Chapter Nineteen 

 

 

I stare at the physics book splayed open on my bed as the sentence swims before my eyes.  I’ve read over the same paragraph at least five times and I still couldn’t tell you what it was about.  There’s a quiz tomorrow. 

A quiz I’m going to fail. 

Frustrated with myself and the circumstances, I slam the book shut and hop off the bed.  A burst of nervous energy explodes in me and I pace in front of the window.  All I can think about is Austin.  He wants me to stand back and let him handle his own problems, but how can I do that when there is so much at risk? 

I don’t want him to move to Chicago and leave me.  I’m barely hanging on as it is.  Without him... 

A shudder slides through me. 

Our old school doesn’t start until the Tuesday after Labor Day.  Max’s father jumped at the chance to have Austin come back and play for his old team.  My parents spent at least half an hour on the phone with him, hashing out logistics.  It’s almost frightening how Austin mentioned the idea a couple of hours ago and it’s already gained so much traction.  The only thing stopping my brother from packing his bags and leaving tomorrow is the decision from the board about his future at Hawthorne.  If they allow him to continue with the team, then he’ll stay here for his senior year.  If he’s forced to quit, then Austin will probably move to Chicago this weekend, so he has time to register, get settled, and start practicing with his old team.  The thought of that happening makes me sick to my stomach. 

Tension and fear swirl through me as I swing toward the window and push the heavy drapery aside before peering into the darkness.  The stars are out in full force tonight.  

I’ve spent the last five hours trying to come up with a solution to the problem we find ourselves in, but I keep drawing blanks.  The only viable option is that Austin should move back to Chicago.  Some of my best thinking is done while lying outside and staring up at the stars.  If anything can get my neurons firing, it’s that. 

Otherwise I’ll lose my brother. 

I grab the afghan from the chair in the corner and slip out the door onto the small patio off my room.  There are definitely advantages to having a private entrance to the house and sneaking out for a breath of fresh air is one of them. 

With bare feet, I skirt around the edge of the pool, heading to the far corner of the yard where I’ve found the perfect spot for stargazing.  The little pinpricks of light are so much brighter than the ones in Chicago that it’s almost like I’m looking at an entirely different sky.  This weekend, I’m going to unpack my telescope and set it up on the balcony. 

A whapping noise breaks the silence of the night and my footsteps falter as I stop and listen, trying to figure out what the sound is and where it’s coming from. 

Ten seconds later, it repeats. 

I tilt my head and prick my ears, realizing after a minute that the noise is rhythmic. 

Whatever it is, it’s coming from Kingsley’s yard.  I can’t see what’s going on because of the thick foliage that separates our properties.  It’s not a conscious decision to creep closer until I’m all but buried in a clump of bushes and parting the leafy branches so I have an unobstructed view. 

My breath hitches when I find a bare-chested Kingsley with a lacrosse stick in hand.  He’s throwing a small white ball at some kind of standing trampoline.  The ball hits the woven canvas and ricochets back to him.  He catches it easily with the mesh netting of his stick before flicking the metal pole over his shoulder and releasing it from the pocket. 

The repetitive motion is almost hypnotic. 

Or maybe it’s Kingsley who is mesmerizing. 

A soft sigh escapes as his muscles ripple.  With moonlight pouring over him, he looks like an ancient Greek god.  My core clenches in agreement. 

I wince at that damning thought. 

No.

No. 

No.

He’s terrible. 

Mean. 

Cruel.

He isn’t the sweet boy who took me out on his boat.  I don’t understand what happened to that guy.  Maybe he was never real, merely an illusion I wanted to believe in.  That thought fills me with so much heartache that it’s almost enough to swallow me whole.  We only spent one day together, but it was enough for me to start falling for him. 

“How long are you going to stand there and watch me?” he calls out, breaking into the whirl of my thoughts. 

I straighten and knock my head against a thick branch.  “Ow.” 

Even though his lips tilt at the corners, his attention never deviates from what he’s doing.  Nor does he break the rhythm of catching and releasing.  There’s no other choice but to push through the foliage into his yard and show myself. 

“Do you spy on me often?” he asks, not sounding interested in the answer.  

“No.”  My fingers bite into the blanket as I clutch it to my chest for protection.  How that will keep me safe, I don’t know.  But it makes me feel marginally better.  “I was going to look at the stars.”  I gulp and force myself to add, “It’s a cloudless night and they’re bright.” 

He catches the ball with the mesh pocket one more time before tossing the stick to the ground and swinging toward me.  The heavy weight of his gaze pins me in place.  Movement becomes impossible.  I don’t understand the strange power he has over me.  I wish there were a way to shake it off and feel nothing.  But I have yet to figure out how to flip that switch. 

