a second one."
He bolts to his feet and on instinct; I step back. His hand ensnares my
wrist, and he tugs me across the floor, towards the alcove leading to the
back of the cafe, and into a dark corner. "Okay Jordy. You have my
attention."
"This won't take long, your highness, I just wanna know why your
dukes and duchess are interfering in my life."
"They're not. They're observing, making sure nobody bothers you. I
promised the bullying would stop if we became friends, they're enforcing
that rule."
"It's called interfering when it's affecting my social life. Don't pretend
like you haven't issued an edict that nobody can date me."
"I'm looking out for you. You just got out of a relationship, and you
need time. Besides, if a man doesn't have the balls to ask you out because I
hinted that they shouldn't, you don't want them, anyway."
"And our partnership for the paper. That was before I broke up with
Robbie. Why couldn't they sign up to work with me?"
He shrugs a shoulder, pulling on my purple streak. "You've got one of
the highest GPAs at school. My grades matter and I knew you'd pull your
weight." He looks up from my hair, raising a brow in question. "We have an
'A' paper. Right?"
He's right. Our collaboration is going well and I'm glad to be working
with him, but that doesn't excuse his meddling. "So, to be clear, I'm gonna
date whoever I want when I'm ready."
"Okay." He nods in agreement. I head towards the door so he can go
back to his friends. "As long as whoever is me."
I come to a screeching halt. "What?"
"If you're dating, you'll be going out with me."
"You're really tryna get that 10 minutes in hell do over, huh?"
Somehow he's managed to crowd me back against the wall, again.
"Trust me Jordy, I've gone to school with a lot of these guys, they're no
prize." He taps his temple. "Besides, I've got more to offer than a hot body."
I've seen the top half of his hot body. Those ripped muscles and that
sexy V of his adonis belt, and I’ve felt what his hands can do to my body.
But my mind still stalls when it comes to thinking about what's going on
with his lower half. I'm not ready to make that leap with anyone.
"I'm not ready to see anyone new, and even if I were, Logan, you are the
absolute last person I'd ever date."
He seems to be fascinated with my purple hair. He tugs it, forcing me to
look at him. His eyes blaze when I flinch, and a tingle runs down my spine.
"We'll see about that."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

T onight, the school's throwing a mixer for some of our biggest donors
and parents of potential students. The dean invited Jordanna because
having a scholarship student mingle with the reporters covering the event is
free PR.
She's wearing one of the dresses I picked out, a strapless number with a
sweetheart neckline. The bottom of it reaches mid thigh and those heels.
Fuck, she's a vision tonight. She topped the look off with her silky dark hair
pressed straight, flowing down her back.
I'm not the only one who notices how good she looks. Sterling Lang III,
who's always been an opportunist, walks right up to her and kisses her
cheek, placing a possessive arm around her. He's one of Noel's grad school
buddies and prowls the edge of the parties, picking off underclassman like a
sniper at a carnival. Jordanna seems to be happy on his arm. Smiling and
preening at the people he introduces her to.
He's trying to avoid having to interact with me, so I walk up to someone
he can't ignore, his father, and engage him in a conversation. Sterling
reluctantly makes his way over, introducing her to his father, laying it on
thick about her artistic talents.
"I wouldn't go touting her as the second coming of Michelangelo, just
yet." I caution. "We don't know if she'll be able to handle painting our
class's version of David next week."
Sterling gives her an affectionate smile. "I'm confident she'll do fine."
Bella and Frankie who were hovering nearby walk closer, insinuating
themselves in the conversation. Frankie pulls out his billfold. "And my
money's on her passing out or running away the moment his robe comes
off."
Bella opens her clutch. "Damn, charity, I almost didn't recognize you. I
think it's great Kassidy had something you could fit in her closet."
She hands her money to Frankie as if she didn't just insult Jordanna's
fashion choices. "Frankie, I'll take that bet." Her purse closes with a click.
"What about you, Logan?" She asks, slipping her arm around mine and
looking up at me through her long lashes. "You want in?"
"On whether or not Jordanna passes out her first time seeing a naked
man?"
Sterling pulls her away, sparing her from hearing my answer.

The first time I was here, I looked objectively at myself. The second time I
was trying to pull myself out of a funk after my breakup with Robbie.
Today, I came here to confront Logan about that shitty bet his friends were
making at the mixer, and after another lecture about me needing to push
past my mental block, I'm trying to convince myself to do something that
scares the shit out of me.
I walk over to the photography bench and pick up a camera. Holding it
out to him, hoping I can get through just one shot. He wraps his hand
around mine and pushes it away.
"How about you take the pictures?"
"Of myself? I already told you that won't work."
 He removes his smock and pushes up the sleeves on his sweater. "I
meant of me."
Shaking my head, I admit, “I can't do that either.”
"Sure you can. Tell me where you want me. How you want me. And I'll
do it."
I'm a photographer. I can totally snap a picture. But of him taking his
clothes off? He reads the hesitancy on my face.
"You only have to go as far as you're comfortable with."
I grip the camera and force the next words out. "Take off your shirt."
"Fast or slow?"
"Slowly." My voice is pitched higher than usual, and my hand shakes as
I fight to keep my nerves at bay.
I take a deep breath, finding him in the viewfinder. I tell myself not to
put the focus on him being shirtless. He's just my subject and I'm searching
for the perfect shot. I move around him, pulling in close on the indentation
on his back. The smooth swell on his shoulder. Every line, every vein on his
arm. I move him across the space, catching him in different shadows and
lights.
I point across the room. "Over by the window." I say. He travels the
length of the floor and waits. I snap a few photos as he's walking. Catching
him in movement like I would an animal in their natural habitat.
"Shift to your right." Now he's bathed in the light from the street lamp. I
dim the lights in the studio. Perfect.
"Angle your body toward the window."
"Like this?"
"Shoulder barely touching."
"Now face the window. You're looking out at something. Right hand
against the glass." I widen his stance a little. And slip into the space in front
of him. Taking pictures from the floor.
I stand behind him, sliding up his back one click at a time. I prop the
camera on his shoulder pushing his head to the side exposing his neck. I'm
close enough to see the stubble sprouting on his chin and zoom in on it.
"This is what's beautiful." I whisper to myself. He swallows thickly, and
I feel a buzz in the air. I press my thighs together, forcing myself to speak.
"I think I've got enough."
I pass him the camera and move towards my bag.
 He loads the card on his computer and scrolls through. "These are pretty
cool."
"I can go through them another time. But I think. Well, thanks. I can
probably look at a man's back without freaking out now."
"I'm glad I could help."
His hand encircles my wrist when I walk by, pulling me toward him.
His lips touch mine and just for a second I let myself be kissed. I turn my
head before it really gets any traction. "I'm sorry, I. I can't."
"Jordy."
I hurry to the elevator, even though I'm pretty sure he's not following
me.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

J ordanna is sitting on the other side of the lecture hall today. She makes
it a point not to be around me after our kiss, as if an audience would
ever stop me from trying again. Will and Tobias are sitting next to her,
and every few minutes one of them says something to make her laugh. It's
like she feels determined to talk to every guy she sees, since she knows that
I'm the reason no one would talk to her before.
"You guys couldn't've been more discreet about running those
knuckleheads off?"
Hal turns around in his seat. "Sure we could've. But they weren't being
so discreet plotting on her. Circling like vultures, ready to pick her newly
single carcass apart. They smell her innocence, its common knowledge
she's a virgin. That's a temptation that's hard to ignore."
Frankie tilts his head to the side, surveying the scene. "Dude, you're
gonna need to make your play before someone else does."
Bella nods, a gleeful smile twisting her lips. "Logan's never gonna be
able to get her to cave. He carries his own smell. The stench of a million
hoe bags. It's in his pores. Little Miss Priss will never let him touch her
delicate skin."
What Bella doesn't know. What none of them know is that she's already
touched my skin. Willingly. I had to stand there, enduring the torture of it.
Soft, unsure hands as she pulled and twisted me into position to get the
perfect shot. I was so hard my nuts ached. And her shy kiss. I wanted to
devour her mouth and would have if she hadn't pulled away when she did.
 I've been biding my time. Letting her get used to the idea of being
single. Exploring the world around her at her pace. Because once I claim
her, she'll get a crash course in surviving in mine. I flick my eyes to the
right, clenching my hands into fists. I'm going to need to remind Tobias and
Will about what happens when you defy me.

I'm in Jordanna's room, on her bed, when she gets back from dinner. "How
do you keep getting in here?"
"I have a key."
She holds out her hand, glaring at me. "Kassidy should stop giving it
out to you. What if I were naked and had a guy in here?"
"Yeah, I'm not worried about either of those things happening."
She flinches and I can see I struck a nerve and that she's second
guessing herself again. Shit. I rise from the bed, crossing over to her. "Let's
get one thing straight. Robbie is a fucking idiot. That's it. That's the only
problem that existed in that relationship."
I school my face into a mask, so she can't see how pissed off I am that I
have to overcome his bullshit. "I don't want to hear you blaming yourself,
or see this look of self doubt on your face, ever again. Understand?"
She nods.
"And the reason I'm not worried a guy is going to be in here, is because
they know to date you, they have to get through me. And nobody's going up
against me." I drop a quick kiss on her lips and go back to sitting on her
bed. "Let's go over the numbers." I say, as if that little exchange didn’t just
happen.

Little by little, I've been drawing Jordanna out of her shell. Today is the day
I push her to go further. When she arrives at the studio, I hand her an iPod
and headphones. "Paint what you hear, and whatever you do, don't stop.
Just keep painting."
I lay the large canvas out before her and step away as she gets to work. I
watch for a while, and when her hand stills, I know she's reached the part of
the playlist that will make her uncomfortable.
 "Keep painting." I remind her, picking up my camera to take candids of
her as she's working.
The way she bites her lip, the way her lashes sweep her cheeks. The
plane of her neck. Her full lips, and the pointed tips of her nipples through
her shirt. She swipes the back of her hand across her forehead leaving a trail
of green paint and I capture that too. I drop the camera and move to my
bench, needing to do something with my hands. She pauses to watch me
through the mirror, rolling and softening the clay with my hands and water.
Her strokes resume and I'm fixated on the intensity of her eyes. Our
eyes meet in the mirror, and I have to grip the desk against the need settling
in my gut. I continue to work the clay to counteract the illogical desire to
work her flesh.
The painting is taking shape. A tidal wave of need of her own. She
continues to arc and stroke and curve her lines, ebbing and flowing with the
crescendo of what she's hearing, until finally her brush stops moving
completely. I abandon my clay and move across the floor to wrap my arms
around her, holding her against me as she fights the tremor threatening to
cut through her.
"Please," she gasps.
I turn her to face me, kissing her thoroughly and completely, swirling
our tongues together in an erotic dance. She claws at my shirt and I whip it
over my head. The soundtrack is still playing. I lead her across the floor and
have her stand in front of me as I sit on the edge of the bed.
I lift her shirt, planting kisses on her taut stomach, before settling her on
my lap. I hold her close as she squirms against me. I'm intentionally
keeping myself from touching her any more than this, and I can tell it's the
first time she's been swept up in desire like this. So tightly wound that her
body betrays her control and even an inch of friction will help quench her
thirst.
I nudge her against me, my erection pressing against the seam of her
jeans, as I nuzzle her breast, palming it through the material of her shirt.
Her body arches toward me and she grinds against me, following her body's
cues. Her eyes are closed, and she's biting that full bottom lip. She's gonna
look magnificent riding me.
I place her hands on my chest and her eyes fly open as if suddenly
remembering where she is and what she's doing. Snatching the headphones
off, she scrambles off of my lap. "I need to go."
 I catch up to her at the door, caging her against it, the way I did that first
night in the bathroom. That first night my body knew what my mind hadn't
yet caught on to. I was attracted to her. My mouth is inches away from her
skin, my breath floating across the tiny hairs on the back of her neck.
"Please move your hand, Logan."
"Why?"
"I told you, I need to go."
"You're running, Jordy."
"Please." Her voice comes out in a soft plea. "I need to go. Now."
"Because you want me?"
She shakes her head and I know it for a lie. "Fuck Jordy, no lies tonight.
No hiding. I see what you painted. I know what's on that playlist, I made it."
"It's just a painting. It means nothing."
I force my hand inside her jeans and into her panties as I lean my weight
against her back, pushing her closer to the door. "Jordy, you're fucking
soaked, and that means everything."
Working my fingers inside her, my thumb presses against her swollen
bundle of nerves. "I know you want me, but you think it's wrong, and I
don't give a fuck. Every time you lie to me, deny what you're feeling around
me, it just makes me want to own this pussy even more."
I reach up with my other hand, squeezing her breast. Fuck, I love the
weight of it in my hand. "Are you going to keep lying to me, Jordanna?" I
piston my fingers in and out of her wet hole, curling, searching for that spot.
"Logan…" Her broken sob does nothing to sway me.
"Tell me you want me."
She shakes her head, refusing to answer. I kiss the back of her neck,
pressing my stiff cock against her ass. It's straining to be freed.
"Tell me, Jordy."
She rocks against my fingers, fighting for more and yet trying to pull
away. Her senses are on overload and I force myself to stop, even though a
part of me wants, no needs, to see her fall apart tonight. I step back, giving
her space to leave.
"Go!" I order. "Go now, before I take you up against this door."
Frankie's in my spot at the cafe, and I growl at him to move.
"What the hell's got you in such a foul mood?"
I wish I knew how to answer that question. Things with Jordanna were
progressing nicely, and then she just froze up on me. I certainly didn't
expect her to beg me to take her right then and there, but she can't even
admit she’s attracted to me or that there's a desire in her that needs to be
sated?
How far down the suppression route did this celibacy train go? It took
everything in me not to fuck her up against that door. That's how badly I
wanted her.
Patrick's mumbling something about getting laid, and I give a
noncommittal grunt in agreement. I do need to get laid, because there's no
version of events where I sit back and accept that some uppity virgin gave
me blue balls.
She comes into the cafe, eyes darting around. Her steps falter when her
eyes land on me. She gathers herself, straightens her back, and comes
closer. "Uh, can I talk to you for a minute?"
I nod my head.
"Alone."
I slide out the booth, following her outside. "What's up?"
She glances away, looking unsure of what to say or where to begin. I
wait while she debates whatever is going through her mind with herself.
Finally, she looks at me. "Okay, so here's the thing. I'm not sure what
happened the other night, and I know I sort of freaked out. But with Robbie
it was-"
"If you're about to put yourself down, I don't wanna hear it." I warn.
"Logan, I appreciate that you're trying to help me, but if it's because you
expect sex in return, I don't want to be that kind of friend."
"What kind of friend do you want to be Jordy?"
"The regular kind. I just got out of a relationship and I'm not ready for
anything new.”
How did we go from her riding my fingers to she wants me in the friend
zone? I have to play this smart, because if I push too hard, she'll shut down
on me.
"I'm sorry if it seemed like I was pressuring you. I got swept up in the
moment, too." I give her a playful smile. "That's what being young and
single is all about. You go as far as you want. Obviously, neither of us
intended for it to happen."
"Right. We didn't." She peeks up at me through her lashes. "So you're
not mad at me?"
"No. Of course not. Are you mad at me?"
She blushes, shaking her head.
"Okay then. We're still friends."
She breathes a sigh of relief and tells me she has to meet Kassidy for
dinner. With a quick wave, she heads towards the cafeteria. Friends, my ass.
The only acceptable outcome is Jordanna’s tight body underneath mine,
screaming my name, as I pound into her over and over again.

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 CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

I t's somebody's birthday, and I'm Kassidy's plus one. She convinced me
to come out by telling me the food and drinks are already paid for. That's
the only reason I'm about to order something off the menu that would take
months for my account to rebound from.
That sense of awareness runs down my spine. I look up from the menu
in time to see Logan walking through the doors. I was looking forward to an
evening off campus, away from the stress and worry about whether I'm
doing enough to get my name in front of the right teachers and faculty, so
they'll write glowing letters of recommendation for me. I'm also tired of
obsessing about if I'm doing enough to stay invisible to everyone else.
But Logan's here, getting seated at a table with Shauna and his friends. I
feel his eyes on me as he follows his group to their table.
Things have been sort of stilted between us since that night at his studio.
I thought clearing the air would help, but I still don't know how to act
around him. Maybe it's just me projecting my unease on him, because I feel
conflicted about what happened.
"I thought I was escaping the BP's tonight." I whisper in Kassidy's ear.
"I did too." She links her arm through mine. "Ignore them. We're here to
have some good food, and free drinks. And if you play your cards right, you
just might get lucky at the end of the night."
She wiggles her brows and makes a loud kissing noise in the air.
"Lucky better be ice cream."
"Mint chocolate and those cookies you like."
 My mood settles and I resolve to have a good time. Kassidy's right. I
shouldn't let Logan and his friends being in the same building ruin my
night.

I swipe at the corner of my mouth, hiding a smile. I've been having great
time so far listening to the people around the table tell stories about the trips
they've been on together and apart and some of the crazy antics they've
gotten into. My mouth gapes open listening as the person across from
Kassidy gushes about how much fun she had at her parents' retreat.
Kassidy turns to me. "Don't worry, I'll take you with me on one of our
breaks and make sure you have a great time too. I promise."
I feel my cheeks getting heated, and someone teases, "Awe, you made
Jordanna blush."
A flurry at the end of the table draws my attention. My back stiffens as a
chair scrapes across the floor and rights itself next to me. The wait staff is
pushing another table closer, and I realize Logan and his friends are joining
us.
"Holding hands probably makes her prudish ass blush." Bella says,
taking the previously vacant seat across from me. Logan is next to her and
Shauna's practically sitting in his lap.
He can barely meet my eyes. Nope, not projecting. Things are weird.
The guy is telling me about the sand and beach and how warm the water
is on your skin. A perfect paradise oasis, with all the nakedness you can
take.
"It's a nudist colony?" I ask.
"It's a place where you're encouraged to do what feels right for you,"
Kassidy corrects. "Nudity is optional and only during certain lectures or
classes."
"Oh."
"Again, not something charity has to worry about." Olivia, cackles.
"And why is that?" I ask.
"Cause you're a freak and not in a sexually good way. You were in a
closest with Logan and came out fully clothed. Girl, anyone else would
have been letting him fuck the shit out of them, even after the door opened.
But you just walked out like it was no big deal."
"I had a boyfriend."
 "Nobody gives a shit. It's Logan. Fucking. McKay. And I hear your
boyfriend had no such issues getting his."
Shauna nods her head, narrowing her eyes at me. "Have you even seen a
dick before?" She looks around the table. "I've got a C-Note for the first
person to whip it out right here and give the Prudish Princess a look at her
first dick." She looks around the table? "No? Three hundred?"
"Shauna." Logan squeezes her thigh to get her attention.
She leans against him, rubbing her hand up and down his chest, and
continues raising her offer. "Four. Okay, five hundred."
The guys push back from the table, hands on their pants, I see and hear
the zippers going down. I make the mistake of looking up, and turn my
head, only to find someone standing next to me with his pelvis in my face.
What in the holy hell? Pushing back from the table, I grab my purse and run
to the front of the restaurant.
Barbarians. That's the only way to describe them. Barbarians in Prada
purses and Armani suits. I step from under the protection of the awning,
into the heavy drops of water coming from the sky.
It's fitting. Of course, a disastrous night will end with the time I spent
straightening my hair, going to waste.
"Jordanna!" A voice calls from behind me. I ignore it, focused on my
destination. I turn left, the click of my heels accompanied by the splatter of
the rain as it hits the pavement.
I hear his footsteps behind me, because of course my humiliation won't
be complete until he catches me breaking down. Well, I won't give any of
them the satisfaction.
"Jordy, stop."
I tune out his voice. I'm almost to the bus stop. There should be one any
second now.
"Jordanna, I said fucking stop!”
His order cuts through the air and my back goes ramrod straight. For
some reason my feet listen and I'm unable to move. Oh, no. This is bullshit
and I'm not about to stand for it.
I take a deep breath and continue walking. I'm nobody's submissive
puppy. Fuck him, his fake offer of friendship, and his orders. He's truly no
better than the rest of them, and I'm sorry I ever allowed myself to believe
he was.
 Logan's freakishly long legs quickly catch up to me, but I keep walking
as if he's not there. As I approach the corner, I realize that if I wait for the
bus, I'll be forced to listen to him, so I decide to keep on walking. Three
miles in heels won't kill me, right?
Well, someone must be watching out for me, because as soon as I step
in the street a car pulls up. Noel rolls down the window and the passenger
door opens. Yes. I slide into the warm leather seat, close the door, and snap
my seatbelt. We take off, smothering Logan and his useless explanation in
the smoke from the car’s exhaust.
Noel drops me in front of the dorm and reluctantly accepts my
insistence that I don't need an escort to my room. As soon as I round the
corner, I regret my decision to let Noel drive away, because Logan’s here,
waiting for me.
"You've got some nerve, running out into the rain and riding off in
Noel's car, when I'm trying to talk to you."
"I can do what the hell I want with my friends, just like you can do what
you want with yours. Or did you expect me to sit there and listen to
everyone demean me and my choices once again?"
I stab my finger into his chest. "And you said nothing, when they were
all about to pull their dicks out in a literal dick comparing competition.
What was taking you so long to join in? Huh? Some damn friend you are."
Glaring, I step around him to get to my room. "Go away, Logan."
I let out a small yelp when my back presses against the wall.
"I tried to do this your way. Now we're doing it mine."
"Wha-?"
My question is cut off by the feel of his mouth crashing into mine. The
weight of his hand on the back of my head holding me to him and the smell
of him filling my nose. Overwhelming. Manly.
He smells like rain and pine. Paint and clay. He's creative. A creator.
Each swipe of his tongue turns me into his design. The kiss sweeps me
away, tearing me apart and reforming me the way he wants. He’s
Pygmalion and I’m Galatea.
The sound of chatter behind us doesn't stop his assault on my mouth. He
pushes us into the darkened corner of the hall where the light is out.
My body is buzzing from his touch and a tightness pulls in my lower
belly. I shouldn't be feeling this. Enjoying this. But god, his mouth and taste
and touch are making me crave things. Crave him. In a terrifying way. He
hitches my leg up, grinding his pelvis against me.
The bulge of his erection digs into my stomach, and I feel myself
getting wet. Why is this happening? Now? With him?
Wedging his thigh between my legs, he applies pressure to my already
aching center. I shift against it; the friction eliciting an unbidden moan from
somewhere deep inside of me. His mouth and teeth find my shoulder and
then his head dips. He palms my breast over the top of the dress, his thumb
teasing my nipple into a hardened peak.
His mouth encircles my nipple. Logan teethes and nips at me, the thin
material is a futile barrier between his tongue and my skin. With each pull,
my core clenches. I'm dropped in the middle of every sensation, churning
within a sea of need, drowning to it. He grabs my hips, pulling me closer,
grinding his dick against me.
I need to stop this. I open my mouth to object. "Logan, oh god. O-,"
His fingers have worked their way into my panties. They're inside me,
turning and twisting before pulling out, only to push back inside again. I
feel full and achy, needing more. My walls clench around his fingers. He
slams them into me again and again, pushing me to the edge.
"That's it baby, cum for me."
My mouth freezes as wave after wave crashes into me. Over me.
Through me. It's a ripple that starts at the top of my head and bottom of my
feet simultaneously and converges in the middle. My body locks up so tight
I fear I'll be stuck this way forever.
Slowly my feet return to the ground. I’m barely cognizant of him
getting me to my room, and telling me goodnight. I slip out of my clothes,
hanging the dress back in the closet and putting my shoes in their box.
Under the hot shower stream, I finally come out of my haze.
What was I thinking, letting him touch me like that? Why did I let
Logan McKay, who switches between helping me and helping his friends
torment me, make me fall apart for him? Even now, under the spray, my
body is humming, wanting something it's never had. Robbie and I haven’t
been broken up for that long. Am I starved for attention or was I determined
to prove his friends wrong about being frigid? I never cared about things
like that before.
I recall the dirty things Logan said to me at his studio. The feel of his
hands on me, the smell of his skin, like soot and clay and mint, and I hear
the sounds of that playlist in my head. The moans and cries and the raw
need in the man's voice as he told his lover how good she made him feel.
Logan was touching me, but he didn't seem to be overcome with need.
If anything, he was pissed that I walked away from him. Hasn't he said it's
the fight that he's attracted to?
Will I ever be able to drive a man to the level of desire in that song? To
make him so overcome that his voice is a strangled plea to be set free?
I thought I knew who I was. I thought I knew what I wanted. But Logan
McKay is forcing me to look outside the drab lines I've painted for myself.

