Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 159976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
She breathes hard, and I hide my smile, thankful I could take her mind off this bullshit for a little.
“I’ll have it by tomorrow,” I tell her.
Reaching around her front, I rub her through her panties. Her hand covers mine through her skirt as the scent of her hair makes chills spread up my arms.
I want her so bad, I can’t breathe.
I pull away from her, almost in pain, and step quietly through the crowd to the doors. I leave the gym, heading to my locker, because Liv has rehearsal and then work tonight, and I have etiquette class as well as some final prep for the ball.
The wait to see her will be worth it, though.
I round the corner, but I spot Callum, and I stop dead. He has a junior girl pressed into the lockers, and he holds her face, his tongue halfway down her throat.
I tense, my eyes scanning down her knobby-knees and turquoise flats that don’t even match our uniforms.
But her brow work is nice, I guess.
They both look over at me, a slow grin curling Callum’s mouth and a startled look in her eyes. He leans into her ear, whispering, and she looks at me again before ducking out and leaving us. She heads down the hall in the opposite direction, but she needn’t have bothered. I don’t need to talk to him.
I walk, passing him, but he grabs my arm. “You know why you don’t tell me to take a hike?” he asks as I pry myself out of his hold. “Because I’m an investment. You know I need you.”
I narrow my eyes, and he falls into me, my back hitting the lockers as he plants his hands on both sides of my head.
“You know that I know that I’m nothing, and you know the life I promise,” he continues.
I tip up my chin. Is that what he thinks? That I keep him around because I’m just too excited to assume the same role my mother has with my father? A trophy wife to take care of the kids and represent the charities?
“I’m not like my father, Clay.” He stares down at me, and I can smell the girl’s perfume on him. “A powerful man needs a powerful woman, not a weak one. And you will have power.” He pushes off the locker and stands up straight. “You’ll have your lovers in college, and I’ll have mine, and after it’s all done, we’ll come home and build a fucking city. We’ll be quite a team.”
I want to laugh. Like I need him to do any of that.
He takes my face, and I flinch, shoving his hand away. But he comes back in and pulls me into him just as Liv appears around the corner.
I turn to her, my heart stopping as she halts, and the look in her eyes hits me like a ton of bricks. I go weak in Callum’s arms for only a split second, gazing at her and seeing myself in my head, hurling my body into her arms and assuring her that I’m hers.
Callum stills, his eyes darting from me to her and back again. “Oh, I see.” He beams. “Well, my perception sucks. Damn.”
I shove out of his arms, growling. “What are you talking about? Just—”
“Clay, I’m into it,” he cuts me off. “I’m really into it.” He smiles, coming in again, and I see Liv walk past him, toward the front doors. “You can have as many women as you like as long as I get to watch.”
My stomach roils. Oh, God…
“And as long as you’re only mine after the ball,” he says. And then he takes my hand and places a small vial with white tablets inside in my palm. “These will help your legs fall apart.”
What?
He leaves, and I look back toward the direction Liv walked, but she’s already gone. Opening my fist, I see the pills, and have to swallow to keep the bile from rising.
Molly. I feel sick.
For Christ’s sake. At least he’s not planning to slip this shit into my drink without me knowing, I guess. He wants me comfortable and willing. He wants me to drug myself.
And I would have to. It would take a lot more than Valium to get me into bed with him.
To get me to want him.
To get me to forget about her.
I dump the pills in the trash can on the way out of school.
I SLIDE THE scissors up the fabric, cutting in short snips, but the day has taken its toll, and I jerk the tool, sliding the blade until there’s a huge slice right through the middle.
“Son of a bitch,” I bite out, rising off the floor and wiping the sweat off my forehead.
Dammit.
I grab the bolt of fabric off the table and start unraveling, measuring more.