Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
It looks delicious.
“Did you know they don’t actually sell the sugar puffs anymore in the student union?” Beckett says from his row. “I asked the girl why, and she said people were complaining it was too messy to eat.”
I ignore him. Then I stare at the doughnut again, and my traitorous stomach growls. There’s no way Beckett could have heard it, but his grin widens.
“Come on, eat it,” he taunts. “You know you want to.”
An internal battle commences, one side urging me not to waste a perfectly good doughnut, the other insisting I can’t give Beckett Dunne the satisfaction.
Hunger wins.
I snatch the doughnut and shove the entire thing in my mouth. I don’t even care that I look like a toddler with icing sugar all over my face.
Beckett lets out an amazed laugh. “Wow. I thought you would take a bite, not inhale it like a horse devouring a whole apple.”
“Charlotte?”
My head swings toward the aisle, where Agatha has just stopped in her tracks. My president stares at me in disbelief.
“This isn’t Delta Pi behavior. A lady eats her food, Charlotte. She doesn’t let her food eat her.”
I hear a snicker from Beckett’s chair.
Agatha turns to him and glares.
“Sorry,” I mumble through a mouthful of doughnut. “I have bad luck with pastries. Let me see if I have a napkin.”
“Please do.”
With an annoyed huff, Agatha continues down to the front row while I dig inside my bag and find an unused tissue. As she settles in her seat, she turns around to make sure I’m wiping my mouth.
I’m shoving the tissue back in my bag when Beckett’s shadow looms over me. “Did we teleport to a girls’ finishing school or something?” he says in amusement.
I give him a quizzical look.
“A lady eats her food, Charlotte. Why do you let her lecture you like that?” He nods toward Agatha’s turned back.
“I’m a Delta Pi,” I answer in a tight voice. “And she likes to remind us what Delta Pis are not supposed to do.”
“Like fantasize about getting railed by two guys?”
I suck in a breath. “Stop.”
“Why?” His eyes twinkle. “You seemed to enjoy it when we were chatting on the app.”
“The app isn’t real life.”
Beckett dons a thoughtful look. “So there’s this thing people do… I really don’t like it.”
“What are you babbling about?”
He keeps going as if I hadn’t spoken. “They think the internet isn’t real. That just because you’re hidden behind a screen and typing shit you’d never say to people’s faces, that means it’s not real. Thing is, the screen isn’t writing those words. You’re writing them.” He leans over my desk, his face so close to mine that a shiver runs up my spine. “You want every single thing you described in those chats, Charlotte. You want to swallow up my dick while Will fills your pussy.”
His soft-spoken, teasing words evoke an acute physical reaction. A bolt of lightning directly between my legs. A surge of heat throughout my entire body. It’s the kind of arousal that robs you of breath.
Beckett straightens with a chuckle. “It’s okay to want it.”
“I don’t.” I swallow the desperation rising in my throat. “Like I told Will, it was just a fun online thing. I was never planning on meeting you in real life.”
“Of course. A Delta Pi must never lower herself in that way,” he mocks. “A Delta Pi must maintain her air of purity at all times.” He suddenly chuckles. “Shit. I just realized something.”
“What?” I mutter.
“The initials of your sorority are DP.”
I make a choked sound. “Oh my God, Beckett. Stop.”
His lips curve into a smile. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.”
“So?”
“I like it.”
The soft thud of footsteps interrupts us before an unwelcome voice joins the mix.
“Char? Is everything okay here?”
Mitch.
My ex looks tiny next to Beckett, which is absurd because five ten is by no means small. Mitch is taller than average. But at well over six feet, with his broad shoulders and muscled chest, Beckett seems huge in comparison.
“Everything’s fine,” I mutter.
“You sure?” Mitch’s suspicious gaze shifts between us. “Is this dumb jock bothering you?”
“Hey,” I say in rebuke, because that was just fucking rude.
Beckett is unruffled by the insult, laughing at my ex. “Charlotte was just explaining the concept of climate-related migration to me. On account of me being dumb and all. Thanks for clarifying, Charlotte.”
With a grin, he saunters back to his row, leaving me alone with Mitch.
“What the hell was that?” I hiss. “You were so rude.”
“The asshole was all up in your personal space,” an unrepentant Mitch retorts. “You can’t let guys slobber over you like that.”
“Why not?” I give him a smug, condescending look. “Maybe I enjoy it.”
His eyes flash. I think I hear him mutter “slut” under his breath, but I ignore the sting it elicits and watch as he turns on the heel of his sneaker and stomps toward his own row.