Logan and I need to set some ground rules. What happened at the studio
and the other night when he followed me back to the dorms, can't happen
again.
He looks up from his phone and smiles. "Hey."
I mumble a hello quickly followed by, "I'm glad you came to class early
today."
"Couldn't wait to see me, huh?"
"Logan, the other night."
"You looked beautiful."
"Huh?"
"At the restaurant in the dress, we picked out. You looked beautiful."
"I didn't think you noticed."
"I noticed everything, and I know things with Shauna got out of hand.
She went too far."
"Yes, and so did we."
The muscle in is jaw ticks. "What do you mean?"
"I thought I made it clear, that I only wanted to be friends. You can't
touch me and kiss me like you did. Not again. Things between us have to
remain completely platonic. I mean it."
"Or what Jordy?"
"Or I'm going to ask the teacher to assign me a new partner."
"It's too late and we'll fail if we don't work together."
"Then we'll fail, or have to work virtually, because I won't be around
you again outside of class if you can't agree to this."
 He smirks at me. "Jordanna, do you think outside of class is the only
time I'd be able to get you off? Because I can assure location is not an issue
for me."
I arch a brow, gathering my books to move to the back of the class.
"Fine, Jordy. Fine. I took things too far. I shouldn't have gotten carried
away. We both were drinking, and it was an intense situation. I. I'm sorry."
"Just friends, Logan. No more touching me, or kissing me."
The class begins to fill up and I move to the back, because I don't trust
him to act like a human being around his friends.

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 CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

I 'm bored within the first thirty minutes of the party we're at. It's all
irritating as hell. The song selection, the bar options, and the company.
But, I have nothing better to do, so here I am, doing something I hardly ever
do. Drinking to forget about a woman. A woman who I know all these
fucktards are plotting on. Shauna's little bidding war at Quinnlyn's party last
weekend set off a chain reaction. The pot is up to a grand on who's going to
be bold enough to show Jordanna their cock.
They want her, and the only thing keeping them at bay is knowing that
I've decided to claim that prize between her legs for myself. But that won't
hold them off forever. Especially since they know she's trying to keep me in
the friend zone.
She looked sexy as hell when she came around my fingers and thinks
her little reminder of us being friends or her threat to jeopardize our grade is
enough to keep me from making her shatter for me again. It's not. But I've
been giving her space to work through it.
I finish my beer and motion for someone to bring me another. It's gonna
be a long night.

I bang on the door, waiting for someone to let me in. Somehow Jordanna's
convinced Kassidy and the front desk to stop giving out their room key.
Kassidy finally answers in her Smurf PJ's. "Thanks Kassidy. Where is she?"
"Who?"
 I look suspiciously around the living area. "What took you so long to
answer the door? You let her sneak somebody in here?"
"Jordanna?" She scoffs. "Please, you know she would never do that, but
tell me, why do you care?"
I push the door open to Jordy's room and eye her bed, looking for the
outline of someone curled up next to her. I'm satisfied that it's empty, but
instead of leaving, I toe off my shoes, remove my shirt and crawl into bed
beside her.
I wake in the middle of the night, unsure of where I am. When I see her
on her stomach next to me, I remember why I came here tonight.
I was at that fucking party, drinking, and overheard one too many
assholes talking about her. Boasting that as soon as I'm not looking, they'll
take their shot. Good luck getting through me, fuckers.
Jordy might not be ready to admit it yet, but her ass is mine. I grab her
hip, pulling her against me. Pleased at the gasp she makes when our bodies
connect. I plan to make that sound come out so many more times before I'm
done with her.
She tenses against me, and I draw a lazy pattern against her hip to calm
her down. "Didn't mean to startle you."
She sits up and I can tell her forehead is creased the way it always is
when she looks at me. As if she's outlining my features before putting her
brushes to canvas. When she looks at me that way, it unnerves me. As if she
can see me beyond all the bullshit.
"Why are you in my room, Logan?"
"I'm tired. Go to sleep." I command, pushing her back against the
pillow. I settle her against me, my hand shoved between the warmth of her
thighs. My leg over hers to prevent her from moving away. Now I dare
someone to come for a late night booty call.
"Are you drunk?"
"No, and even if I was, I'd still be able to fuck you sideways. Now go
back to sleep before I do it."
She tries to wiggle away. "I am not going-"
I free myself from my pants, pressing my erection against her. "This is
what your challenge is doing to me. I'm here in your bed, Jordy. Keep
fucking talking. It just gets harder." I can't help myself. I rock against her
again, cupping my hand around her sex.
"Please, don't."
 "Don't what? Push you over the edge again?" My voice loses its sting
and I'm genuinely curious when I ask her. "Why not? Didn't you like it?"
"Yes, but, we can't. We agreed to keep this platonic. We're friends."
"Friends?" I rasp. "How can you even think the word when we're this
close? When I can feel the heat from your skin." She moves against my
hand. She says no, but her body craves my touch. "You're already halfway
there, aren't you?"
I press harder on her clit and shift my shoulders, fisting myself, coating
my length with my pre-cum. "I am too Jordy."
"You are?" She gasps as I stroke her swollen nub.
"Oh yeah. Turn around so you can see what you're doing to me." She
hesitates, then slowly shifts in bed, rolling over onto her side. She watches
me as I run my hand up and down the length of my shaft.
I don't make a habit of jerking off, I don't have to, because the shortest
distance between me and an orgasm is straight through a pussy. But hers
isn't a channel I can navigate just yet. Still, I need a release, and her
watching me will do. She's got plenty of skin to coat.
"Take over." I place my hand on top of hers, guiding it towards my
shaft. The annoying blare of her phone startles her. She snatches her hand
away, turning towards her nightstand to answer it.
I lean up on my elbow, narrowing my eyes at the offending device. Who
the fuck is calling her at this hour?
"Robbie, it's late." She whispers into the receiver. "Yeah, I know, but I'm
still not ready to talk about it." She sits up, sliding her legs over the edge of
her bed. Her back to me, shutting me out. "No, I swear. I'm not seeing
anyone."
I control the urge to snatch the phone from her hand and letting Robbie
know there's a man currently in her bed. Instead, I straighten my clothes and
leave.
She was clinging to me before he called, rubbing her soaking wet pussy
against me. Now, she's trying to soothe his battered ego.
If she has to pretend she doesn't want it, paint me into the role of
someone forcing this need upon her, fine. I’ll play my part for a little while
longer, but soon, she'll have no choice but to admit, that the aching need she
feels will only be satisfied when I bury my cock in her virgin cunt.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

A nother night, another function. The artificial laughter and merriment

around the room grates my nerves. This is a sham. The hand shaking,
back patting, and air kisses are bullshit. I hate these types of social
functions but I'm here, representing my father and McKay Media while he's
away on a business trip. Lynette finishes her conversation with Kate
Sheppard and rejoins me at our table.
"So?"
She picks up her drink and nods. "You were right. The happy couple is
in therapy and it's not going well."
"You didn't happen to catch a name, did you?"
She slides her mini tape recorder from her purse. "Better than that, I
have an address." I hold out my hand, but she keeps it out of reach. "Nah,
ah, ah. It's gonna cost you."
I bring Lynette with me to these types of events because she's beautiful,
fun and articulate, and has a way of getting the best tidbits out of the guests.
We've had this arrangement for three years, and I know that there's always a
price to pay. Sometimes it's money. Sometimes, it's an exchange of
information. Negotiating is always fun.
"Okay. Name your price."
The excitement I was feeling about this deal is tempered by Noel's
appearance with his date. Jordanna.
What the hell are they doing here, together? I put on my social air when
they get closer, introducing Jordanna to Lynette, who Noel has met before.
They move away quickly, my eyes burning a hole in the back of his head.
 He keeps Jordy close, his hand on her lower back, leaning in to listen to
her talk. A perfect gentleman. A perfect date. It takes all my control not to
walk over there and snatch her away. Doing so would cause a scene.
Something I can't afford to do as my dad's proxy.
I finally get her alone and immediately voice my displeasure about her
showing up here with him. "What are you doing here with Noel?"
"Not this again."
"He's your TA, it's unprofessional to socialize outside of school."
"Yet he shows up at the parties we're at, and it seems he knows the same
people here that you do. I doubt this is his first time at an event like this."
"Our parents run in a few of the same circles. We're expected to see
each other. You're not."
She glares at me. "Money. It always comes down to money with you
people. You don't give a damn about why I'm here, you're just worried that
I'm bringing down the monetary value of the folks in the room, because I'm
not a trust fund brat. Typical, Logan."
She storms off towards the hallway. Dammit. Why can't she sit still and
have a conversation without running away? I catch her at the door, pulling
her into the room on the left. "Don't touch me."
"Listen, up Jordanna, because this is the last time I'm going to say this.
Stop fucking running from me and stop accusing me of being so wrapped
up in the almighty dollar that I can't see you for anyone other than the
school's scholarship student."
Her chin juts out, eyes flashing. "Well, that is how you see me, isn't it?
Poor Jordanna. The school's pathetic charity case."
I kiss her to shut her up. And keep kissing her, because I can't stop
myself. We break apart, her eyes wide, lips swollen and trembling, and I
kiss her again, going to battle with her tongue, demanding she give in to
this thing between us. I slant my mouth over hers, deepening our kiss.
She pushes against my chest, and I pull away, burying my nose in her
hair, placing fluttering kisses along her neck. "You make me crazy, you
know that?"
"Stop, Logan."
I step away. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes filled with desire, and for
the life of me I can't figure out why she insists on making everything harder
than it needs to be. She broke up with the boyfriend weeks ago and still acts
like she owes him a commitment.
 Bella knew what she was doing when she gave me this bet. This
woman's libido is harder to unlock than a cyber security expert's password.
I'm not used to working this hard for pussy and would have quit trying by
now, if the VP position wasn't at stake. And there's no way in hell I'm letting
Noel capitalize on my hard work.
"Jordanna, I know you want me. So tell me, why can't we be together?"
"Logan, you promised, we'd be friends."
"I can't just be your friend Jordy. Not when every time you touch me, I
feel like I'm crawling out of my skin."
I grab for her again, kissing her hard. She's shaking against me.
Whimpering into my mouth. Her hands pull me close and I grip the hem of
her dress, pushing it upward as I kneel in front of her kissing and nipping
her thighs inhaling the scent of her. "Dammit Jordy. Your scent is
intoxicating."
"Logan, what. What are you doing?"
"A taste. Please. Baby. Just a small taste."
I lick her through the delicate lace of her panties, seeking her hidden
bud. My tongue locates it and I suck it into my mouth.
"Oh god." Her ragged groan encourages me to continue. I move her
panties to the side, running my tongue against her slit. Kissing along her
folds. Sucking her essence into my mouth. My lips, teeth and tongue tease.
My fingers impale her and soon she's riding my fingers the way I dream
about her riding my cock.
"Are you feeling friendly towards me now, Jordanna? Or are you
thinking about how good this feels. About what it would be like to have me
inside you?"
She bites down on her lips to keep her secrets from escaping, and I
return my attention to the fire I'm stoking within her.
"Your virginity is safe tonight. But I'm still going to own your pleasure."
I bring her to the brink and back off. Over and over again. I hear the
broken sobs and disjointed cries and still I refuse to let her release.
"Please." She begs. "Logan, please."
"Please what Jordanna? Please have mercy on you?" I reach up to pinch
her nipple, giving it a hard twist. "Please don't make you so delirious with
pleasure that you can't think straight?" I nibble on her earlobe. "Or please
don't make you admit to yourself that you want me to fuck you up against
this wall and that the only reason you're saying no is because you fear what
it would mean, for your good girl image, to want me like this?"
"I'm not scared."
"Liar." I hiss.
I look up at her as I bring her to the edge again. "Beg me Jordy."
"No."
I stand to my feet, slowing the movement of my fingers. "Beg me to let
you cum or I'm sending you back to Noel like this. Back to all those people
you're trying to impress. How articulate do you think you’ll be walking
around so aroused that even the slightest touch might make you cum?"
She's struggling to move air in and out of her lungs. "I'll leave you like
this and I'll go home with my date and find satisfaction. Filling her with my
cock." I pump my fingers in and out. "Beg me Jordy."
"No.”
I release her body and push away, straightening my clothes. She's
stubborn and proud, and I wanna shove my cock in her mouth for telling me
no. To see if she can get the word out around me stuffing her throat. "Wrong
answer."

Logan made good on his threats. He left me there, a panting, wet mess, and
went home with his date before the night was even over. He hasn't spoken
more than two words to me since. I made it through the rest of the mixer
without making a fool of myself, and took a nice long shower when I got
back to the dorms, to get my body under control, and yet; I still managed to
wake up with my sheets twisted around my waist and my hand between my
legs.
I take a seat in the back of the class, putting space between Logan and
myself. Turns out I didn't need to go through so much trouble. When he
steps through the door, he has a girl on each arm and his usual entourage
bringing up the rear.
I seethe when he lets them take the empty seats next to him and fight the
urge to snatch them by their hair, when they kiss him on his cheeks. Mostly
I'm mad at myself that I almost fell for his lies.
Obviously, the taste of me wasn't all that overwhelming after all. He's
clearly on to the next ones. Good. Now I can go back to focusing on my
studies without having to entertain his silly attraction to me.

I get to art class early and take my time setting up my brushes. The model is
already here. I offer her a small smile. She smiles back and I drift closer,
pushing my nervousness aside to ask her a question. The robe she's wearing
slips, my gaze falls to her shoulder. I can see the indentation of her clavicle
and the curve of her neck better. I offer an apology when she catches me
staring.
"No apologies needed. Staring is sort of the point of the class."
Noel comes in and we all talk a few more minutes while the other
students get settled. I take my seat, ignoring Logan's penetrating gaze.
I'm calm, and centered, and talking to the model has somehow
humanized her. She's more than body parts, and now, I can see her as a
person. Just as interesting as anyone I've encountered in the park.
I focus on that as I pick up my tools to paint. I get lost in the music in
my ears, the subject in front of me and the colors on my canvas. A hand
squeezes my shoulder and I'm vaguely aware of Noel's encouragement.
"Good work, Jordanna."
It's not perfect, but it is better than all of my other work. We switch to a
male model next class and I refuse to let my discomfort continue to
paralyze me. I'll talk to him too and then disengage from what I'm doing,
just focusing on bringing the art forth, just like today.
I stay behind to talk to a few students and feel a chill when I step
outside to see Logan waiting for me. "Jordanna."
 "I already sent my inputs to your email." I say without turning around to
look at him. I meant what I said about our partnership. If he can't respect
my boundaries, I don't want to see him outside of classes.
He grabs my arm, and I snatch it away as if burned by the flames of
hell. He's certainly a hell beast. Seductive one second, vindictive the next.
"Don't ever touch me again."
"That's not what you were saying the other night."
"Bastard!"
He's immediately contrite. "Jordy, I'm sorry. God, I'm trying to
apologize and you always have to make things so combative."
"I don't need your apology. I just want you to stay away from me."
Noel frowns, walking over to us. "Jordanna, is everything alright?"
Logan cuts his eyes at Noel and sneers, "This doesn't concern you,
Noel."
"I wasn't talking to you, Logan." Noel snaps back. He looks down at
me, concern etched along his angular features. "Jordanna?" He gently tucks
a hair behind my ear.
"Get your hands off of her, Noel."
"Jordanna, are my hands on you making you uncomfortable?"
"No. Not at all."
"Jordy." Logan growls. "I'm warning you."
"Oh, bite me, Logan. You are such a hypocrite. Didn't you go home with
Lynette the other night? I bet her hands were on you in some interesting
places."
Noel nods. "With his reputation, and their history, I bet they were too."
That confirms what I thought about the two of them. Noel slips his arm
over my shoulder. "I'm heading to the library. Walk with me and we can
discuss the work you did today. It was amazing."
He ushers me down the path, commenting on how I seemed more
relaxed today, and the crisp lines of my painting.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

I 'm seething because Noel interrupted my chance to fix things with

Jordanna. I taunted her with my threat to fuck Lynette. She was willing,
but I couldn't go through with it.
I wanted to tell Jordy nothing happened, and then Noel swooped in,
validating her fears. I'm sitting on the couch in her living room, trying to
respect her boundaries, though everything in me wants to go into her room
and nut all over the bed. Like a fucking animal marking his territory.
She's on the phone when she walks in, takes one look at me and goes
straight to her room, closing the door. I hear the lock slide into place. She's
shutting me out, and that only makes me want to break down the door and
pin her on the bed as I have my way with her.
I bang on the door. I don't give a shit who's on the other line. If it's
Robbie, I want him to hear me. "Jordy, we need to talk."
"I have nothing to say to you."
"Well, I have plenty to say to you, so open this fucking door."
"Logan, how many times do I have to tell you to leave me the hell
alone? Get it through your head, I don't like you and I don't want to see
you."
"If you don't open this door, you'll be sorry."
 She doesn't answer and I can't finish this conversation, because I have a
meeting I need to be at on the other side of the campus. I'm fuming that she
keeps defying me. And turned on by her refusal to give in.

"Oh, shit." Tabby groans next to me.

"What?"
I follow the direction of her hand and my heart stutters to a stop. How
the hell did she get in here? This was an invitation only event with a very
limited guest list. Tobias and Will are with her, and I see Bella smirking at
the other end of the booth. Shit. She's manipulating the game.
My eyes follow Jordy around the spiral staircase as she climbs to the
VIP level and settles next to the bar. This is not the place for her. I bolt from
my seat, stalking over to where she stands, slipping my hand around her
wrist, and pulling her onto the dance floor.
"What are you doing? Let go."
"I feel like dancing."
"Generally people ask, before dragging me on the floor."
"I'm not general people, and I'm not asking you shit. You're here
wearing a dress I brought, I think that entitles me to a dance."
"I'm not your whore, I'm going to pay back the money you spent, and if
you're so pressed about this dress, you can have it back."
Shit, that didn't come out the way I meant it. "I didn't mean it like that. I
don't want the dress back." I peer down at her. "You look fucking amazing
in it, just like I knew you would. I just wanna dance."
She looks towards the booth where I was sitting. "With you, Jordanna. I
want to dance with you."
"Logan, do you even know how to dance?"
"Are you asking because I went to private school?"
"I'm asking because you're usually sitting at parties."
I hold out my hand. "Dance with me Jordy, please."
She sways a little, still skeptical about my intentions. "I am dancing."
"You're standing here afraid to move. I wanna feel you moving against
me. Make me want you. Make me so insanely needy for you that I'll go to
bed dreaming of the way you feel against me."
 "Why would you want that when I keep telling you nothing is ever
happening between us?"
"Because I like you. I'm attracted to you, and apparently I'm a masochist
because even knowing you're gonna reject me in the end, I want to be close
to you."
I turn her away so she's not looking at me, hoping that will put her more
at ease. I wrap my arms around her, noticing how stiff she is. Refusing to
relax in my embrace.
"I didn't fuck Lynette after the party, I dropped her home and I went to
my studio to paint and work of steam. I was an ass for suggesting I would
do anything other than that."
She relaxes a little, and I pull her closer. We turn in a slow circle. Her
ass grazing me again and again as she gets into the music. I turn her to face
me, and she tries to put some distance between us when my erection pokes
against her stomach, but I refuse to let her put this space between us.
"Logan…"
"Deal with it, Jordy. This is what you do to me. Every. Damn. Time."
Her breath hitches as I pull her closer. I keep us pressed together, a
satisfied smirk crossing my lips when her body melts into mine. Her fists
grip my shirt, then her arms slip around my neck. I can feel her trembling in
my arms.
I bend my head to her neck, teasing the skin in the hollow of her throat.
Her head tilts to the side, a sexy little moan escapes her lips. We're moving
as one, and I feel her tentatively rub against me. That's it, Jordy. I think to
myself. Listen to your body.
"Logan," I shrug off the tap on my shoulder. "Logan!"
"What the fuck?"
Hal's frowning at me, pointing at his watch. Shit. I lost track of time.
"Jordanna, there's a car out front. Take it back to campus and I'll talk to
you tomorrow."
"I'm not leaving."
Hal's eyes widen, and he elbows me in the ribs. "She's staying for the
after hours?"
Jordanna gives me a questioning look, and I respond with a look of my
own. No, she will not be staying for that. She ignores my look, slips out of
my arms and steps closer to Hal. "What's the after hours?"
"Jordanna…" I don't want to get into another fight with her. Not here.
 I tell Hal I'll be over in a second and escort Jordanna off the dance floor.
"Oh. I get it."
"Get what?" I turn to see her attention drawn to two women standing by
the door.
"People you've slept with, I presume."
"Not in over a year."
"At the same time?"
"It happens."
"Is after hours usually when it happens?" She asks in her cub reporter
voice.
"That's why you're going home."
"So that you can stay and have sex, after I warmed you up?"
I scrub a hand through my hair. I don't want to lie to her, but I also don't
want to give her another reason to spout that bullshit about wanting to be
friends again. "I'll probably just watch."
"Watch?" She pales, taking a step away from me.
I hate having to explain myself, but I do. “There's an alternative fashion
shoot going on. Sometimes the models are fully clothed. Sometimes they
wear less clothes. Almost always, somebody hooks up and they don't
always feel like waiting until the shoot is over. I'm one of the photographers
on schedule for tonight, so I apologize for having to cut our evening short."
She's staring at the models, and swivels her head, taking in the expanse
of the club. "You do it in here?"
"There's a studio next door."
She works her lower lip the way she does when she's concentrating, and
I brace myself for another tirade about what an asshole I am. "Jordy?"
"I'll help."
Of all the things I expected her to say, that wasn't it. "I appreciate the
offer, but I know you’re uncomfortable with nudity, and as your friend I
can't let you be a part of this. Go back to campus. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Isn't this what we're already supposedly working on? Getting me
comfortable around different points of undress? What's better than fully
immersing myself?"
I fold my arms across my chest. "There will be men in there, Jordanna."
There, that'll send her running for the car.
"Are you taking your clothes off?"
"No." I arch a brow out that question. "I'm here strictly for work."
 "Would I have to take my clothes off?"
I was almost flaccid and her asking that and the immediate visual of
what that could look like, undid all my work. "Fuck no."
"Then what's the problem? You said it's a photo shoot and I'm a
photographer too. Or is photo shoot code for porn?"
My lips twitch. She's trying to sound unbothered but the blush on her
cheeks give her away. "It's a very tasteful shoot for a body conscious
magazine. The designer is incredible, but yes, varying bits of nudity will be
happening."
She nods, looking at the side door again. "Then I want to support body
positivity too."
She's not backing down, and this would be one way to see if she can
handle what's coming next. I feel a surge of pride that she's trying to take
control of her fear. Grabbing her hand, I pull her towards the door. "Stick
close to me. Do what I say, and no wandering off."
"Why? Are you afraid I might see a something I like and decide to give
up my virginity tonight?"
My steps grind to a halt. Whirling around, I grip her neck, forcing her
face up to look at me. I smash my mouth against hers, biting down on her
lip, not caring that I've pressed hard enough to draw blood. Her eyes are
wild when we break apart.
"Just to be clear, Jordy, your fucking cherry belongs to me."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

W ith our hands interlinked, Logan and I step through the curtain, so
to speak. The door at the end of the hallway leads to a set of stairs
and descends into a cavernous space. It's back-lit like a studio, so it's way
too bright to be called a basement or dungeon, but the shadowy recesses
certainly give it an illicit feel.
He said it's a body positivity campaign and I'm pleased to see the
models encompass all shapes, sizes and ethnicities. It's beautiful and
liberating and a bit unnerving. Most of them still have their clothes on, and
I fight hard not to show I'm bothered by the ones who don't.
I see a few of the guys checking me out and Logan drags me back
towards the camera equipment, grumbling under his breath about doing too
good a job at picking out my dress. The artistic director walks in, gives
instructions, and the shoot begins.
It's a lot like what I imagine a movie production would be like. He calls
cut and action and tells the models how to move, where to put their hands,
how much side boob to show. He gets right up on them and puts the focus
on the curve of the guy's ass as he simulates a sexual move. At some point I
become concerned it's not simulated at all.
As the shoot progresses, the models loosen up more and more, and I
understand the reason Logan says sometimes the chemistry moves off
camera. If the hard-bodied guy with the tattoos and man bun was burying
his head in my neck and clasping my hands above my head with one hand
while his other hand is on my left butt cheek, I might want to see where
things lead in real life too.
 The longer we're here, the less nervous I feel. Well, not nervous about
seeing the flesh at least. But there is a new set of nerves swirling around in
my stomach. A fluttering interest. A curiosity. A desire pooling in my belly
to know what it would feel like to be this free.
We work until five am, and my feet are killing me even though I ditched
my heels within thirty minutes after the start of the shoot. Running back and
forth handing the photographers lenses and helping the assistants set up
lights and getting the models to and from their dressing areas, is hard on the
feet. But I loved every single minute of it.
We're in the car heading back to school. I tilt my head back against the
seat and Logan says, "You did good tonight, Jordy."
"I know my way around a studio and camera. Painting is just my
passion."
"I know. But I meant, with the models. You didn't seem nervous."
"I wasn't. It was fun, and it felt empowering."
He slips his arm across the back of the seat, scooting closer, and I let
him pull me against him, resting my head against his shoulder. He presses a
kiss to the top of my head and the thump of the tires lull me to sleep. In my
dreams, Logan's ghosting his hand up my leg, inching them closer to my
damp center.
His fingers stroke me and tease me, as he encourages me to agree to his
request. He wants me to beg, to let go and free fall with him into the abyss.
When I refuse, his touch turns harsh. Demanding. Forcing me to
acknowledge the need he stokes.
I know I should fight it, but I arch into his touch, needing the release
he's denying me. He laves my nipple and just as I reach the summit; he
snatches the pleasure away, sitting up in the seat, straightening his shirts as
if nothing happened, leaving me panting with want. I jolt awake, his taunt
echoing in my mind. Friends don't fuck.
"You okay?"
Logan's hands are running up and down my arm. The lingering effects
of the dream cause me to clench my legs together. "Yeah, I feel asleep." I
turn to look out the window.
It feels wrong. For so many years, I had an idea of what my sexual
journey would look like, and I knew it would be within the confines of a
mutually satisfying and respectful relationship. But here I am single,
hanging out with someone I'm not even sure I like most of the time.
 I study my classmate out of the corner of my eye. Logan's behavior
often leaves me confused. He's sweet and charming one minute; cruel,
possessive or dismissive the next. I never know if he's going to go out of his
way to make me swoon, or quake in his presence.
That kiss he gave me in the club wasn't just a kiss. It was a claiming, a
promise, a brand. Nothing he's ever said or ever done makes me think he'd
be gentle with me my first time. Not the way Robbie would have been. Not
the way I planned. So why am I sitting here entertaining the idea of Logan
being my first?

It's been a week since the photo shoot and the dreams continue. They start
out sweet and gentle, before turning rough and demanding. I can barely
look in Logan's direction without imagining him hovering over me,
whispering crude things in my ears. It's like a switch flipped on and now all
I can see is my attraction to him.
"Jordy."
"Huh?"
"You're zoning out on me again. What's up with you, anyway?" Kassidy
asks slurping her noodles.
"If I tell you something, you promise not to judge me?"
"Yeah. Sure. I don't judge, my folks have literally raised me not to."
"I think I might like Logan."
Her chopsticks stop midway to her mouth. "Logan? McKay? The guy
you call the devil's unclaimed bastard son?"
"Yeah. I need my head examined, right?"
"Jordanna, he's hot. Everyone knows it. It's natural for you to think so,
too."
"But is it natural to want to date the guy whose friends are making my
life hell?"
She considers my question. "First, I think you should be looking at this
in the past tense. Have they really done anything since the dinner party?
And remember, it was Shauna causing shit that night with the little penis
that shouldn't contest."
 I giggle because while I closed my eyes and left, Kassidy says she got a
good look at the merchandise and was not impressed.
"I'm serious, Kass. I've been in a relationship for a long time, I just got
single, should I even be considering dating? And if you say yes, be honest.
Should I be thinking about dating, him?"
"I've known Logan since junior high. He's an ass, sure. But I also know
he's different around you."
"You mean he has to keep his clothes on because I don't fall for his
charm."
"No, I mean different. I've never heard him apologize to anyone until
you, and he rarely cares who anyone else is cuddling up with, but he's made
you off limits."
"Isn't that part of his possessiveness?"
"That's what I'm saying. Logan doesn't do possessive."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

T he students taking part in the art symposium have a meeting today

about final submission guidelines. Jordanna enters the room, eyes
scanning the lecture hall, searching for a seat. I expect her to sit somewhere
near the front of the room, instead she plants herself in the chair next to me.
I was up late last night in the studio. I stretch my legs out, preparing to
nap, since I've sat through this speech last year, and the year before. My
knee bumps hers, and I pull it away, not wanting to crowd her. She shifts
her leg, letting it touch mine again.
Well, that's interesting. She's initiating contact. I drop my hand, letting
my fingers casually graze her leg where we touch. A shiver runs through her
when my hand grazes her inner thigh, but she doesn't tell me to stop. I close
my eyes again, but I'm unable to sleep, thoughts running through my head
about what her acceptance of my touch means.
The meeting ends, and I stay in my seat, watching her slowly gather her
things. There's something on her mind, but it looks like she's struggling
with how to say it.
My guess is she's gearing up to brush me off again. It's becoming a habit
with her. She lets me touch her, then freaks out about it. Today, I'll just skip
the tirade. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Are you free for dinner?"
"Huh?"
"I mean, I can't take you to a fancy restaurant or anything, but I was
wondering if you wanted to meet up for dinner."
"To go over our paper?"
 "Uh, no." She chews on that delectable bottom lip. "Just to hang out.
With me."
"Jordy are you asking me on a date?"
She slips her bag over her shoulder, shaking her head. "No. I'm asking
you to hang out with me, without all your friends."
It's cute how she phrases it. "Sure, I'd love to go on a da-" I pause when
her eyes snap to mine. She really doesn't want to call it what it is, and I
don't want her to take back her offer. "I'd love to hang out with you."
"Cool. Around six?"
She jogs down the steps, leaving me gaping after her. We eat together,
sometimes, but I usually have to drag her to my table. Now here she is
saying she wants to spend time with me. Alone. Looks like Jordanna's
finally coming around.

We've hung out all week, and I'm sitting on Jordy's bed listening to her tell
her mother about her plans for this weekend. "Oh, nothing much. Kassidy
and I might watch a movie or something."
There's a party at Hale House, and Kassidy hasn't mentioned that she's
coming, even though I know she got the invite. She's Jordanna's lifeline at
those things. Time to cut the strings.
When she ends the call, I casually mention it. "You know there's a party
at Hale House, you should go."
"I don't know. Kassidy has plans, so I'd be there alone. I think I'm gonna
just sit this one out. Get some work done."
"You wouldn't be alone. I'll be there.”
"You'll be holding court with your friends, same as always."
"Come on Jordy, I wouldn't leave you to fend for yourself. You could sit
with me. Next to me. On my lap."
Her gaze darts to my legs, quickly swinging upright again. My zipper is
digging into me, because with just one innocent look from her, I'm hard.
"Would you like to sit on my lap, Jordy?” I ask, pulling her legs on
either side of mine, making her straddle me. She squirms, trying to get
away, then stills when she accidentally brushes against my stiff cock. I put
my hands on her hips. "Do that again."
I release a long hiss when she shifts against me. "I'm gonna kiss you,
and you keep moving, just like this."
 I don't give her time to think about it, fusing our lips together, holding
her against me. When she tries to resist, I rock her against me, assaulting
her mouth while keeping her moving back and forth in a steady pace.
Her hands reach up, threading through my hair as she grinds against the
ridge in my pants, as desperate for the friction as I am. Our kisses become
rougher, harder. She moans into my mouth, making my cock jump.
Fuck, this make-out session is getting away from me fast, but I can't do
anything to slow it down. I don't want to slow it down. What I want is her
underneath me, legs on my shoulders as I pound into her.
Her head falls back as she rocks against me. Mewling and panting.
"That's it, sweetheart."
I slip my hand under her shirt, dragging her bra down, testing the weight
of her breast in my hand.
"Agh." She groans, arching her back, pushing her tits into my hands.
"Mmm. You like that?" I ask, dragging the pad of my thumb across her
nipple.
I tsk at her silent nod. "Say the words, Jordy. Tell me you like it."
I do it again and move my other hand from her hip to her hair. Gripping
her ponytail, exposing her neck even more.
"I like it." She pants, digging her nails into my shoulders.
I flip her onto her back, yanking her pants and panties down in one fluid
motion. Getting my first real look at her. Her dark tendrils are damp, and I
close my eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to wrestle control over this dangerous
need coursing through me. If I'm not careful, I'll hurt her and she'll never
give herself over to me.
I swipe my thumb through her folds. Enjoying the site of her shifting
her hips for my touch. "Jordy?"
"Hm."
"Will you hang out at the party with me?"
I give no warning. No flowery words. Or time for her to think about
what I'm doing, burying my face between her legs, latching onto her clit.
Her back bows off the bed as she grips my hair. I'm unrelenting, licking and
sucking her tightly wound bundle of nerves. I lift my head, giving her a
small reprieve. "What's your answer Jordy?"
Before she can catch her breath and speak, I dive back in. I know what
I'm doing to her. She wants to fight me. Fight it, and refuse my request, but
I won't let her. Not today. I add two fingers, the way she likes, feasting on
her pussy, as if it's a five star catered meal.
"Oh, god, Logan."
"I love hearing you call me a god, but that's not the answer I'm waiting
for.”
I scrape my teeth across her thigh before latching on again. She clamps
around my fingers, tugging my hair hard enough to cause pain. The
discomfort only excites me even more.
"Yes, oh fuck yes. Yes. Yes."
I nuzzle her folds, kiss her inner thigh, and stroke her hip, waiting for
her to float back down to earth.
Climbing to my feet, I shift my cock giving it a little more room in the
confines of my jeans, before placing a quick kiss against her lips. "See you
at the party."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

"I"Neither
didn't think you were coming." Tobias says handing me an empty cup.
did I, but here I am." I scan the room knowing tonight won't be
any different from any other night. "I'm still not sure why."
A small voice in my head reminds me about Logan's head between my
legs, asking me to show up. Oh yeah, that's why.
"Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad you came." He says, pouring vodka
and sprite in my cup. "I feel like we never see each other outside of class."
"That's because I'm usually off somewhere painting or in my room
studying."
"Or with Logan."
"Um. No. Logan and I are just research partners. We're not together or
anything like that, and I talked to him about that whole stay away from me
thing. Logan has no say over my social life, whatsoever."
"So, you're not dating?"
"Nope."
"Does he know that?" He points at something over my shoulder.
"Because he looks like he's ready to put his fist through a wall and all I'm
doing is talking to you."
"You see those girls over there?” I ask referring to the harem he seems
to amass wherever he goes. “Logan isn't paying me any attention."
I motion towards the living room. "Well, I'm here, might as well go
pretend to have a good time."
Tobias slips his arm around my waist, steering me through the crowd.
"Oh, I'll make sure you do."
 Will, Tobias and I are in the corner watching the beer pong game,
laughing at how many times Xander misses, even though he insists he can
see without his glasses on. Tobias is sitting in a chair and I'm squeezed into
a small corner of it. Will is on the floor, his back resting against my knee.
Xander misses again, and Will turns his face towards my leg to hide his
laugh.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Logan asks, stepping in
front of the table blocking our view of the game.
"Watching a riveting game of beer pong." I point to the table and shrug
my shoulder.
"I wasn't talking to you," He snarls, glaring down at Will.
"Jordanna, now might be a good time to tell him what you told me." I
don't miss the smirk Tobias is trying to hide behind his beer.
I scrunch up my face as if trying to remember our conversation. "Oh,
you mean the part where I said Logan doesn't control who I spend time
with."
"Yup. That'd be it."
Logan looks down, turning his displeasure onto me. "Excuse me?"
"I told you, the protective act isn't necessary. I'm fine and can make my
own choices about my friends."
"They don't wanna be your friends, Jordy." His eyes flick to Will. "They
wanna fuck you."
My ears burn, because I know we're drawing attention away from the
game, and once again the focus is on my inexperience. "And when did that
become any of your business?"
"Oh, I don't know. Around the time we started dating."
"We're not dating."
I can't be sure, but I feel like the music has come to a screeching halt.
He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at me. "What did you say?"
I stand, refusing to let him intimidate me. "I said, We’re. Not. Dating."
Logan's hands grip my shoulders, digging hard enough to leave
fingerprints. "I told you at the club that you're mine."
I chalked that up to too many drinks and a slip of the tongue because
Logan says barbaric shit all the time. I dig my nails into his hand, trying to
get him off of me. "Let go of me Logan.”
He releases me, and I step around him.
"Get back here, Jordanna."
 I can finally breathe when I'm outside. The only time I'm comfortable
being the center of attention is when it has to do with my work. But when it
comes to my personal life, I always feel like ants are crawling up my skin
and I can't breathe.
"Jordanna, I said, get the fuck back here."
"I don't know what you're used to, in your friendships, Logan. Scratch
that, yeah I do, but I'm not one of your minions. I don't take orders from
you, and I don't belong to you. I'm not yours."
"Is that what you were telling yourself three nights ago when I had my
head between your legs? That we're friends? Cause baby, you weren't
pushing my face into your pussy like you wanted to braid each other's hair
or swap secrets about boys."
And there it is. The asshole emerges. Every. Fucking. Time. "Well, don't
worry Logan, I won't let you anywhere near me or my pussy again."
"I'll give you one chance to amend that statement."
I grind my molars together and grit through clenched teeth. "Never.
Again."

Jordanna walks into the cafe and damn near crashes into a table when she
sees I’m not alone. She said she wasn't mine, and that I won't ever touch her
again. We'll see how strong her resolve is.
"I thought we were working on our paper." Her gaze flicks to Shauna,
who's pressing her tits against my side.
"We are."
 "And who are these? Your stenographers?"
"They're my friends." I make sure she picks up on the extra emphasis
I've placed on the word.
"Maybe we should do this another time."
"Nah, this is the only time I have available. My friends and I have plans
right after. Right, ladies?"
Shauna nods and her friend whose name I don't even remember kisses
my cheek. I point to the chair with the wobbly leg. It's the only place
Jordanna can sit, because Shauna, her friend and I are taking up all the
space in the booth.
I know from her vantage point, Jordanna can see everything these two
are doing to me above, and probably below the table.
I have to give her credit though. She sits there acting all professional
and shit, as we work through our project. The only sign that she's affected is
when Shauna goes to kiss me on the lips. I turn just in time, so she only
catches the corner of my mouth. There's no way in hell I'm swapping spit
with her.
The friend, whose name turns out to be Blair, likes to get handsy. She's
groping my cock, looking like she just won the lottery, because it's stiff. It's
not for you, sweetheart. It's for the pissed off woman across from me. I'm
imagining her on her knees under this table, punishing her for saying she's
not mine.
"I can't wait to feel this." Blair whisper yells against my ear. She's not
subtle. Why would she be? No one would bat an eye if she pulled my dick
out right here. I have a reputation of letting girls suck me off where other
people can see.
"God, have a little respect for yourself." Jordy mumbles.
Shauna straightens, whipping around to confront Jordanna. "Excuse me,
charity?"
"Shauna, you've been throwing yourself at Logan since the first day of
school. He hasn't done you by now, so maybe you should move on."
"And what, you think he wants you after you dismissed him in front of
everyone? You blew it charity, Logan doesn't give second chances."
She's right. I don't. But as far as I'm concerned, until I win this bet,
Jordy and I are still on her first chance. I remain silent, pretending to be
indifferent about their argument. Blair's hands are now under my shirt, her
talons scraping across my stomach.
 "You like that?" She asks when I flinch. She didn't do anything
spectacular. The move was reflexive when she dug her nail into my navel.
Who the hell thinks these pointy ass claws are attractive?
"Are you almost done with your homework or whatever charity? Logan
has promised to take us to his special place."
Jordanna's head pops up and if looks could kill, the two ladies beside
me would disintegrate into thin air. There's a shake to her hands when she
shoves her books back into her bag.
"Yup. I'm done."

I'm up to my elbows in metal when a knock sounds at the door. I'd ignore it,
but I need to know if it's the neighbors or the super coming to warn me
about a gas leak, before I light up my torch and blow us all to kingdom
come.
"You're a liar." Jordanna spats from the hallway. "A misogynistic liar."
"Well, hello to you to."
"Don't 'hello' me, you ass."
I pull her inside and close the door. This isn't the place to make a scene.
"What the hell have I lied to you about?"
"You said you never brought girls here."
"I don't."
"Really? What other special place did you need to show Shauna and
Blair."
She's pissed because she thinks I shared this place with them. Yet she
says we're not dating. Jordanna's so fucking jealous right now. I just need to
push her a little more.
"Why do you care what I do with my friends? You said I have no say in
what you do with yours, what makes you think you can comment on mine?"
"Because I'm not a liar. How could you bring them here? The one place
I felt like I could be free of judgement. You ruined it."
"I never lied to you, Jordanna. I don't bring women here. You and Tabby
are the only ones who know where this place is, and why do you care if I've
suddenly changed my mind about that?
 We're not together, right? That's what you said at the party. I get it. You
used me to satisfy an itch. I do that shit all the time, so tell me what the fuck
are all the hysterics about?"
"I never used you. I told you how I felt. I tried to make it clear that I
couldn't handle anything else yet. But you keep kissing me and touching me
and then the minute I don't jump and do what you want, or say whatever
you want me to say, you run off to be with two other women. Typical
Logan, right?"
"If I'm so typical, why the hell am I pissed that you let Tobias and Will
hang all over you? Guys who’ve built their reputation around school based
on the number of trains they've run on women. You think they're just being
nice? Jordanna they won't hesitate to push you into a corner and have you
take it in both holes, before encouraging their buddies to tag in."
"What?" Her shoulders slump, the fight leaving her.
"That's right. They're notorious for sharing women. My warning them
away from you was to protect you. And then you go and announce in front
of everyone that we're not together. They're just gonna double down on their
efforts."
"So you only said those things to make them go away? You didn't mean
it when you said you wanted to date me?"
"Wanted to? Jordanna, we are dating. You call it hanging out, I don't.
I'm into you and you can't admit it, but you're into me too. That's why
you're here, giving me shit about Shauna and Blair. Girls I don't give a fuck
about."
"That's not what it looked like to me."
"Then you weren't paying attention. That was an act. I let them sit there
and talk their shit so you could see how it felt."
"You let them kiss and touch all over you because you wanted to hurt
me?"
"No, I wanted you to confront your feelings for me. Just be fucking
honest with yourself, Jordy. There's something happening between us. Why
are you fighting so hard against it?"
"Because I feel like I'm rushing things, or being reckless or dismissive
of what I had with Robbie. It wasn't insignificant, you know? We were
together for almost two years as a couple. Friends for much longer that that.
How can I move on from him so fast, when he's still… Well, he's trying to
repair the damage he's done."
 I could give a shit about the ex and his fragility. He was just an obstacle
to overcome to get to her. He's no longer an active player on the chessboard.
"It's not wrong for you to move on Jordanna. Any allegiance you owed
him ended the moment you found him with someone else. You deserve to
move on and be happy, and I'm just asking for a chance to make that
happen. Don't you feel anything at all for me?"
"Yes."
"Then stop pretending you don’t.” I pull her into my arms. "Jordy, don't
push me away."
She shudders, but lets me hold her. "I won't look away and excuse your
behavior, Logan. I won't let you disrespect me."
"Jordanna if we're together, then it's just us. I won't be seeing anyone
else."
She lets out a shaky breath, finally wrapping her arms around my
middle, pressing her head against my chest. "I'm choosing to trust you,
Logan. Choosing to be with you. But if you hurt me, I swear I’ll make you
regret the day we ever met."
I hear her threat, and as a rule I don't take those lightly, but I'm too
caught up in the feel of her arms wrapped around me. The smell of her skin,
and the words that preceded her threat. That she wants to be with me. I'm so
high on my triumph that I forget to give weight to my next words.
"Jordy, baby. I'll never do anything to hurt you."
"Then, fine."
"Fine, what?"
"Fine, I'm your girlfriend."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FORTY

I don't know what I was expecting, but being Logan's girlfriend isn’t
much different from what we were already doing. We hang out. I eat
with him and his friends. We work on our project and he watches me paint.
Oh. And the kisses. Those are more frequent. And intense. Case in point, at
this very moment, his lips are trailing down my stomach, lighting a fiery
path to my groin.
"Logan." I groan.
"Mm?"
"We have work to do."
"I know, but isn't this more fun?"
I nod my head, gasping when his fingers pinch my nipple. "You said
one kiss, and you'd be able to focus."
"I meant it too."
"So why aren’t we working?"
Cool air hits my skin as my pants slide down, and my panties come off.
"Because the kiss I was referring to, is here."
He drags his finger through my slit, pressing it against my opening. I'm
still nervous about the way he stares at me down there, and not at all sure
how genitalia can be beautiful, but he tells me mine is every time he looks
at it.
"Logan, you're stalling."
"You're right. I am."
With that acknowledgement, he swipes his tongue through my folds,
sending my senses into overdrive. When I shatter, he chuckles, sliding back
up my body, kissing my exposed skin along the way, until finally his mouth
meets mine. I groan, tasting myself on his tongue.
He rocks against me, reigniting that spark in my core. I hear his zipper
and feel his erection pressing against me. He grips my hips, angling my
center higher as we grind against each other. I wrap my arms and legs
around him, delirious from the friction.
"Baby." He groans against my ear. "I'm so fucking hard."
"I know." I feel his erection sliding against my slickness. Sending a jolt
down my spine.
I freeze when Kassidy knocks on the door. "Ignore her." Logan rasps.
She knocks again, calling through the barrier, "Jordanna, your mom’s on
the phone."
Shit. If she called Kassidy's number that means she's been trying to get a
hold of me. Logan rolls over onto his side, so I can find my phone. It's
halfway under the bed on vibrate. "Tell her I'm calling her back right now."
Logan’s pouting, is easily one of the most adorable things I’ve ever
seen. I plop a kiss on his cheek and hit dial, promising to call him later as he
walks out the door.

"You're a mess." Kassidy giggles when I wander into the living room after
ending the call with my mother.
"What do you mean?"
"How many days are you going to send poor Logan out of here with
blue balls?"
"I'm not. We're taking our time."
"Jordy, that man could barely walk, shuffling out of here like he just
went eight seconds on a bucking bronco."
"He knows I'm not ready, and he's willing to wait until I am."
"What I know, is that he's never waited a day in his life to get laid, and
you're like payback for all those notches on his belt, all tied up in a cute
little package."
I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "I'm not punishing him. I care about Logan,
but I'm just not ready."
She nods. "I hear you. And I commend you for waiting until you are."
 "You'd be the only person on campus who does."
"There's no purity circle or social club or whatever, but Jordanna, trust
me, you’re not the only virgin on campus."
"Hard to believe that."
"You're not, but you are the only woman on campus to hold out for
more than forty-eight hours with Logan McKay trying to get in their
panties. And the way he's got you moaning, I'd say he provides a very
convincing argument about why you should let him in."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

I was in a good mood until I walked into class and found my girlfriend
having a moment with someone else. Jordanna's sitting on the stage
smiling and giggling to whatever bullshit Noel's saying.
He's an opportunist and knows just the right words to say to make
women believe he's a good guy, but I know the truth about him. His
reputation with women is just as fucked up as mine is. He's seen us hanging
out on campus, and word is out that we're together, but I don't for one
second think he wouldn't fuck her just to spite me.
One of his hands lingers on her thigh, the other reaches up to brush a
stray lock of hair behind her ear, like he's a sweet and tender lover. The two
of them are oblivious to anyone else in the room. Huddled together, like
they're the best of friends, sharing secrets.
It's intimate, and it takes everything in me not to yank her away, and
push her against the desk while I fuck her with him watching.
Fuck. This waiting game is for the birds. I don't know how the ex did it.
It's only been a couple of weeks for me, and I'm already sick of acting like
an altar boy. I've hovered in the friend zone, now we're making out like
we're horny teenagers. I need to push this along, or I'll never make my
deadline.
Jordanna walks over to her seat as the rest of the students arrive. "What
are you wearing to the party tonight?" I ask as she's setting up her pallet.
She groans, rolling her eyes. "Nothing."
The model comes on stage. He's starting slow, removing just his shirt.
By the end of next week, he'll be sitting up there with nothing but a
loincloth.
"Well, that's a bold and daring choice. Though I'm not sure how I feel
about you jumping into the deep end, with an audience present."
"I meant nothing, because I'm not going."
"Come on, you owe me a rematch with ten minutes in hell." I lean
closer, so she's the only one who can hear, “And this time I want you
stroking my cock."
"How about we sit this one out?"
"I can't. I missed the last two parties, so I have to make an appearance."
She shifts in her seat. "No, you don't."
"Jordy."
"Logan, it's a swap night party. You can't really be planning to go."
And she can't really expect me to miss it. I get her not wanting to party
all the time. Shit, neither do I, but some things can't be helped. Missing
tonight is not an option. Part of my job as king of the school is to protect the
school and our student's images.
I can't put a spin on things when they get out of control, if I'm not there
to see it happen. It's more than a title. I filter information to McKay Media
and a fixer the Kingsley Hollow families keep on retainer, if we can't keep
it contained. Sometimes, I'm all that stands between a night of tawdry fun
and a full-blown scandal.
"Jordanna, I have a responsibility to my friends and to the students, to
show up. I can't skip it."
We spend the rest of the class painting in silence. Her headphones are in
and she seems pretty relaxed. I almost wish she'd freak out and avert her
gaze. I'm not all that happy about her looking at another man.
She stands at the end of class, slipping the strap of her bag on her
shoulder. "I'll see you at my dorm tonight." She pecks my cheek before
heading off to see her advisor.

My phone flashes with a text from Jordanna asking where I am. I consider
ignoring it, because I'm still in a mood after that little scene with Noel and
her insistence that I skip the party.
Me: I’m in my room getting ready to head out to the party.
 Jordy: I thought you were coming here.
Me: No, you assumed I was. I told you I had to make an appearance. I'll
catch up with you after.
I slip my wallet in my back pocket and step into the hall, taking the
elevator to the lobby. Once outside, I inhale the cool night air, turning my
steps toward Fraternity Row. We had to deal with a last-minute venue
change when the parents of the student hosting tonight's event decided to
delay their trip. I would have rather taken the party over to The Rift, but the
guest list was too big to screen.
I'm watching the crowd, my back to the door, when I feel a tingle along
my spine and know that she's here. I turn towards the door, watching as
Jordanna slips through the crowd. Her hair is in a fishtail braid hanging
over her shoulder and she's wearing a belted tunic shirt, with Capri jeans
and ankle boots.
The knot in my stomach eases. I'm in a corner of the room, so I know
she won't be able to see me right away. She cranes her head left and right.
I get to my feet and freeze, gripping the cup in my hand so tightly it
starts to bend. A smile lights her face as she makes her way over to Noel. Of
course he's here. This is his frat, but why the hell is he the first person she
goes to?
I remind myself there are people watching. They're always watching. So
I play it cool. Still, my feet carry me over to where Noel and Jordanna are
standing. The appearance of a leggy redhead gyrating in my path, interrupts
my plans to knock Noel on his ass.
I watch the redhead shimmy up and down, swirling her hips. Her eyes
brighten when I drag her to the floor, letting her continue her little dance for
me. It's a much needed distraction from what's happening on the other side
of the room.
I'm not sure how long we dance. A minute, an hour. The time drags on,
so it could be either. A hand taps me on the shoulder. Jordanna's voice a low
hum as she calls my name. I glance at her over my shoulder, arching a
brow, as she looks from me to the redhead.
"Mind if I cut in?" She asks, pulling me away from the floor.
"Hi." She says when we're in the back of the house.
"Hi yourself."
I lean against the wall, feet crossed at the ankles while I drink the beer I
snagged from the cooler on our way back here.
 "That's all you have to say?"
I heft one shoulder. "You look sexy as fuck tonight." I stare over her
head. I mean it. She looks good, but I can't look at her right now. I'm so
pissed that Noel was the first person she stopped to talk to when she got
here.
"Is everything okay?" She lifts her hand to run it through my hair. "Did
something happen?"
She looks so sweet and sounds so concerned for my well being. If she
really was, it wouldn't have taken her so long to come find me.
"Everything's great. I think the games are about to start. We should go and
make sure we get good seats."
"I'm not in the mood to play. Why don't we just hang out and talk?"
Talking is the last thing I feel like doing. I grab her hand, pulling her
into the library on our left, gripping her neck as soon as we're inside the
room, and pull her into a kiss. My tongue mercilessly pillages her mouth,
while her hands cling to my shirt to stay upright.
I lift her, carrying her towards the wall. Her legs wrap around me and I
grind against her, but it's not enough. I need more contact. I lower her legs
to the floor, undoing her jeans, pulling them off one leg, then lower mine.
My jeans are around my ankles as I lift her again, pressing my erection
against her wet center. She moans, rocking against me. I snatch her panties
to the side and lower my boxers, sliding my length through her wet seam.
This is it. This is what I need.
"You're so wet." I whisper against her lips.
"Logan."
I love hearing her pant my name. Our hips are pressed together, my
cock twitching against her. "Jordy, baby. Fuck, I know this is gonna be a
tight fit. I'm gonna ruin this pussy and you'll never look at another man
again."
Her hands flex against my back as she rolls her hips. "That's it baby,
slide that wet pussy up and down, getting it ready for me."
I grip my shaft, laying my head in the crook of her neck, preparing for
that first moment when her heat starts to stretch around me. The swollen
head of my cock nudges her opening. I grunt at how good that feels. "I need
you so fucking bad, right now, baby."
"Logan, No. Don't."
 No? Don't? What the fuck? I lift my head, meeting her eyes, seeing the
rejection in their depths. I step away, letting her slump to the floor and pull
my pants up, buttoning them as I walk out the door.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

W hat the hell just happened? One minute we're making out, the next
he releases me so fast you'd think my skin was on fire. I fix my
clothes and look for him to find out what the hell he was thinking, trying to
have sex with me here and unprotected. He's in a corner with the redhead I
saw him dancing with earlier, her tits pushed up in his face, his hand resting
on the wall next to her head.
"Logan, we need to talk."
"I think we've talked enough for the night. How about we try again
tomorrow? We might be on the same page by then."
"No, we need to talk about this, now."
"Let it go, Jordanna.."
He shoulders past me, heading towards his friends, the redhead in tow.
When he sees me following, he changes course and walks out the front
door. I follow him out of the frat house and past the people making out in
the front yard.
"Why are you being like this?" I yell, even though this is a conversation
we should be having alone.
He stops at the end of the driveway. "Being like what? Like a man that
can't take this hot and cold routine from you anymore?"
"Logan. That's not fair."
"Well, I guess I'm not feeling very fair right now."
"What the hell happened?"
He shakes his head as if I should already know the answer to that.
"Open your eyes, Jordanna. I can't be the perfect boyfriend you want. I'm
not equipped to go through life denying myself like a monk."
"I never asked you to do that."
"Didn't you? It would be so much easier if you say the words. It's clear
how little I mean to you. So just admit that I'm not the guy you want. Be
honest and say that you don't feel the same way that I feel about you."
"You know I care about you."
"How would I know that? What's the phrase?" He screws his face up
and sneers at me, "Actions speak louder than words. And all I hear are
words."
"Logan. My words are sincere, I just need you to be patient and-,"
"Wait? How long Jordanna? Another week? A month? Til graduation?!”
His words are full of contempt, a sharp contrast from the man who
holds me at night and tells me I'm beautiful.
"God, I've been so stupid. It was right in front of me all along. I'm never
gonna have you, am I?" He asks, scrubbing his hand through his hair.
"Sex isn't the most important part of us dating, Logan."
"No. But I want to be with you in every way. And you're keeping a part
of yourself from me. So tell me Jordanna, now who's afraid of intimacy?"
He clenches his jaw, his Adam's apple bobbing furiously when he
swallows. "I think we should take a break. I um, I can't be with you and risk
falling any more in-," He swallows again and looks away.
I can't believe it. Is he seriously breaking up with me? I take a hesitant
step forward. "Logan-"
"Jordanna, I tried okay, but you were right. We're incompatible and have
different tastes and ideas of fun. You don't like parties and games, and I do.
Serious relationships are not my thing. I already knew that, and I’m not
built for abstinence or whatever. I won't disrespect you by hooking up with
someone else while we're together, like your ex did, so let’s just end this
now."
"You wanna break up, because I didn't want to play a stupid game at this
party?"
"No Jordanna. It’s not about the game. It’s about the party. It's a swap
night party, and I wanna fuck, and there are a lot of girls in there who want
to fuck me. Why should I deny myself and tie myself down to someone
who doesn't? You're saving yourself for Mr. Right, and we both know, I'm
not him. So, I'm done racking my brain, turning myself in knots trying to
figure out if I'm pushing you too far, making you do too much. It's a
headache and a distraction I don't need."
I narrow my eyes as he spills his truth. "So it all comes down to sex
with you after all."
"It comes down to not knowing where I stand with you. Not feeling
connected to you. Jordy, you are the sexiest fucking woman I've ever met,
and I tried to be okay with it, but I go to bed hard for you every night. I
wake up the same way. I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in
my life, and you treat it like it's a game. Withholding yourself to punish me
for what he did."
"Who? Robbie?” I shake my head. “No, that’s not what I'm doing."
"Really? Then maybe you’re just selfish. Because I've touched you. I've
tasted you. I know what you look like and sound like when I'm pleasing
you. Can you say the same about me? Do you even care about pleasing
me?"
"When we talked about this, you said you were fine, without sex."
"Yes, Jordanna. I'm fine if we're gonna touch each other. Satisfy each
other. But that hasn't happened yet. I get you off and then get sent to my
dorm while you talk to mommy or your Carryville friends, or whoever and
do whatever else is more important than me. So I'm taking back control and
putting the decision in my own hands. It’s been fun, but like I said, we’re
done."
He strolls back towards the door of the frat house, shakes hands with
some people along the way, and disappears inside.
I'm dumbfounded. I’m not even sure how I would have responded if
he’d have stuck around long enough to let me give a rebuttal, because the
truth is, I've been so focused on my willingness to let him touch me in ways
Robbie never did, that I didn't really think about how it would affect him.
I know Logan’s reputation, but I believed him when he said he was
okay with waiting. He should have said something sooner and I wouldn’t
have let us go as far as we did. I respect that he has every right to change
his mind, but I refuse to let anyone push me into having sex before I'm
ready.
The fates allowed, the stars aligned. Insert whatever cliche floats your boat.
But somehow my girls and I are back in the same zip code, and I have never
been as happy to see someone as I am to see them. I feel better the moment
I step off the bus, and launching myself at them for a three-way hug, only
boosts my mood. We’re laughing, talking and crying all at the same time. I
stash my bag in the trunk of Marina’s car before climbing into the back seat.
Tiffany turns around to talk to me, and I catch Marina’s eye in rear view
as I get them caught up on what’s been happening in my life. Minus the part
about dating and breaking up with Logan. That’s a story that needs to be
told over drinks. We’re on our way to a local hangout where the staff
doesn’t look too closely at the ID’s of the college crowd, as long as we
don’t get destructive.
There are quite a few people I recognize at the pub and I shake off the
melancholy feeling I have that seven weeks have already gone by. This is
the halfway mark and next semester I’ll be back here full time. Sure, things
will be different because I’m not with Robbie anymore, but my educational
and career goals haven’t changed.
Who would ever have thought I’d be single twice-over before the start
of winter break? At the rate my relationships are imploding, I have time to
start and end one more before the year is out. As if the thought of my exes
was a magical spell to summon them, Robbie appears in the doorway of the
pub. He spots me right away, and I shift in my seat under the scrutiny of his
gaze.
I feel out-of-place watching him hug Tiffany and Marina, and finally he
offers me a stilted hello. We’ve spoken a few times since the breakup, but
seeing him now, stabs at my heart. I miss him. I miss my friend. Marina
invites him to sit, but he declines, saying he’s meeting someone. I stop him
as he turns to walk away, wishing him luck on his upcoming exhibit. The
smile he gives is genuine and I feel good, hopeful that I’ve maybe made a
first step in forgiving him.
When we’re alone with drinks in front of us, Tiffany leans forward on
her elbows. “Okay, Jordanna. Spill.”
No lead up. No preamble. I just let it all hang out. “I think I’m ready to
date again. Well, I was dating, but it didn’t work out.”
“Why not?”
“For the same reason it didn’t work out with Robbie, I guess. My V card
got in the way.”
 Marina waves her hand dismissively. “That’s an easy fix. Rip that
sucker up.”
Tiffany chimes in. “She means that. Literally.” A second later, they both
erupt in laughter, bumping fists.
“Girls, be serious.” I say, flicking my wadded up straw wrapper at them.
“We are.” Marina sips her Mai Tai, then continues. “Seriously Jordanna.
Why are you still holding on to it, anyway?”
“Because the person I was gonna give to and I aren’t together
anymore.”
They look at me like that’s not a good enough reason.
“Think of how many years it took for me to decide Robbie was the one.
Shouldn’t I at least devote the same amount of time to the next person?”
“Hell no,” They screech in unison.
Tiffany snorts, pointing at me. “And that’s your problem. It’s not about
the other person. It’s about you, and what you want, and what you’re ready
for. If this guy makes you feel tingly and you want more. Get more.”
“Just like that?”
“There are guys I meet and date and it takes weeks. Then there’s the
one-night stands. I do what I feel comfortable with. You should too.”
“You sound like Kassidy.”
“Who’s that?”
“My roommate. She always saying how she listens to her body’s cues
and doesn’t let anyone shame her for it.”
“Sounds like a smart woman.”
Marina eyes me as if she’s looking for clues. “Is he hot?”
“Who?”
“The guy that’s been warming up your lady parts. Is he hot?”
“Yeah.” I nod, biting my lip as an image of Logan swims before my
eyes.
“Damn, it’s like that, huh? Got you all flushed and frustrated just
thinking about him. Girl, you definitely need to tap that.”
“Wait, you two were all team, take your time, with Robbie. Why the
change to team put out now?”
They share a look and Marina sighs, because she clearly lost whatever
silent argument they were just having. “You and Robbie were friends for a
lot of years, and when you became a couple, we supported it because you
seemed happy. But for real Jordanna, we never got the whole I want to fuck
him vibe from you. Not like you’re giving off now.”
Tiffany tilts her head. “Yeah, you been letting this one get real close.
Haven’t you?”
“He goes down on me.” I can’t believe I just confessed that out loud.
“Girl. Yes. That’s what I’m talking about.” Tiff leans forward. “Now
have you gone down on him?”
“Uh, no.”
Marina asks, “Gave him a hand job?”
“Uh, uh.”
Tiffany narrows her eyes at me. “Let him jerk off and cum on you?”
“Nope.”
She sits back, looking disappointed. “So he ate your pussy one time and
got mad because you said you wanted to wait? Sounds like he was just
doing it for sex. Maybe you shouldn’t give it up to him after all.”
“It wasn’t just one time. It was all the time. I just hadn’t reciprocated.”
My two best friends sit back in their chairs, mouths agape. “What’s
wrong?”
The two of them share another look, and this time Tiffany speaks first.
“This dude was eating you out all the time, and never pressured you about
getting off, and you broke up with him?”
“He broke up with me because he said I was selfish for not making sure
he was satisfied, and he thought it was best to end things so he could fuck
someone else.”
Marina holds up her hand, signaling for another round. “That’s cold, but
he has a point Jordanna. We know Robbie at least got hand jobs, and unless
you were holding out on details, his mouth never went below your belly
button.”
It’s true, it didn’t. He fingered me, and I gave him hand jobs sometimes.
Mostly we made out and stopped before it got too heavy. “I’m so confused
you guys. What do I do?”
Marina shrugs. “Shit, if I know. I guess talk to him about how you really
feel and listen to how he feels. Relationships are about compromise. If you
still want to be with him, ya’ll are gonna have to figure out where that
middle ground is.”
The drinks come, and Tiffany lifts her glass. “Okay, let’s toast.”
“To what?”
 “To Jordanna finally getting some tongue action down there.”
We all laugh, clinking our glasses together. I’m glad I came here. A
weekend with my girls is just what I needed.

I'm back to sitting alone in class and in the cafeteria. I didn't mind it before,
but now, without Logan's larger-than-life presence around, I'm keenly aware
of how cold and alone I am at this school for the stupidly rich.
I try to settle back into my old routine and bury myself in my art, but
none of it is working. The girls asked why I'm waiting. I've thought about
that question all week, and the truth is I don't know anymore.
Logan wasn't forcing me to do anything I didn't want to do. And there
were moments when I wanted more. I just panicked because… because I'm
afraid I won't measure up. I know Robbie wasn't a virgin, but I at least
thought I stood a chance at satisfying him.
Logan is so much more experienced. What if I do this and he doesn't
like it? I'd never be able to look at him again.
Out of habit, I sit in the seat that gives me a straight view of the door.
Before I can move Logan walks in, the BP's following close behind. Our
eyes lock and I feel two things. Sadness that we're over before we had a
chance, and awareness. My body comes alive, remembering his touch.
"Take a picture, charity, it'll last longer." Shauna sneers. I ignore her.
My world full of Logan and the way his eyes darken as they look at me.
He steps in front of me, and hands me a stack of papers. "Here's my
latest revisions."
I take the papers without looking at him. "Thanks."
"Just doing my share. We can work the rest of this through emails. And
we need to make arrangements for you to get your canvas out of my
studio."
This is really it. Not only are we not dating, but he doesn't want to be
around me. Isn't that the suggestion I made when he was pursuing me? Why
am I having trouble hearing those words repeated back to me now? "Um.
Sure, I'll come get it tomorrow, if that's okay."
"Fine."
 I stare at him for a second longer, committing his face, his body, the
way he moves to memory. Because after this, I have to forget about him.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

I slam my mallet against the metal, hard enough to crack it in half, but it
won't budge. Fuck. I'm losing this bet, and Bella knows it. I warm the
metal with the torch and pelt it again. How did I screw this up so badly?
I had her in the palm of my hand and with one stupid party, things went
off track. And how the hell am I going to break this news to my dad? The
VP spot is mine to give away, but this isn't how the decision was supposed
to be made.
An hour later, I'm showered and dressed, heading out for the night to
meet the guys. A cab pulls up to the curb as I step onto the sidewalk. The
door opens and Jordanna gets out.
"I expected you hours ago. I didn't think you were still coming."
"Yeah, I got held up at the studio. Noel was helping me."
Noel. Always fucking Noel.
"You're obviously heading out so I can come back another day to get my
canvas."
I turn and unlock the door. "Let's take care of this now."
We ride the elevator in silence. My hands clenched at my side to keep
from grabbing her and asking why she's so drawn to that bastard Noel. I
fight the urge to push her against the wall and punish her for costing me this
win.
"I read your edits and I really liked-"
"We don't need to make small talk."
The car stops and I push up the gate, leading her down the hall. I
quickly unlock the door and flick on the light so she can gather her things.
If it were anything else, other than her artwork and tools, I would have
tossed them out on the curb.
"Well, I think that's everything."
"I said, don't fucking talk." I growl, stalking towards her. "Why can't
you for just once do what I tell you?"
"Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?" Her pupils
dilate as she steps towards me. "I'm trying to make this less awkward, but I
see you insist on doing it the asshole way. So I'll get my shit and leave.
Hopefully, the next girl you're with will be more to your liking with no
personality of her own."
She's pissed. Well, so am I. "What girl?"
"Whichever one you decided to keep after you fucked them at the
party."
I grip her arms, pulling her closer. "Is that why you keep running after
Noel? Because you're so broken up about who's been riding my cock? You
had your chance, but you didn't want me, remember?"
She tilts her head back, glaring at me. "Oh, spare me. It's obvious that
you didn't want me. If you did, it wouldn't have been so easy for you to
hook up with someone else that night."
The tension in the air is so thick you could cut it with a knife. I let her
go at the same time she moves forward. She initiates the kiss, grabbing my
face, demanding a response. I grip her ass, pulling her back against me,
giving in. She yanks my shirt up, and I break off our kiss long enough to
take it off.
"Unh," I grunt when her tongue swirls around one nipple while her nails
graze across the other. Her mouth trails lower, kissing a path from my chest
to my belly button and back up again. She reaches for my pants, undoing
the button and zipper.
My vision swirls when her hand brushes against my cock. We're
shedding clothes and moving towards my bed. I step out of my shoes and
jeans so I don't fall on my face.
We make it onto the bed, and somehow she winds up on top of me. I
reach my hand between her legs and feel the damp spot on her yoga pants.
Her eyes are hooded as she rocks against my hand. "I love how wet you get
for me."
She leans forward, sucking my bottom lip into her mouth. This night is
going to end the same way the others have, but even knowing that, I need
one more taste. I flip her onto her back, slipping her leg over my shoulder,
kissing along her folds. Her hands grip tufts of my hair to hold me in place.
I know every curve and corner of her untouched petals. She clenches
down as I ease two fingers into her tight opening. I let out a raspy groan,
imagining how tight the fit would be. She keeps begging for more, and I
work her over until she falls on the bed writhing, pleading for me to make
the torture end. "It's not enough Logan, please don't stop."
"Jordy, don't you get it? Your body is telling you there's only one thing
that's going to satisfy it." I slowly add another finger and suck on her clit.
She bucks against me as I pump my fingers in and out. She's close, and I
withdraw my hand, scrambling up the bed, wanting to hold her close as she
comes apart.
I grind against her. A draft hits my ass, as she works my boxers down
my legs. I hiss when my shaft slides against her wet folds. My hands grip
underneath her hips, lifting them, angling them higher. This is as close as
we'll ever be and I'm taking a little pleasure for myself. She locks her legs
around my waist, digging her nails into my ass.
"Shit," I groan. The heat of her pussy is calling out to me. "I want to
fuck you so bad. It's been months since the last time I was with anyone, and
you're the only one I want. But since I can't have you, the way I want, I'm
gonna jerk off and cum all over your tits."
I lean up on my knees, taking my shaft in one hand. Stroking her clit
with the other.
"I want you inside me." She whimpers.
I look up from my hand, searching her face, not sure I heard her
correctly. "What are you saying Jordy?"
"I want you, Logan. I want all of you."
I push her legs open, eating her pussy again. If she wants this, really
wants this, I want her ready for me. She's close. I smack her clit and her
back bows off the bed as she falls apart.
As she's sliding down from the crest of her orgasm, I sheath my cock
with a condom and settle my hips between her legs, lining the swollen head
to breach her opening. I feel her stiffen beneath me and whisper soothingly
in her ear. "You want me to stop?" God, I hope she doesn't want me to, but I
will.
A small tear leaks from the corner of her eye, and I lean down to kiss it
away. "We should stop."
 "No. I want to do this."
"You still can another time."
"No, I want to do this now. With you."
I pull back and slip in a little more. Biting my lip against the sweet pain
of her enveloping me just these few inches. I give her time to adjust and
give her more of my length. My muscles strain as I hold myself back from
taking her like my body demands.
"Just a little more Jordy." I hiss through clenched teeth.
I readjust for leverage and push all the way through. I feel her breath
leave her body and I wait. Wait for her to unclench her eyes. Wait for her to
unclench her jaw. And wait for her to unclench her pussy. The latter, I need
done, because she's gripping me so tight, I'm ready to blow and I haven't
even had any time inside her yet.
Slowly, her breathing steadies. "Okay?" I huff through gritted teeth.
She nods and I start to move, giving her a chance to get used to the feel
of me on her. Around her. In her.
"Oh," she gasps, when I circle my hips adding friction to her clit. I do it
again and her hands slip from my shoulders to the small of my back. I thrust
against her and her legs open wider. Soon, she's rising up to meet me. When
her hands reach around me, nails digging into my ass, I claim her mouth,
swirling my tongue with hers, letting her taste herself on my lips. I pull out
to the tip and push back in.
"Oh, shit" she moans and my cock doubles in width. I read her cues and
give her what she wants. Giving myself over to the feeling of being one
with her. It's like swirling the brightest paints together and creating arcing
strokes through the air. Like reaching deep to find the true meaning behind
a portrait, seeing beyond the colors the artist used. Sex with her is like
finding out that the coolest gift is in the box you never thought to look in.
I thought I was prepared for this, but I wasn't. Not for the way she's
clawing at me. Or writhing underneath me. Begging me to take what she's
offering. Her body is open to me and with mine I'm staking claim to it.
A sheen of sweat breaks out on my skin and she dips her tongue into the
curve of my shoulder, lapping at the tiny droplets. My body is all need and
desire, and I'm succumbing to its will, its demands. Only one thought
pushes through the haze of lust I'm ensnared in. Mine. And my body knows
it needs to ruin her for anyone else.
 She's given me her innocence, and I'm going to make sure that every
first she experiences is with me, and the pleasure my body gives her will be
the bar that no one else will ever reach.
I push deeper, searching for that spot to claim as my own. Planting the
head of my cock against it. Equivalent to planting a flag on some
undiscovered planet.
Her whimper into my mouth and the quiver of her walls around me let
me know I’ve found what I'm looking for. I press against her g-spot again
and her back leaves the mattress, her shoulders and head are the only parts
of her body left touching it. She won't make it much longer and the way I'm
being hugged by her silken heat, neither will I.
I slam into her again and again. My strokes quicken, my sack rises and
my lower back tightens. I reach my thumb between us, stroking her tight
bud. She bucks against me, grasping at the sheets. Her bottom lip is
between her teeth and her eyes are shut.
The weight of my body pushes her into the mattress as I try to get even
closer. She buries her cries in my neck, shaking in my arms, as her walls
clamp around my cock.
I let out a series of unintelligible grunts against her hair as I deplete
every drop of semen in me. Our shaky breaths are the only proof we're still
alive, though I can't be certain because holding back during sex with
Jordanna almost killed me.

I wake in the middle of the night needing air. I slip out of bed and go to the
kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Jordanna's sleeping on her stomach, her
left knee and right shoulder exposed.
Checking my phone, I see Bella's sent me a picture of a clock. I'm
losing precious time towards the expiration of our bet, but I don't care.
There was no way I was taping Jordanna's first time. Some things deserve
respect and if this were my sister, I'd want the guy she gives her virginity to,
to recognize how significant that would be to her and not be a fucking
douche by recording it.
She turns in her sleep, exposing more of her back, and I feel my dick
twitch. This whole night is a wash, I'm going in for round two and I'm not
taping that shit either.
 Besides, Bella doesn't care about the vanilla, she wants to see how far
down the rabbit hole I can convince Jordanna to go. There are no rabbits
here tonight, and the only hole I'm interested in is the one between her legs.

Bella's waiting for me in my room, which sends my mood plummeting.

After the night I had, I'm not in the proper headspace to deal with her shit.
"Look what the cat finally dragged in." She takes a whiff. "Smelling like
clay, smoke and skank." Drumming her fingers on the bed, she says,
"Careful Logan. You'll never convince the Puritan Princess to let you
between her thighs if you keep dipping your poker in someone else's pyre."
She’s on her stomach, ankles crossed and legs in the air like a sexy pin
up. "Vice President Lance. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
She's picking out decorations for the corner office already. Time to bring
her back from the future. "Have you been here all night, waiting for me to
crawl into bed with you?"
I move in front of her fisting her hair forcing her head back to look at
me.
"I was in the mood to play, but you missed out. I let Corey show me his
hammer instead."
Her pout is carefully constructed to make men lust after her. She knows
what she's doing. Twisting people around her fingers gets her off more than
a good fuck from the wrong person ever will.
"I'm sorry you had to settle, Bella." I release my grip, ignoring her
attempt to rile me up. "I was in the studio."
"So what else is new?" She rolls her eyes and flips onto her back. My
eyes go to the expanse of stomach showing under the edge of her sweater.
"With Jordanna."
That gets her attention. Sitting up, she quickly swings her legs over the
side of the bed, coming to stand in front of me. "You're lying."
"She had something she wanted to show me. I showed her something in
return."
"Ah, ah, ah. It doesn't count if you don't have proof."
"We didn't sleep together." The lie slides smoothly off my tongue. "But
the plan is back in motion."
 "Okay then. Happy hunting."

It's a little before five and I'm trying not to wake Kassidy as I creep into our
dorm room. She's a great roommate, and I enjoy spending time with her, but
I'm not ready to answer questions about why I'm walking funny. Hopefully,
after a nice hot shower, I'll feel better. I expected some soreness down there,
but who knew my legs and abs would feel like I did a thousand squats and
crunches? They need to prepare a girl for that sort of shit.
I linger under the warm spray of the shower, letting it beat the soreness
out of my body. Did I really do it last night? Finally lose my V card to
Logan? Well, yes, obviously I did, so that's not the question I should ask
myself.
No, what I really want to know is how do I feel about it? I was fine in
the heat of the moment. But the here and now, the after, am I still okay? I
review what happened from one side, then the next. Dissect it and suture it
back together. Yes, I'm okay that I gave my virginity to Logan. The waiting
wasn't about the guy, as much as it was about my decision that I was ready.
And I was. Honestly, I was ready months ago. But then Robbie and I broke
up.
That thought leads to another question that I need to confront. Was
sleeping with Logan about getting back at Robbie? No. That’s definitely not
it. My attraction to Logan was there before my relationship with Robbie
ended. But I would never have acted on it. So it was attraction and lust.
Palpable and real and everything in me wanted to feel what it would be like
for Logan to make love to me.
Okay, whoa, say what now? Isn’t this what we hear about all the time?
A girl loses her virginity and gets all emotionally attached to the guy. I
might have felt cared for, cherished, and desired last night and early this
morning when we did it again, but love is nowhere in this. It was sex. Pure.
Simple. Animal attraction.
I go through a few more reality checks while I finish soaping up and
rinsing off. I step out of the shower and into my bedroom to moisturize and
pick out my clothes for the day. By the time I grab a yogurt, banana and cup
of coffee, I've accepted that I’ve just had a normalized college experience
and I'm ready to start my day, without worry about if I’ll be fawning,
giggling and blushing my way through it.
My vow to be stoic and unaffected by my change in status goes to hell
the minute Logan walks into class. Heat floods my body, as my gaze travels
his frame from the top of his sneaks to his eyes. The eyes that see too much.
A lazy smile spreads across his face.
My ability to think doesn't improve when he sits next to me. "Shouldn't
you be sitting in front of me?"
He leans close, whispering in my ear, "Shouldn't you be sitting on top of
me?"
He grabs my hand and pulls. Nodding towards the back of the class. I
gather my stuff and follow him to the back row. The lights dim five minutes
after the start of class as the professor plays a movie. I try to focus on it, but
Logan has other ideas. He turns my face to him and kisses me.
I know I should tell him to stop, but it feels so good. I wore a skirt
today, because I still feel tender between my legs. It was a bad idea. Or a
good one, depending on your viewpoint.
Logan's hand glides up my leg. At the juncture of my thighs, he grazes
his fingertips across the triangle of my panties. I grab his wrist, but he takes
my hand, moving it to his leg, pressing my fingers around the bulge in his
pants.
He doesn't stop there; he lowers his sweatpants, pulling his cock out and
putting my hand against it. I look around the lecture hall and see everyone's
doing their own thing. Either watching the movie or pretending to.
His breath tickles my ear. "I've been thinking about you all day." I look
down at my hand. This thing was in me? My hand isn’t even big enough to
fit around his entire base.
"A little harder." He coaxes. When I tighten my grip, he grunts. "Yeah.
Like that."
He moves our hands in unison up and down his length. Am I really
doing this? Giving him a hand job in class? When he rocks into my hand, I
look up at his face. It reflects boredom as if he's really watching the movie.
The only sign that what I'm doing has any effect at all, is the grip he has on
the armrest of his chair and my thigh.
"Take off your panties.”
My hand freezes mid stroke. “Huh?"
"Now, before I rip them off." As discreetly as I can, I slip off my panties
and hand them to him. "Wrap them around your hand and finish me off."
I do as he demands, watching his face. His hand grazes my thigh,
gripping and caressing it. He pulls me into a kiss, my free hand threads
through his hair, but I keep pumping my hand up and down his shaft.
His head goes to the crook of my neck and I feel him tense against me.
The first rope of hot semen jets out. I use my panties as a mitt to catch the
rest. He softens in my hand, his breath rasping against my ear. Placing a soft
kiss behind my ear, he’s says, "Thank you baby, I needed that."
I watch dumbfounded as he jogs down the steps and out the classroom.
Two days ago I was a virgin, and now I just made Logan orgasm in class,
with people around. I clench my legs together. Oh, and he has my panties.
So, yeah. There’s that.

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 CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

I f I've learned anything these last few weeks, it's that parties, Jordanna,
and I, don't mix. Yet here we are and I'm on edge, because if some stupid
shit goes down tonight, it might throw everything off track.
Jordy's wearing a dress and damn if her legs don't look amazing. Not as
good as when they wrap around me or fall open so I can eat her pussy, but
tempting nonetheless.
I'm not the only one who notices. This was a bad idea. I should've made
her stay home, because I know they see it. She's coming out of her shell.
Even her painting is taking on a different tone, with surer strokes and
realistic lines. My chest puffs with pride, because I'm the one responsible
for it. My mind flips back to last week when she jerked me off in class.
I hadn't meant for things to go that far, and would've bet money on her
snatching her hand away once I pulled out my cock. But she didn't and I
once she started, I couldn't for the life of me find the strength to tell her to
stop.
She joins me on the couch and I pull her into my lap so I can make sure
no one else can get close enough to touch her. I dig my fingers into her legs
when she shifts around, trying to slide back onto the cushion beside me.
"I suggest you sit still, unless you want me to take you right here." I
warn.
"I'm not struggling."
"Your sexy ass is moving against me. My cock doesn't know the
difference."
"You're incorrigible."
 "And your pussy is addictive. I'm just trying to get another hit."
"Well, if you'd let me sit on the couch, you wouldn't have this problem."
"Yes, Jordy. I would."
She shifts one more time before finally getting comfortable and relaxes
against me. She and Tabitha are talking about the team her sister will travel
with for her winter basketball league and she tells Frankie why the car he's
jonesing for isn't as great as the classic she saw at a car show three years
ago.
Things are going great and I'm having a good time until someone
mentions the word games.
We start with Never Have I Ever. This one comes with a twist. If you
have, you have to remove the article of clothing, mentioned and give them
to the person of your choosing. This is a game the girls like to play because
they dump their bras and panties in my lap. The person with the most
clothes on at the end of the night, loses.
"You don't have to play." I whisper against Jordanna's ear.
"No. It's fine. I'll play. It's like you said before, it's a game. I mean,
what's the worse that could happen?"
She goes to the other side of the circle to sit next to Kassidy. We're half
an hour in, and my hands are clenched at my thighs, because Shauna's
asking the questions.
"This one is called panties. Remember, if you have, the panties, or
boxers, come off. So, never have I ever had sex with another person
before."
She's sitting back with a satisfied smirk on her face, sure that Jordanna’s
going to lose this game. We've already talked about keeping the change in
our relationship status between us for now, so my surprise is genuine when
Jordanna reaches under her skirt, slips her panties off and crosses the circle,
dropping them in Shauna's lap.
"Jordanna?" Tabby's gaze darts over to me. "You're not a virgin
anymore?"
Jordy's eyes lock with Shauna's who's eyeing her panties suspiciously,
then shrugs at Tabby, going back to her place in the circle.
She’s pantiless in a dress and just outed herself to this group.
Confidence is sexy as hell on a woman, and it's taking every ounce of
control I have not to drag her into an empty room and fuck her against the
wall until my legs give out.
I feel hung over, but that can’t be it, because I had maybe two drinks the
whole night. It’s more likely that I'm dehydrated. I push my sunglasses onto
the top of my head, looking over at the person dozing in my passenger seat.
We left the party ten minutes after Jordanna's big reveal because the shirts
started coming off and piling up in her lap.
Morons.
I took her back to the studio and spent all night and a good chunk of this
morning reminding her that her pussy belongs to me. If it were up to me
we'd still be sleeping it off in bed, but she has a meeting with her advisor in
an hour.
That's the only reason I brought her back to campus to shower and
change. I could give a fuck if she shows up smelling like me, but she wasn't
quite sold on the idea.
I pull into the driveway in front of her dorm, and lean over to nudge her
awake. And by nudge, I mean I slip my fingers under dress and play with
her pussy. She lets out a quiet, sleepy little moan, spreading her legs,
welcoming my touch. "We're here sleepy head."
"Logan. Don't start." She warns.
"Sure, I won't start, but you gotta stop riding my fingers like this."
She rocks one more time and pushes my hand away. Damn. Almost had
her. She pushes the door open and I pull her back into the seat, leaning over
to help myself to a kiss. She sighs, a sound of contentment in my mouth,
and I gobble it up.
Her lids flutter open, her eyes hazy. A mixture of sleep and lust. "I'll see
you later." I say kissing her once more.
She nods and exits the car, walking up the steps of her dorm, without
looking back. When the doors close behind her, I make a U-turn towards
mine. I guess I need to shower and do some shit today too.
I unlock the door to my room and stifle a groan. When I find the fucker
that gave Bella a key to my room, I'm going to kill them. She pounces on
me, eyes flashing.
"What the fuck are you up to, Logan? Did you get stupid all of a
sudden? This isn't what we do, and you know that."
"What are you ranting about?"
"Someone saw you kissing her."
 I school my face into indifference hiding my response which is oh shit.
"So what?"
"You're not supposed to fall for your conquest, Logan."
I pull a bottle of water out of my fridge, crack the top and drink, giving
myself time to answer, and giving her a chance to think about what the next
words out of her mouth are going to be. I walk over to my desk, settle into
my chair and fire up my laptop.
"I kissed her. Big deal. She's inexperienced and this would be a hard sell
if I don't at least pretend like I'm doing the boyfriend thing. What the fuck is
up with you, Bella? You spend way too much time worrying about my end
of this bet. Perhaps you should worry about yours."
I take another drink. "Or is that why you're here?" I grab my crotch and
shift in my seat. "Ready to concede and give me what I want, with a
blowjob thrown in for good measure?"
"You haven't won anything yet. She may have given up the goods, but
what sweet girl wouldn't want the man she loves to be her first?"
She flutters her eyes and sticks her finger down her throat. "It's not a
win, unless her image is as black as your twisted little heart. I want her to
have the full Logan McKay treatment."
She stomps over to the front door on her two thousand dollar heels.
"You've got a month left, or the next time we speak about the terms, I'll
have daddy's lawyer present with my employment contract for you and your
father to sign."
Bella will do anything to win and is always trying to find a way to get
out from under my thumb. If I lose this bet, there will be no containing her.
Jordanna's walk on the wild side is about to become a sprint.

It's now or never. I can't lose control of the VP spot because I'm getting soft
on a girl. No matter how hot the sex is. We're in the art studio on campus,
and I'm watching Jordy touch up the lines on her latest drawing. "Are you
happy being with me?"
Her hand stills, and she pivots on her stool. "Of course. Why would you
ask that?"
 "I guess sometimes I think of what you gave up to be with me, and I
wonder if you regret it."
"Do I regret losing my virginity?"
"And the boyfriend you had when we met. I know I wasn't nice to you
in the beginning, and yet somehow you're here with me." I shrug and look
away. "A part of me expects you to change your mind about us."
"What do I have to do to convince you that I forgive you for before, and
that I'm not going anywhere?"
"Come on, Jordy. I wasn't a saint when you met me, and I'm not going
to pretend like I've never experimented in the bedroom. I know how these
things can go."
Her brows furrow, a worry line creasing her forehead. "It sounds like
you're not satisfied with me."
"I'm trying to be good for you. Worthy of you. But there's a part of
me…"
She swallows thickly. "You need more."
I rake my hands through my hair. "Fuck. I don't know what's wrong
with me. You're the perfect girl. So sweet. So innocent. That should be
enough."
"But it's not."
"I don't wanna lie to you, Jordy. But no. This isn't enough for me."
"You're breaking up with me. Again?"
I rush over, taking her hands in mine. "No. Fuck no. This is coming out
all wrong. I want us to do different things. Together. But I haven't said
anything because I know you'll look at me differently."
"No. I won't." I give her a look that says don't bullshit a bullshitter.
"Okay. Maybe I will. But you promised to always be straight with me, so
tell me anyway."
"Do you remember when Patrick had his hand around your neck?"
"Yes." Her hand goes to her throat, and her eyes mist over, as she
remembers the way he held her by her neck.
"Did you like it?"
"No!"
"I didn't either." I trail my fingers over her neck, pressing them against
her pulse points. "But only because I wanted to be the one holding you
against the wall like that. Squeezing this long neck. While I fucked you."
"Logan!"
 "Does that horrify you, Jordy?"
"Yes." She nods, eyes wide. "That's an awful thing to say."
"I told you. Now you think I'm a monster."
"I think it's a twisted joke to tell your girlfriend, and if you were going
for shock value, you've accomplished it."
I put her hand against my cock. "Do you feel how hard I am, just
thinking about it? It's not a joke, Jordy."
"Why would trying to make me black out excite you?"
"Baby, you got it all wrong. I don't want you to black out and I would
never hurt you." My hand glides along the back of her neck. "I want to hold
you down, and fuck you hard."
My lips skim the shell of her ear. A shiver runs down her back. "I know
that may sound scary, but I think your body can take a good pounding. Just
like you finally stopped blushing anytime you see a naked body, I think
you'll embrace a little more adventure in our sex life."
"Adventure?" She gasps as I pull on her nipple.
"Yes. Not so vanilla. Vanilla is for debutante school girls. Jordanna,
you're all woman." She's wearing a tank and yoga pants under her smock. I
slip my hands under the waistband, seeking out her clit. She rocks against
my hand, eyes closed as I finger her.
"Logan." She entreats in a choppy breath. "Somebody might see."
"There's no one here but us."
"Stop. Logan, I said stop." She pushes my hand away, straightening her
clothes.
"Why?"
"I'm not comfortable with this."
"This is what I'm talking about, Jordy. I wanna make you feel good right
now, and you're so worried someone might come in here, you won't let
yourself relax and enjoy it. Was I worried when you jerked me off in class?
No, because it was hot as fuck and I needed you."
"It's not the same thing. It was dark and no one could see us." Her eyes
narrow. "Wait, is this what you used to do with them?"
I can only assume she's referring to all the women I've been with before.
"Fuck those other women. This isn't about them. This is about us and our
relationship, and the fact that you don't care that I'm not satisfied."
"Don't use my inexperience as an excuse. Not again."
 "The fact that I'm your first isn't the problem. You wanting me to play
some saint. Some pussy whipped schoolboy with his first taste is. I'm a man
Jordanna and I have needs and desires that go beyond holding your hand
while we walk to class. I thought we dealt with this before. When you came
back to me, you said that I was it. That you were choosing to really be with
me in every way. But how the hell do I really know what happened when
you went to your old stomping grounds? Maybe I was just the test ride and
now you're ready to go back to prince charming after all."
I leave her with that thought lingering between us. It's manipulative and
wrong, but I have to pluck on that string.
She was shocked I mentioned rough sex, but she wasn't horrified at the
idea. Not entirely. And even though she hasn't admitted it, I could tell she
liked jerking me off in class. She also loves the way I touch her in public,
even when she tells me not to.
I just gave her the shove she needs to embrace that desire.

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 CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

I feel like shit. My eyes hurt, my head hurts, and I can't breathe. When I
mentioned to Kassidy that I felt like I was catching the flu, she laughed
at me. For like a whole ten minutes, she laughed, with tears running down
her face, and told me I wasn't catching the flu, I was going through
withdrawals from Logan's penis.
I threw a couch cushion at her, telling her that wasn't a real thing, and
then she proceeded to tell me about the number of girls she's witnessed with
similar symptoms.
They all had Logan and his penis at the center of their illness. Some
healed when he paid them attention again. Others eventually got over it by
getting it on with someone else in his inner circle. I told her that sounded
pathetic. She agreed and told me that if I didn't get my ass off the couch, I
would be joining the pathetic club.
So here I am, in the cafeteria trying to get some crackers and tea to help
settle my stomach. Because Kassidy is fun and smart, but she's not licensed
to practice medicine or psychology, so I'm dismissing her diagnosis all
together.
I sit at a table in the corner of the room, looking out over the patio. My
back is to the front door, but I know. Somehow, I just know he’s walked in. I
turn in my seat and sure enough he's here, walking over to his table.
It's been three days since we had the conversation about him choking
me out. I looked it up. Some people really are into that sort of thing, but
nothing about Logan ever made me think he'd be into kink. I'm not. Into it. I
like sex the way we do it. But respect him for telling me that it's not
enough. I knew going in that I probably wouldn't be able to hold his
attention for long.
His gaze slides over the room, bored, aloof. It's the mask he puts on
when he's feeling like he has an obligation to fulfill. When we're alone in
the studio, he smiles more. He laughs a lot, and he doesn't look like he's
carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He sees me and the tea with honey that was coating my throat moments
before is no longer doing the trick.
My throat constricts, my mouth goes dry and my stomach feels like the
bottom has just fallen out of it. That bitch, again? That's the first thing that
comes to mind when Shauna sits in his lap.
I storm over to where he's sitting, glaring at her, then him. "Move." I
hiss.
"Excuse me, charity?"
"I said, move. That's my spot."
She looks at Logan and chuckles. "I think you're mistaken. Right,
Logan."
He doesn't move, agree, or even disagree. He just lets her sit there,
eyeballing me. I step back; the air leaves my lungs, and my eyes sting with
unshed tears. He's not missing me. Not in the least. Fine. I see how it is. I
turn towards the entrance and stomp towards the dorm.

I'm the editor of the school paper. Eventually, I'll be running a media
empire. And yet, when Jordanna confronted Shauna, I didn't know what to
say. I thought she was gonna yank Shauna from my lap and a part of me
would have enjoyed seeing that.
But in the three days since I told Jordanna I needed more, she hadn't
called or texted or done anything to reach out to me. So I was caught off
guard when she walked up to the table, staking her claim to me. She was
jealous. That much was obvious. But it was Tabitha's warning that Jordanna
looked pissed, that had me on high alert.
I was expecting a flat tire or scratches in my car. Jordanna getting
wasted at a swap night party is what I got. She's on her third beer dancing
with anyone and everyone who asks.
I'm listening to my friends, while also trying to keep an eye on her.
Shauna ran her mouth, to anyone who would listen, about how I ignored
Jordy when she threw her little fit in the cafeteria.
The fact that she's here tonight speaks volumes. I see her good buddies
Tobias and Will staring at her like she's fresh meat. When another guy pulls
her close for a dance, I set my drink down and cross the room to the
makeshift dance area. She sees me coming and when I stop in front of her;
she shakes her head, no, before I even have a chance to open my mouth to
speak.
"It's time to go Jordy."
"You wanna go. Go. Go with all the girls. When I go, I'm going to the
bathroom."
My jaw clenches at her veiled threat. The rules to swap night still stand.
You don't go to the bathroom alone unless you wanna get fucked. She
doesn't get a pass, just because she's my girlfriend. "If you need to pee,
you're gonna hold it until you get home."
She walks off towards the hall that contains one of the downstairs
powder rooms. "You know Logan, I've decided I'm finally ready to fit in
around here. Get the full VDU experience."
"I suggest you live vicariously through people's Prospectus posts
because you won't be participating in it."
"Watch me."
I grab her by the arm, pushing her against the wall. "Is that a threat,
Jordy?"
"It's a promise. You're clearly done with me, so I'm done with you too."
I rub my nose against her jaw. "Oh sweet, sweet Jordy. We are so far
from done."
 She juts that defiant little chin out; her back straightens, and she locks
eyes with me. Strong, brave. Perfect.
"It's been damn near a week, Logan. Clearly you've been in someone
else's bed. So yeah. We're done."
"Are you saying you don't want me anymore, Jordy?"
"That's right. I'm over you."
I slam my mouth against hers, punishing her for her words, demanding
she takes them back. She bites my lip, crashing her teeth against mine. I feel
it all. The kiss is angry. Hurt. Volatile. She wants to fight me. Then we'll
fight.
"You wanna end this Jordanna. Fine. We'll end this, but not until we
talk."
"We have nothing to talk about. I'm done letting you use other women
to hurt me."
"I'm not fucking with Shauna, you know this."
"If it's not Shauna, then whose bed have you been in? It sure as shit isn't
mine, and you let her sit all over you even after I told her to move. You
didn't say anything, so excuse me if I don't believe you. What did you say?
Actions speak louder than words?" She hurls those last words like a curse.
"You're right. They do." I reach under her dress, shredding her panties
and drop to my knees. Her hands push at my shoulders when my tongue
touches her, then the push turns to pets and then her hands are in my hair,
pulling me closer as she grinds against my face.
I lift my head, licking her juices from my lips. "I've never fucked
Shauna, and I never will." I promise before pressing my thumb against her
clit. "Tell me you still want me, Jordy. Tell me you're still mine."
"I. I-"
She quivers against me, and I rise to my feet, pressing my lips to her ear
as I grind against her. "Please, baby. I need to hear you say it."
"You promise, you won't sleep with her?"
"Never."
She fumbles with my pants. "I'm still yours."
Her hand strokes me from base to tip. I'm hard as concrete, and I'm
seconds away from doing something stupid. Well, more stupid than what I
just did. It was a stupid risk. Anyone could have come through and caught
me on my knees. “We should go."
"Logan, I need you now."
 "I know baby, but unless you want an audience, we can't do this here."
I gather her torn panties off the floor, placing them in my pocket and
lead her out the front door. As soon as I'm behind the wheel of my car, I
floor it, kicking up gravel on the road. "Where are we going? Campus is the
other way."
The way she's clenching her legs together and running her hands up and
down her thighs, we're not going to make it to the dorms. I take the curve
down to the bottom of the bluff, pulling my car onto the overlook at the
edge of town. I unfasten my seatbelt and go to the passenger side, flinging
the door open and pull her from the car.
Turning her to face the hood, I flip her skirt up over her waist. I tear the
condom open, quickly rolling it down my length, and line myself up with
her opening.
"Fuck." I grunt, surging forward. "Hold on." My hand presses against
her spine. "This is gonna be quick and hard, but I promise to do right by
you when we get back to my room."
Her hands are out in front of her, unable to find purchase on the waxed
hood of my car. She's on her toes, as I slam into her again and again. Her
breathy moans are choppy as she struggles to breathe. My powerful strokes
unrelenting. I hold her in place by the back of her neck. "Whose pussy is
this Jordanna?"
We're making up, but the lingering effects of our fight are still with me,
so I punish her pussy, until she stops holding back, finally crying out.
"Yours Logan. It's yours."
That confirmation. That affirmation. Pushes me over the edge. I finally
release, collapsing against her back. My nose nuzzles her ear. "I missed
you, baby."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

S hauna glares at me from her perch beside Hal, and I resist the urge to
stick my tongue out at her like a toddler.
"What did you do? Piss in her cheerios?" Kassidy asks as we approach
the counter at the coffee shop.
"Worse. Logan and I made up, and she's on the outs again."
"Again? Honey, she was never on the in. She just keeps hoping that new
boob job she's got is enough to reel him in."
"Well, in the beginning of the semester he was into her. Or them."
"No, he was into the idea of squeezing his dick between them. Trust me,
it was never going to go any further than that."
"How do you know?"
"Because I know Logan. She'd already been messing around with two
guys in his social circle before the semester began. Logan doesn't care if
you hook up with someone after him, but he's got this rule about being the
first person you fuck in his little twisted group. His ego won't let him do it
any other way. Not to mention, he hates when girls throw themselves at
him. Men like the chase and Logan is all man."
On that I can agree, even if I don't believe he would have turned Shauna
down if we weren't together.
"You wanna watch a movie tonight?" She asks after we place our
orders.
"Can't. I need to work on my exhibit.”
"How’s it coming along?"
 "Great, though I'd be further along, if Logan wasn't distracting me all
the time."
She smirks at me over her mug. "Yeah but what a distraction to have,
right?"

Logan: Why are you sitting way over there?

Me: Because I'm having coffee with my friend and we need alone time
Logan: I need alone time, too
Me: You saw me this morning
Logan: That was forever ago. I miss you.
Me: Miss you, too
Logan: Send me a pic so I can stare at you until I see you again
I roll my eyes, at his request.
Me: Don't have any
Logan: We need to rectify that

Logan was serious about the picture. As soon as I walked through the door,
he shoved a camera in my face. I played along, letting him take silly shots,
and begged him not to add any of them as his screen saver.
We finished eating an hour ago and now we're both focused on our
submissions for the symposium. I step back to admire my canvas, still not
getting that total it factor I'm looking for. It's good, but there's still a lot of
work to be done in this last month before I have to turn it in.
My hand strokes down the curve of Jordy's back and then back up again.
She drifted off to sleep an hour ago while I was still on the roof soldering
my sculpture. I like being here with her, like this, away from school and the
pressures of my friends. Working and sleeping in my bed.
I didn't know when this started how funny, or smart or sweet she'd turn
out to be. I didn't know that I would actually enjoy getting to know her. And
that spark underneath. That fire when we fight. It's exhilarating and
exciting. And the sex. She's inexperienced, but she's giving and receptive to
my touch. Easily the best sex I've ever had.
I slip out of bed, picking up my camera, zooming in on her face, and
press the shutter. Her eyes flutter open, hooded, and I click again.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking your picture."
"Of me sleeping? That's creepy."
"Fully relaxed and at ease. It's beautiful." I snap another when she
stretches.
"Okay. That's enough."
"I told you I wanted a picture of you to keep with me."
"No nudes though. One of your friends might see it."
"These are for me." I push the sheet aside, revealing her leg, and snap
again. Then I touch it, traveling my fingers up to her hip and take another
photo. I tease her with my hands and my mouth, snapping as her arousal
builds. "Beautiful. So fucking beautiful."
 I keep the camera close by when I enter her, mesmerized by the look on
her face. When she tightens around me, I pick it up again and catch her in
that moment, immortalizing it forever.

Bella comes into the Life Study class after it dismisses. Jordanna dashed off
to see her advisor, and I'm thankful the two of them didn't have to cross
paths.
"Another weekend getaway?" Bella taunts. "You keep taking off. Is the
pauper princess uncomfortable screwing on thousand count bed sheets? Or
does she force you to have family dinner with her mommy and wittle sister”,
she says in a baby voice, “So she doesn't feel guilty for letting you touch
her at night?"
"What difference does it make where I spend my weekends? You
already know Jordy and I are together."
"You're not together. She's your fuck doll, and she's the only one of us
who doesn't know it."
I remember not to gag when she walks her hand up my arm. "Tell me,
what new level of kink did you introduce her to this weekend?"
"As long as we've known each other, have I ever been one to kiss and
tell?"
"No, which is why the whole proof thing exists. We can never tell if
you're bullshitting us or not."
"I think we've already covered she's not a virgin anymore."
"Oh yes, the game. Who could forget? Of course she never specifically
named you as her conqueror and she could've been lying to save face."
"What else do you want from me, Bella. I did what I agreed to, in the
spirit of the bet."
"The spirit of the bet isn't Suzy homemaker missionary style. We agreed
you'd corrupt her. There's no video evidence of anything, and she certainly
doesn't look corrupted to me. In fact, she looks like she's ready to pick out
registry items for engagement gifts with you."
She picks up a paintbrush and swishes it back and forth across the palm
of her hand. "Of course, if you want to lose the bet, that's fine. Just make
sure daddy dearest spells my name correctly on those options."
 "The only company letterhead your name will touch is a rejection
letter." She stops swooshing. "You forget I always document my end of the
deal."
"So why haven't I seen any of this proof?"
"Art takes time. Isn't the fact that I get creative with the display boards,
part of the fun?"
"So you're doing what you always do?"
"Of course."
She seems appeased. "Good, then I look forward to seeing your latest
masterpiece."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

I collapse on the bed, winded as if I just ran a marathon. Logan unties the
rope around my wrists and removes the blind fold. We've been
experimenting with a few things like light bondage (which I don't mind)
and wax (hard pass, because I don't like the feeling of being burned no
matter how quick it goes away). And last week he convinced me to sit
through a porno, (what he called art cinema), while he brought me close to
orgasm again and again. Until I finally and truly begged him to let me cum.
"You okay?" He asks, drawing lazy circles across my back.
"Mm. I could sleep for a week."
"It wasn't too much? You don't hate me for asking you to do it?"
"Hate you? Logan, I lo-" I clamp my mouth shut. Was I about to say the
L word? I hope he doesn't notice.
His voice quiets, and he strokes his fingers down my cheeks. "You what
Jordy?"
"Nothing. I liked it, and you didn't do anything I didn't want you to do."
"Is that what you were really going to say?"
"Yes." I roll over and check my phone. "Shit." I spring out of bed. "I
need to head to my dorm to shower before my next class, since I didn't
know lunch was going to end up like this."
He flashes me a cocky grin. "Didn't you though?"
I finish pulling my clothes on and lean over to kiss him. "I'll see you
later?"
He nods, and I bound through the door, a grin on my face. Yeah, he's
right, I knew there was a chance lunch would end like this.
 I focus on what I have to do these next few days, instead of what I
almost said in Logan's dorm room. The words were there, ready to spill
from my lips. I didn't say them, not because I didn't mean them, but because
I did. Somewhere along the way, I've fallen in love with Logan McKay.

Jordanna scoots her chair away from me when I sit next to her in the library.
Okay, that's odd. I study her body language. She's tense and distracted. I
look around to see if one of my idiot friends or stalkers may have come
over here and said something to upset her. I don't see anyone, but that
doesn't mean they didn't.
"Jordy." She pulls her hand away when I go to touch her. Shit. She said
she was okay after what happened yesterday, but maybe I should have
checked in with her again. I try again. "Jordy, what's going on?"
"Nothing."
"You won't let me touch you and I can see something is bothering you.
Are you having second thoughts about what we did?"
She shakes her head, no.
"Then why are you upset with me?"
"I'm not."
"Don't lie. You can barely look at me. I'm sorry if I pushed too hard. I
thought… I'm sorry."
"Logan, it's not what we did. That was fun. I told you I liked it."
"Then why-"
 "I love you." She blurts out. "I didn't know if I should say it, or not, and
I wasn't going to. But it felt wrong not to. And then I was trying to work up
the nerve to say it and started worrying that you were gonna hate hearing it,
so. Now it's too late not to say anything, because we agreed to be honest
and this is me being honest. I love you."
I sit back in my chair as if knocked over with a wrecking ball. I
suspected she was on the verge of saying it, but she didn't so I didn't want to
push it. Because I didn't think I wanted to hear it.
"I know it's too soon, and I don't expect for you to say anything back,
but I just needed to get it off my chest, now let’s just pretend I didn’t say
anything at all.”
"I don't wanna pretend, Jordy."
"You don't?"
"No." I stroke the back of her hand.
"It doesn't freak you out?"
It should. It usually does, because I understand how serious those words
are for women, even if sometimes I think they throw them out there
indiscriminately.
"Nope." I turn back to my book to study. Her knee resumes its bouncing
under the table. I place my hand on it and pull her chair closer to me. "Look
at me."
She raises her eyes to meet mine, and I see the fear there. "Jordanna, I
have never cared about anyone the way I do you. You are a breath of fresh
air, and if I had my way, I'd keep you with me forever."
I pull her into a gentle kiss which soon ratchets up to a hundred, and I
have to tear my mouth away so I don't take her behind the stacks.

Bella's exiting one of the sorority houses on the east end of campus when
Jordanna and I are taking a walk after dinner. There's a chill in the air, and
Jordanna's tucked close to my side. I know Bella sees us, but instead of
walking over to start some shit, she makes a big display of checking the
time on her watch.
I turn us left on the sidewalk, leaving Bella's look of amusement behind
us. My phone chimes and I ignore it until I get back to my room.
You two look super cozy. You're so convincing in the role of doting
boyfriend, that she'll never see your betrayal coming. Can't wait until we
pull the rug out from under her. Tik-Tok

My jaw ticks. I know she's right, I'm running out of time. Bella's letting me
handle this my way, but I know she's getting suspicious and questioning my
ability to see this through to the end. She's worried I'm getting caught up
with Jordanna and that my feelings are real, and as we all know, an
emotional attachment to any mark comes with irreversible consequences.
Jordanna’s admitted that she loves me, and I'm that much closer to my
end game. I know what's at stake, but hurting her has lost the appeal it had
in the beginning.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

J ordanna's phone rings, and she sends off a text, a small smile on her
face.
"Your mom?"
"Uh, no. It's Tiff and Marina in our group chat, making fun of Robbie's
latest date."
"You're still in touch with him?"
She looks up from her phone. "No. Not really. I mean, we're still in
some of the same social media groups."
"So just in those groups? Not offline?"
"He's still in our friend chat too, and we're making strides to rebuild our
friendship, but it's still a little weird."
I grab her by the legs, pulling her close and turn us so my body presses
into hers, my hands hold her arms above her head. "You belong to me
Jordy."
"Robbie doesn't want me, and even if he did, I don't want him. I'm in
love with you."
She looks away just like she does every time she says those words to
me. As if she's ashamed of them and I know it's because I haven't said them
back.
"Jordy, I'm crazy about you."
"I know."
Her softly spoken words whisper across my skin. It doesn't fully express
how I feel, but she's mine. Jordanna's hand strokes across my cheek and up
to my hair, her eyes shining up at me.
 I kiss her, growling low from deep in my chest. Our clothes come off
and I sink into her, she's always ready for me, but just like my words were
not enough, neither is this. "I need more, Jordy."
I pull out turning her around and she willingly goes to her knees,
crossing her wrists behind her, and pressing her face in the mattress.
I slam home, her muffled moans filling the air. I grab her hips, pounding
into her. Taking from her. Owning her. Her tight pussy grips me, forcing me
to acknowledge that a part of her owns me too.
"Mine." I growl, rutting into her. The bedsprings squeaks and the heavy
frame of the headboard knocks against the wall. "All. Fucking. Mine."
I put my thumb in her mouth. "Wet it for me." I command. She does,
and when I pull it out, I press it against her taint. We've played with the tip
of my finger. Tonight, I'm wild, needing to know that she wants me. All of
me. I press my thumb inside. She stiffens at the intrusion, her natural
reaction is to fight me. "Relax your ass for me."
"It burns."
"I know. It'll feel good in a sec. I promise." I slow my strokes, bend
down and add some of my own spit to the crack of her ass. Using it to work
the digit around and inside. Slowly, back and forth. Her gasp of discomfort
morphs into pleasure.
"Agh."
"That's it, baby. I told you it would feel good." I increase my stroke,
letting her get used to the feeling of being spread from both ends. Her cunt
clenches around my cock, while her ass squeezes around my thumb.
"God, I can't wait to fuck you, here."
"Me too." She says. That admission floors me and excites me. I quicken
my strokes, pummeling her pussy, needing her to break apart for me. "Cum
for me Jordy."
She shatters around me, and I continue to fuck her, coaxing another out
of her. When she spasms around me from deep inside, I push all the way up,
letting my release take over. "Fuck, baby. Fuck." I collapse against her
back, pushing her into the mattress.
I manage to roll myself to the side, pulling her along with me. I stroke
her hair, enjoying the quiet moments of just being near her.
"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in." Tabitha teases as I take the seat
next to her in the booth at the cafe. "Feels like I haven't seen you in days.
Where you been hiding?"
"I haven't been hiding. I've been at the studio, or the paper."
"Or with, Jordanna." She adds.
I tense, not wanting to talk about Jordanna with Tabitha, or anyone else
for that matter. "What about you?" I ask, deflecting the conversation onto
her. "What's new?"
"Well, Cheryl's got this new and crazy idea to make a documentary. Can
you believe it?" She rolls her eyes dramatically. "As if we don't already live
in a fishbowl. I mean, who does she think hasn't heard of us or know our
family history by now?"
If there is anyone around still clueless about them, they're living under a
rock.
Hal and Frankie show up next, and we make small talk about the plans
for our end of semester celebration. This one will be epic and the first
introduction some people will get to The Rift. The parties thrown this
semester were just a warmup.
Bella finally arrives, and I go on high alert. She's calm and smiling,
which is never good. "What's got you so happy?"
"Oh, you know, I love when my dad is all apologetic for standing me up
for lunch."
I relax, leaning back in my seat. That means she's negotiating an
expensive apology gift.
"What are you asking for this time?" Hal asks, leaning over to read her
messages.
"I started with a condo in Maui. But I might be willing to settle for a
Tesla, unless something else comes up." She lowers her phone. "I'll know
the final outcome before I leave for Christmas break." She smiles at me.
"It'll be a double celebration."
Tabitha glances at me out the corner of her eye, and asks, "How do you
mean?"
"Because this game will finally come to an end, and the administration
will see Jordanna for the blight she is on our reputation. She'll be ruined and
bounced from school."
Bella rubs her hands together. "I can't wait to see the look on her face
when it all comes crashing down around her." She drops her smile. "You are
still onboard with the bet, right Logan?"
"And if I say I'm not, what are you really gonna do about it?"
She narrows her eyes, and before she can answer, Hal jumps in. "Of
course he is. This is Logan, we're talking about. There's no way he's not
gonna win. Let you get one up on him for a piece of ass? That'll never
happen."
Frankie agrees, and Tabitha steers the conversation onto neutral ground.
An hour later, we’ve finalized the guest list and rules for the end-of-year
party. Bella makes one more snarky comment about the bet, and then
everyone disperses to do their own thing.
When Tabby and I are alone again, she reaches over to squeeze my
hand. "Some days I hope she trips, hits her head in the shower, winds up in
a coma, and wakes up months later with amnesia."
"That's rough."
"That's probably the only way she'd take time off from being a cold-
hearted bitch."

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

"I thought we were having a relaxing weekend." Jordy says as I wait for
her to put her toiletries in an overnight bag.
"We are. We just won't be hanging out around campus."
We've spent the last two weeks holed up in my dorm room or studio.
Fucking and working. I thought it would be nice to get away from campus
for a while. I nudge her towards the elevator and out of the building. She
smiles and waves at the driver as he puts her bags in the trunk and I roll my
eyes at how much taller he stands when she compliments his tie.
She spent most of the ride trying to guess where we're going and even
tried to seduce me into giving up my secret. I took over the torturing, and
by the time we finished, I had her spilling a secret of her own about her
relationship with her stepfather.
"We'll be on our way in a few, I just have to check something out, real
quick," I say when the car stops in front of the William Vale, Brooklyn.
"You can come in with me if you want."
I lead her past the front desk and usher her into the elevator. "Logan,
why do you have a key to penthouse?" She asks when I swipe the card for
the top floor.
"A buddy of mine loaned it to me so we could look at the artwork on the
walls." I unlock the door and follow her into the foyer.
She steps closer to the painting just inside the entryway. "I recognize the
name. This one is from a local artist." I detect the note of awe in her voice.
We tour the penthouse in silence and I watch her go from one room to
the other, listening as she narrates her journey or vocalizes her thoughts.
When we're done, she turns and places a kiss on my cheek. "It was really
nice of you to arrange for me to see these. Thank you." She says, before
turning towards the door.
“Where are you going?"
"Back downstairs so the people renting this room can have their space
back."
I link our fingers together and pull her toward the table with the chilled
champagne behind me. "Baby, The Vale Garden Residence is our home for
the weekend."
Her face goes through a myriad of emotions and she opens and closes
her mouth like a guppy. "Is this good silence or is it I've overstepped my
bounds silence?"
She nods, "It's too much, Logan."
"No, Jordy. It's not enough. You deserve to be spoiled, and this is the
weekend I'm going to do it." I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on
top of her head. I'll spoil her rotten for the next two days, because unless I
figure out a way to win the game and keep from hurting her, she'll never
even look at me again.

I lower myself to the edge of the jacuzzi, sitting the bottle of champagne
beside me. The water from the jets swirl around my ankles. "Okay. Truth or
dare?" I ask, refilling her glass.
"Dare."
"I dare you to take control."
"Huh?" She flushes, and it's not from the heat from the water she's
sitting in.
"I want you to take control tonight. Whatever you want, you demand it.
Whatever you want to do to me, whatever your fantasy is, don't think about
whether you should, or shouldn't; just go with it."
She sips her drink, thinking about my dare and balances the glass on the
ledge behind her. I sit on the edge of the jacuzzi and watch, mesmerized as
she discards her top, and wades through the water towards me.
When she gets closer, she pushes her hands against my knees. I part my
legs, giving her room to fit between them. I'm expecting her to kiss me, the
way she did in the car. That's as far as she ever gets in initiating sex with us.
Instead, she sinks to her knees and wraps her hand around my cock. My
teeth clamp together when her mouth closes around my shaft.
"Agh, fuck. That feels good."
She eases into her cadence, and I hold her head against me. Now that
she's started, I don't want her to stop. She pushes my hand aside, reminding
me she's in control, and pops off with a loud slurp.
Before I can complain she leans closer, to fondle and pet my balls,
before sucking one into her mouth. Her tongue darts around it, while her
hand pistons up and down my length, showing me she remembers what I
taught her that first day in class. I pull her hand and mouth away, because if
I let her keep this up, I'll be spilling in no time.
I ease into the bubbling water and help her out of her panties.
"What happened to I'm running things?”
"Um, we'll get back to that later. Right now, I need to be inside you."
Hurriedly, I roll on a condom, entering her with one fluid stroke, and
with the backdrop of the city behind us; I pound into her, claiming her body
as my own. The wind captures and carries away her screams as she falls
apart.
Once is not enough. It's never enough. I take her again and again. On
the patio chair, against the floor to ceiling glass windows and in the rain
shower, until her legs no longer support her weight. I lie her on the bed,
both of us exhausted from good food, champagne and orgasms.
In the quiet of the night, listening to her breath, I feel happier and more
settled than I have in years. "I know I haven't said it, but you mean the
world to me, Jordy."
"I know."
I tilt her head to look up at me. "No, you don't know. I've never felt this
way about anyone, and I can't bear the thought of losing you."
"You won't lose me, Logan."
"There are things about me, you still don't know."
"I know everything I need to. You're sweet and kind. And an infuriating
asshole. But I know you care about me. You might not be able to say the
words, but you treat me like you love me." She lays her head back down.
"And that's all that matters."
"Jordy." I say when her breathing levels off.
"Hmm?"
 "I do love you."
"I know."
I listen to her sleep, trying to formulate a plan in my head. I'm the king
of the school because I can outmaneuver anybody. There has to be a way I
can keep this. Keep her and still come out on top.

I wake with a jolt in the early morning, looking around the room. The sound
of her soft snores soothe the remnants of my unsettling dream. She's here
with me. Content. Safe. No one’s taking her from me, not tonight.
I pull her close, burying my nose in her hair, holding her tight as if she
might disappear at any minute. Her hand slides softly up and down my arm
as she snuggles against my side. My hand cups her breast and I press
against her. The desire to be closer claws at me.
Leaning over, I claim her mouth, my hand going to her waist rolling her
onto her back. She's kisses me back in her sleep. Always so receptive to my
touch. My tongue plunders her mouth, looking for absolution there, while
my fingers slip between her slick folds. Her breathy moan touches
something inside me. She's barely awake when I sheath myself and slip into
her welcoming heat.
I slide in and out of her in slow, deep strokes. I've been giving her all of
her firsts, but this is a first for me. Allowing myself to feel something. To
acknowledge a connection. Making love to a woman.
I'm buried deep inside her, and I know that this -letting myself feel
something other than primal need- goes against everything I believe, and
everything I've done. It could undo everything I work so hard to maintain
control of, and yet; I'm afraid for this moment to end.
Jordanna holds me against her body and still I'm not close enough. I’m
the cruel devil she’s accused me of being and I want everything from her,
but she’s demanding the same from me. In this moment, I concede control
and fall under her spell. I tell myself it's just for tonight. That I'm stealing a
piece of heaven for myself and things will go back to normal tomorrow.
I ignore the nagging feeling that nothing will be the same after this.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FIFTY

"S omebody is blowing up your phone." Kassidy teases, walking over to

the couch with a bowl of popcorn in her hand. "Is Mr. McKay going
through withdrawals? Tell him he survived close to twenty-one years
without you. One more night won't kill him."
I chuckle at her joke. We've been inseparable since our weekend
getaway two weeks ago. He finally said it. He loves me and I couldn't be
happier. We're practically living together at the studio, but I told him I
needed to spend time with Kassidy too. It took convincing, but he finally
agreed to let me out of his sight, and his bed, for more than just classes. "It's
not Logan. In fact, I haven't heard from him all day."
"Oh, so he can handle being apart."
"I'm sure he's just busy, holed up in the studio, since there's only one
more week before the symposium." I put the finishing touches on my
painting days ago, and I'm proud of how it turned out.

My phone buzzes again.

Robbie: We need to talk. Be on campus tomorrow. Meet me outside the
library at eleven.
Me: I have plans at eleven
Robbie: This won't take long. It's important, and come alone.
Me: Fine
Robbie's text was cryptic and because he came up here in the middle of the
school week, and because we were friends before we started dating, I honor
his wishes and meet him alone. He's growing his hair out, and has a few
bags under his eyes, but other than that he looks the same. Good.
"Thanks for meeting me."
"I'm still not sure why I did, or why you're here."
He nods, and says, “I ran into your mom. She didn't know that we
weren't together anymore."
"I didn't tell her, because I figured it was a conversation we should have
in person. You know how she gets."
"Yeah, well, now she's worried about you too since you're keeping
things from her. She can't take time off from work and Summer's got games,
so she asked me to look in on you."
He looks away as if he can't stand to see me. If he's so put off by my
presence, why didn't he just text whatever he needs to say?
"Look, Jordanna, your relationship with your mom is your business, and
I wasn't going to come. And then I got these." He says, passing me an
envelope.
I slip open the flap and look inside. Nausea roils through my stomach
and I almost double over in pain. "Where did you get these?" The hand
fisting the pictures and negatives shakes.
"They were in my student mailbox yesterday."
"I don't understand." I squeeze my eyes shut as if that will make what
I'm seeing go away. But of course it doesn't work like that. It's all here.
Every night, every pose, every angle in high gloss. Someone delivered
moments that should have remained private to my exes mailbox.
"Evidently, somebody wanted me to know how much of a hypocrite you
are." I see the anger and disgust before he has a chance to look away again.
"I never cheated on you, Robbie. It was you with another woman in
your dorm room the day I came to see you. While we were still together.
This was after we broke up, and it was none of your business."
His shoulders slump. "I know Jordanna. I know. But why would you
film it?”
"Are you even hearing yourself right now? I didn't."
He snatches a photo from me. "I might not have had sex with you, or
know what your body looks like totally naked, but I can see your face.
You're in every shot, and that's the guy Logan. Guess you guys got friendly
working on your class project together. Geez, Jordanna, what were you
thinking?"
"That he's my boyfriend, and I wanted to make him happy."
"I would've made you happy and it wouldn't have been like this."
I study his face as he grips the envelope. I can't tell if he's mad that I
gave up my virginity to Logan, or because he received evidence that my
foray into sex didn't stop with basic missionary and hand jobs.
"There's something else."
How could there be more. There's enough stuff in here to blacklist me
with any company that has a morality clause.
He rubs the back of his neck. "There's a guy at school, who I guess had
a cousin that went to VDU last year. It turns out your new friends do this
type of shit all the time."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean they film people having sex, and blast it around school."
"Out of spite?" I know Bella dislikes me, but would she go so far as to
do this? Would she risk her friendship with Logan to spite me?
"It's a game. They do it for fun. He said his cousin found out the whole
school was in on it. She wasn't the same, after that, and had to leave
school."
Bella loves her games, winding people up and making them march on
her time frame. My voice sounds as if I'm standing in a tunnel. "Are you
telling me somebody filmed us because of some type of game that I didn't
sign up to play?"
"Yeah, and I'm willing to bet, your virginity was the prize. I don't know
why I got these. Maybe they thought I'd still care enough to come up here
and confront Logan and get into a fight or something." He shrugs. "Who
knows what type of weird shit gets these elitists their thrills."
"I can't believe this is happening."
He places a hand on my shoulder. I see it, but I can't feel it. "What are
you gonna do?"
"Get some answers." I turn heading north on campus. I'm on autopilot
walking into the dining hall. The smile on Logan's face falters when he sees
Robbie behind me. I know he has some reservations about my friendship
with him, but I don't owe him an explanation about shit. It's his friends who
need to say something to me.
 I shove the envelope against Bella's chest. "I think these must've gotten
lost in the mail."
The pictures I held in my hand float to the floor. "Whose in on it? You
Tabitha? Frankie, Hal." I ask, looking around the table. "I'm sure Bella's the
mastermind behind this sick little joke, because god knows none of you
ever showed a spine or individual thought of your own."
Bella hands the envelope to Logan. "Seems like the game is up." She
inspects her nails, her venomous voice making my skin crawl. "It's a shame
really, we were dying to see how much further we could push you before
the semester ended, weren't we, Logan?"
"We?" My voice goes horse, as she inches closer to my boyfriend.
"We?" My eyes go to the man I've spent so many nights with. The man who
I gave myself to. He hasn't said a word. "There's no way Logan, was in on
it."
"Of course he was. I told him I doubted anyone could pop your cherry,
and he insisted he wanted to take that wager." She sneers at me. "Men can
never resist the allure of a virgin."
She picks up the envelope and pulls out another set of pictures, sifting
through them like a flip book. "And it looks like he had a damn good time
breaking you in."
Her smile finally reaches her eyes. "I can see you're struggling with this.
Look closely, charity. I wasn’t there taking pictures, and it’s obvious to me
that these are freeze frames of a recording. That's way too many camera
angles to keep track of in Logan's dorm room. Plus, how would I know
what day and time you'd be doing this?" She taps her nail against a picture.
My brain is stuck, trying to make sense of what she's saying. She's right
about the location being his dorm room and she would have needed to be
physically there to catch us in the act.
"It didn't even take much convincing.” She says, Frankie and Hal
nodding in agreement. “He was more than happy to get you to slut it up and
in record time."
She laughs, taking pleasure in my pain. "Look at you. Still not ready to
accept it, are you? You were so convinced that you could take the wicked
king of Vandi U and turn him into a knight. But as you can see, you didn't.
Underneath that warmth that you think you've been cuddling up to at night
is the same heartless bastard he's always been."
 "That's not true. He loves me." My mouth forms the words, but they
lack conviction, because the coldness in his eyes says it all.
"Loves you?" She snorts. "Logan's incapable of feeling anything other
than lust and a need to act out his filthy fantasies."
She turns to the man I gave my heart and body to. "Or am I wrong?
Logan, do you really love her, lov-er?" She crawls into his lap, straddling
him, sifting her hands through his hair, and nibbling at his jaw.
"You know me better than that Bella." He sneers at me over her
shoulder. "Jordanna, you showed up here riding on your moral high horse
threatening the status quo. We told you in the beginning no one likes a narc,
but you refused to fall in line. Then, when we told you to stay out of our
way, you couldn't even do that. Instead, you showed up at our parties,
lording your virginity and purity over us like you were some superior being
because your boyfriend was too much of a pussy to take your cherry."
He looks at Robbie. "Almost two years and not one hit? That's some
willpower." His lips curl in a mocking smile. "You missed out man."
He turns back to me. "So I pretended to care. Pretended to change,
because I was dying to know what you'd be like in bed. To see how far I
could push you." He snares his lower lip between his teeth. "Mmm. Now I
know the answer."
Bella climbs out of his lap, flipping through the pictures again. "Damn,
I think this one might be my favorite."
He looks at the picture, giving me a vindictive smile. "Bella's right, I
wish I had a few more days to see what else I could get you to do. But what
I felt for you, it was never love."
They rise in unison from the table. "Logan, please." I whimper, taking a
step towards him, reaching my hand out to touch his arm.
He grabs it and squeezes, hard enough to inflict pain. "I loved hearing
you beg for me to ravage your body. But now, it's just pathetic."
I stumble backward when he pushes me, Robbie's hands reach out
breaking my fall. Bella links her arm through his and they all walk away,
leaving me a sobbing mess in the dining hall.

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 CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

L ast week's events still weigh on me. When I realized there was no way
I could get out of the bet, I decided I needed to tell Jordy what was
going on, but someone took that opportunity away from me. When she
came to the dining hall, it was already too late; the damage done, and I had
to tell her I'm still the same heartless bastard she thought I was in the
beginning.
It took everything in me, not to snatch my arm away from Bella's
poisonous grip. To hold in everything that was screaming inside me, to tell
Jordy how I really feel.
But I couldn't go against Bella and risk everything. I had to play my
part. Pretend that Jordanna meant nothing to me. I wish I could make her
understand, that I had to stay rooted in place and to keep my mouth closed
for both our sakes.
I'm still under a microscope, and I'm just trying to make it through
tonight's art symposium and auction. Jordanna knows the truth about what I
did, but school's still in session, and the game is still in play. Tonight will be
the final curtain call on our relationship. If I had a soul, I'd ask God to have
mercy on it, for what I'm about to do.
I move to the back of the room and wait for the lights to lower. A
solitary filtered red bulb illuminates the small stage at the front of the
gallery. They bring the anonymous submissions out one at a time for
bidding. The artwork with the highest bid wins an internship with a
prestigious gallery in New York City. This is the last chance for any of our
work to be seen this semester.
 It's a silent auction, and they contact the winning artist at the end of the
night. Of course I know which piece belongs to Jordanna, because I was
there when she painted it. I force myself not to think of those nights, with
paint on her face and her clothes, when we'd eat on the floor of my studio,
work until the early morning hours, and make love in my bed. I watched her
grow as an artist and her work is exquisite.
My sculpture is number fifteen on the auction block. They roll the
heavy form out on a dolly. This act of betrayal is the final nail in the coffin.
The hybrid sculpture and photo collage captures the model throughout
the stages of arousal. She lies in repose, smiling, inviting. It's a lazy and
uninspired piece, but it still captures the intensity of the moment. The colors
on the contours of the clay show the desire and heat on the model's skin.
The sculpture magnifies every insecurity Jordanna has about herself and
highlights a sensual abandon that she never believed she possessed. When
the top frame animates, the last picture slides into place like a puzzle piece
and Jordanna's face fills the frame.
I see her turn in her seat. Searching. I'm one of the few people standing
in the room. Choosing this location, so I'd be easy to spot. Her eyes lock
onto mine and I tip my glass in salute.
Finally, I see the look I've been waiting for. She's finally accepted what
we had is over. I walk coolly towards the exit, signaling her tears, if there
are any left to shed, mean nothing to me. She's hurt. Broken. And there will
be no doubt in anyone's mind that I'm the one who did it to her.

It's the last party of the semester. Bella has conceded that I've satisfied the
terms of our bet in full, and she's already hard at work, plotting her school
domination tour for the spring. I know she went behind my back and had
Montanna Reed hack my camera feed before I could transfer the images to
my secure storage, then sent them to Jordanna's ex.
Montanna will be making amends for invading my privacy for a very
long time. I'll see to that. I had Simon work up a new firewall and change
my security codes. He also wiped Montanna's cloud and left a worm in his
system for if he ever tries some shit like that again.
 Bella's telling anyone who cares to listen, that she finally got her dad to
agree to let her spend the winter break in Paris. The only part of her story or
trip that interests me is the fact that she'll be on the other side of the planet
for six weeks.
Tabitha's who has been watching me all night finally breaks off from the
guy who's been licking her boots to join me on the couch. "How ya doing?"
"What answer do you want me to give?"
"Weren't we on this couch three or four months ago, waxing poetic
about why feelings are the enemy?"
"They're still the enemy. Which is why in five more drinks I won't be
having any.” I gulp my scotch. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd let me get
blackout drunk in peace."
"You didn't have to win the bet, Logan." She's the only one bold enough
to insinuate I'm pissed about the way things turned out.
"There was no way in hell, I was giving Bella the VP position. You
know that."
She nods, because she understands the job comes with more than just
the power and prestige of the title.
When I take over, the VP gets a helluva benefits package that includes a
ten percent stake in the company, for anyone who holds the position for
more than ten years.
The first three percent is guaranteed after the first year, non-negotiable,
and they keep it no matter what. It's why I couldn't lose.
I wasn’t about to tie myself to Bella for the next fifteen to twenty years
of my life. As it is, I can't stand to look at her at all right now.
"I get it, Logan. The Vice President gig was more important than the
girlfriend. But damn, I'm sure the reasons don't make the breakup any
easier.
We humiliated Jordanna, she's in violation of the school's morality
clause and she's getting kicked out of school. Her educational prospects are
shitty, because I doubt Carryville is giving her a scholarship to return."
Bella's watching us like a hawk. She probably has people nearby
eavesdropping on our conversation. What most people don't know, is that
there's a sub-clause in all the contracts we draw up for our bets. If I renege,
or in this case try to undo the damage I inflicted on Jordy, Bella wins by
default.
 "Whatever do you mean, Tabby? It was the easiest breakup I've ever
had."
"Then why are you sitting over here getting wasted, instead of
celebrating your victory?"
"Because, it's the end of the semester and I'm about to start my winter
internship at Wilmington Kurt. There won't be too many opportunities for
drinking myself into oblivion during the break."
"I don't know why you refuse to work for your dad. That way you'd get
to have a life."
"I grew up in that office, one day I'll be running it. I think gaining
experiences outside of him and his expectations are important."
"Plus, it gives you a way to scope out the competition?"
"Exactly." Just one more part of the world to control.
"Are they putting you in the lifestyle section?"
"Only if I'm unlucky. I know Wilmington Kurt hired me because my
name comes with an automatic invite to the hottest parties and events, but
I'd rather work in the editorial or layout department."
Bella walks up to us. "What's with all the whispering? What are you two
over here planning?" She licks her lips, trying to hide the fact that she's
nervous.
As much as she loves the idea of winter in Europe, she's also worried
her absence will leave room for some of her army to defect. She should be
worried, because of the shit she pulled. I know it was because she was
getting bored and did it to force my hand.
I toss back another mouthful of scotch, ignoring her question. Tabby
tries to keep the peace and says, "We're not planning anything. Logan and I
are discussing his new job, and what we're all doing during the break."
Work is the enemy of Bella's life of fun and destruction. She won't settle
for a job until her parents make her. Like the bitch she is, she's planning on
seducing and thieving her way into the life of a man that will keep her in
the manner to which she's accustomed.
There’s not one part of me that thinks she actually wanted the VP
position at McKay Media, but it would have been her ace in the hole for
when one of her future husband trades her in for a younger model, after her
beauty and pussy loses its luster.
"Well, have fun chasing down leads, and whatever else you'll be doing.
And be ready to come up with a new set of games to play in the spring."
 She heads towards the back of the house, raising her martini in the air.
I raise my glass in a silent toast.
"To the bitch queen." Tabby mutters beside me. "I hope she chokes on
her olive."

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 EPILOGUE

E
of art.
verywhere I go on campus, I feel like I'm being judged and watched.
In high school, I was teased because I was different thanks to my love

Robbie helped me a lot through my senior year, and eventually the

natural progression of our relationship was to date. I loved him, and it hurt
me when our relationship ended.
But now I know I was never in love with him. Not in the soul crushing,
abandoned way I'm feeling right now.
I gave Logan McKay my entire heart, and he sat there while Bella took
a sledgehammer to it. Beating it into a broken, unfixable mess. More than
that, he shaped and forged the weapon for her to use, with his lying lips,
traitorous touch and cruel kisses.
A broken heart pairs nicely with the evisceration of my hopes and
dreams. I didn't win the internship or scholarship I needed to transfer back
to Carryville.
I told the judging committee and school that I didn't consent to the
images Logan used, but somehow I still violated their morality clause.
How’s that for irony? The school where the student body is made up of
morally bankrupt students has a clause.
One good thing came out of the betrayal I experienced at Logan's hands.
His pushing me to step out of my comfort zone helped me create an
extraordinary painting, and someone paid a hefty stack of cash for it at the
auction. I'll be putting money aside for me and Summer and giving some to
mom to help give her some breathing room on the household bills.
 For the next six weeks, I'm banishing Logan, Bella, and everyone and
everything related to Van der Borne University, to the back corner of my
mind where they belong. They've already taken up far too much energy and
thought.
I settle into my seat and stare out the window. I insisted on riding the
bus home, because I'm not ready to see my mother or answer any of her
questions.
Since that day in the dining hall, all I've been able to see is ugliness and
hate. The beautiful people have turned my world view to shit and I don't
want this dreariness engulfing me any more. With any luck taking the
scenic route home will help me recapture the gift I used to have for finding
beauty around me.
The bus is practically empty. Here’s hoping the seat beside me stays
vacant, because I'd prefer not to have to make small talk.
I put my headphone in my ears and lean my head back against the seat,
preparing to close my eyes. A shadow looms over me and my plans for
stretching out comfortably go to hell when the person takes a seat beside
me. I'd recognize the scent and fingers on the lap beside me anywhere.
"Hello, Jordy."
"What are you doing here?"
I glance down at the envelope that was placed on my lap. "Let's play a
game..."

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The Van der Borne University Trilogy
continues with

BROKEN PRINCESS
Coming October 2021

Turn the page to read Chapter One of

Broken Princess

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SNEAK PEEK AT BROKEN PRINCESS

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 PROLOGUE

Jordanna

W inter break went by faster than I imagined and once again the first
day of a new semester looms before me. I started my vacation in a
dark place, but the weeks I spent on the beach have helped me heal. I'm
stronger now, ready to face them. To face him.
They played their twisted game, and I lost. But only because I didn't
know there was a game to be played. Or the rules of engagement. I do now.
I left school a broken, empty shell of myself. Last semester the only
thing I wanted was to get away from the school, now I'm going back, to
reclaim my dignity from the beautiful bastards that sought to strip me of
everything good in my life because it amused them.
I finger the key on the thin silver chain around my neck, that was
delivered in a sapphire jewelry box on Christmas Eve. I unfolded the note
card and read the words written in an unfamiliar scrawl.
The missive gave my mind something else to focus on other than the
pain. I buried the note in the bottom of my suitcase so mom or Summer
wouldn’t see it.
Know thy self, know thy enemy, it said. The BP’s are my enemies and
according to the writer, this shiny piece of cut metal, is the first clue to
uncovering their secrets.
I guess in a way I should thank Logan and his friends for what they did.
I’m stronger now, and I have a new purpose for showing up at school.
Round one definitely went to the Beautiful People, but round two clears the
board for new players.
 They destroyed the naïve charity case, they toyed with, along with her
virginal innocence. The stage is reset for a new game. I want them all to
pay, and there’s only one rule. Audentis Fortuna Iuvat.

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 CHAPTER ONE

Jordanna

“H oney, I wish you’d tell me what happened between you and

Robbie.”
My mother’s been hounding me all break trying to figure out why we
broke up. I didn’t realize she was such a fan of our relationship, seeing how
she used to tell me we spent way too much time together.
“Mom, there’s nothing to tell. The distance was too much, so he moved
on with somebody else.”
“Almost two years and you just call it quits when it gets a little hard?”
If only it were that simple, but I can’t tell her what really happened,
because finding Robbie with Simone, set me on a path where I was so out
of focus, I couldn’t see that I was being played.
“Is the breakup the only reason you’ve finally stopped trying to
convince me to let you transfer back to Carryville?”
More like the mess I got dragged into ruined my chances for going
back. A member from the scholarship committee was at the auction and saw
Logan’s sculpture.
My stomach roils at that memory of when a private moment between us
became public. No. She can never know any of it. Mom has enough to deal
with, with the step-doofus’ trial coming up. I don’t want to add another
embarrassing scandal to the mix.
I guess I have VDU’s history of secrecy to thank for why what
happened at the auction isn’t front page news.
 I focus on the things that will distract her from this line of questioning.
“VDU raised my scholarship amount. Besides, students who graduate from
there have job opportunities at some of the top companies in the world. It’s
like you said, I should focus on how lucky I am to have this chance.”
“Well, I must say, your time at the beach has done wonders for your
mood.” Her smile matches the joy in her voice. “You were so morose when
you came home at the start of the holiday break.”
Two heartbreaks in under six months will do that to you.
She finishes transferring the items from one purse into another. “Classes
don’t start for another couple of days. Are you sure you want to head back
to campus so soon?”
Avoiding the inevitable won’t make this any easier. “I’m sure. I wanna
take my time unpacking and getting settled back in before the first day of
classes.”
She flicks off the light in the kitchen and tells me she’ll meet me in the
car in ten minutes. Summer’s at a friend’s house, so it’s just the two of us on
the ride to to school.
Mom spends most of the drive talking about her latest client, and I’m
happy to let her prattle on about her vision for their master bedroom,
because it means she’s not asking me any more questions that I can’t
answer about my personal life.

I had no expectations for what I would see when I got back to campus, so
I’m not sure why I feel a sense of disappointment when we pass through the
golden gates of my academic cage, when I realize nothing looks or feels
different.
I grab my things out of the trunk, say goodbye to my mother at the curb,
and promise to call more often than I did last semester.
Making my way across the lobby of my dorm, I bypass the elevator,
heading directly for the back staircase, because I don’t want to be out in the
open any longer than necessary.
“New year. Same dorm. Different bullshit.” Kassidy laments when I
walk through the door. “But one bright spot is you and I are still roomies.”
 She pulls me in for a hug. “Jordanna, I can’t tell you how happy I am
you came back. I wasn’t sure you would even after the reset.”
I ignored Kassidy’s calls and texts the first week I was home, lumping
her in with all the other assholes from Kingsley Hollow. Then I realized she
didn’t deserve my anger. She may have convinced me to go to their parties,
and to give Logan a chance, but she was just as pissed as I was when she
found out he only pretended to care about me, so he could fuck me over,
and win his bet.
When my hurt, anger and embarrassment settled, we called and texted
each other every day. If someone forced me at gunpoint to find a silver
lining in all this, I’d have to say our friendship is the one good thing to
come out of the hell scape that punctuated last semester.
“What can I say? Three weeks with you and your family convinced me I
shouldn’t let the beautiful people win. They meant to run me out of school,
now they have to deal with failing at that.”
I know from the notifications I’m getting on Prospectus that most of the
students moved back on campus in the middle of January. So by their
standards, I’m late.
I don’t care that I wasn’t here for any of their pre-semester social
activities. I waited until the last possible minute to come back, because I
didn’t want to risk running into any of them, before I’m ready.
Kassidy pulls a lock of hair in front of her eyes, making a cutting
motion with her fingers. “You know they train these kids not to take failure
as an answer, right? They’ll probably try again.”
“Let them. I have nothing left to lose and before you say my pride, let
me remind you, that I gave up my virginity to a guy who bet he could take
it. A guy who instructed his friends to harass and bully me every chance
they got. Someone who had no problem making a photo sculpture of me in
the most intimate moments of my life. So nope. No pride left.”
Kassidy falls silent. What else can she say? We all know what happened
and ignoring it won’t help. She told me they pulled Logan’s sculpture from
display, because I didn’t sign a release to have my face shared with the
world.
Not because of the very obvious curve of breasts, hips and ass molded
in clay, or because the photos show snippets of my body from an angle that
I know means he was between my legs. They didn’t pull the sculpture
because it was indecent, but because the artist didn’t have a signed release.
The elite are so insulated around here, they could probably get away with
murder.
Kassidy leaves me to unpack, and then I settle onto my bed to read the
first chapters for my history class, until she suggests dinner. It doesn’t take
much to get her to agree to order takeout and watch a movie instead of
slogging down to the cafeteria.
I’m here, and I’m going to make the best of it, but I’m not ready to walk
through the place where my humiliation began, just yet.

Pre-order Broken Princess, now.

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Heartless. Cruel. Merciless.

Those are the words used to describe me, and they're all true. There's no
limit to how far I'll go to get what I want.

I was born to lead and playing second fiddle to anyone is not in my DNA.
That's why I'm taking a run at the king.

Every anti-hero has a backstory. This one is part of mine.

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 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hey guys and gals,

So, I’m supposed to talk about me, which I find is always hard for me to do, which is ironic, since
my job is to be a puzzle builder of words.

I’m a mother of three humans and one fur baby, I love travel, seafood, paranormal/ supernatural
books and tv shows, Hallmark movies, and after dark deliciousness that I would never tell my co-
workers about.

I’m here to push boundaries with my stories, and hopefully take you all on a fantastic journey along
the way.

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 CONNECT WITH DAKOTA

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