When he continues to watch me from behind hooded eyes, I clear my throat and blurt, “I like to stargaze at the back of the yard.” 

“I know.” 

The fine hair on my arms rise at that acknowledgment. 

“I’ve watched you,” he adds without the least bit of shame. 

And he accused me of spying?  How many times has he done that, and I’ve been unaware?  The thought should creep me out but doesn’t.  And that is so many kinds of wrong. 

When my tongue darts out to moisten my lips, his gaze drops to the movement before flicking back to mine.  Only this time, heat swirls in his eyes. 

“I heard about what happened to your brother.”  There’s a pause.  “Sucks for him.” 

Anger bolts through me and my shoulders jerk as I scowl.  “Football is everything to him.” 

“Then he shouldn’t have jeopardized it.” 

“We both know he didn’t start that fight,” I grit out, irritated with the comment.  “You saw what happened.” 

He shrugs before closing the gaping distance between us.  “Here’s what you need to understand, Hawthorne.  There are people with power and then there are those who don’t have any.”  His eyes glitter in the moonlight.  “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, your family is one of the have nots.” 

Why does he have to be such a jerk?  “You love that, don’t you?” 

One side of his mouth crooks.  “Actually, I do.  It’s a nice change of pace.  The Hawthornes deserve every bit of their self-induced misery.” 

As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right about us not having any power in this town or at the school. 

But you know who does have power? 

Kingsley Rothchild.  He proved it when he stopped Jasper from doling out retribution in the hallway this morning.  All it took was one sharp word from him and the other boy was backing down.  Although that doesn’t mean Kingsley or his family have pull over the board at Hawthorne Prep.  And even if they did, why would he help me when he’s delighted by our fall from grace? 

“Seems like there’s something on your mind,” Kingsley drawls, interrupting my thoughts.  “Why don’t you do us both a favor and spit it out.” 

Before I can think better of it, the words are shooting out of my mouth.  “I need your help.” 

“Oh?”  One brow slides lazily upward.  “Interesting that you would think I’d lift a finger to help you.” 

Honestly, I don’t.  But what other choice is there?  Kingsley is a last-ditch effort on my part. 

“Austin will move back to Chicago if football gets taken away from him.”  I shake my head and clutch the blanket closer.  “I don’t want that to happen.” 

He tilts his head, all the while studying me with an intensity that is unnerving.  “Why should I care about that?” 

“Please,” I whisper.  As much as it pains me to beg, I’ll do whatever I have to for my brother. 

“I’m flattered that you think I hold so much power.”  A grin flashes across his face.  He is so loving this.  “What makes you think I’d offer my assistance even if I could?” 

That’s an excellent question.  One I don’t have an answer for. 

My shoulders collapse and I quickly glance away, staring into the swirling darkness of the yard as hopelessness fills me.  “I don’t.” 

I sense his movement before I catch it from the corner of my eye.  Every step he eats up between us makes my heart pump faster and the adrenaline rush through my veins. 

“That’s it?  You’re going to give up just like that?”  He makes a clicking sound with his tongue.  “Not very persistent, are you?” 

“What?”  My widened gaze jerks to him as my mouth turns cottony. 

He picks up a lock of my hair from my shoulder and twirls it absently around his finger.  His movements turn lazy, but there’s nothing idle about the calculating look in his eyes.  Thick tension builds between us as he continues to stare.  It’s only after the air turns explosive does his gaze flick to mine.  “You’re going to throw in the towel without even trying to persuade me to change my mind?”  

A shudder of unease slides through me.  “I don’t understand.” 

Arousal ignites in his eyes as he tugs gently on the heavy strands.  “I think you do.” 

A strange concoction of caution infused confusion churn inside me.  “Are you saying that you’ll help me?” 

He shrugs, continuing to wrap the inky-colored lock of hair around his finger.  “I haven’t decided if it’s worth my trouble.” 

What does he want?  For me to beg? 

If that’s all it will take, I’ll do it gladly.  I gulp and force out the word.  “Please?”  

His eyelids lower.  “That’s an awfully pretty word falling from your lips.” 

Nerves skitter along my bare flesh.  Attraction tugs deep inside my core.  As wrong as it is, I can’t stop it from spreading throughout my body like a virus. 

“If I make this all go away, what do I get?” 

“I don’t know,” I murmur.  It takes everything I have inside to keep the nerves from overtaking my voice.  “What do you want?”  Whatever price he’ll extract will be steep.  Of that, I can be certain. 

“Everything.”  He steps closer, his bigger, muscular body dwarfing mine.  I crane my neck to hold his steely gaze.  “Are you willing to give me that?”  There’s a pause.  “If so, you have yourself a deal.” 

His hands settle on my shoulders as if grounding me to the earth.  His lips hover dangerously over mine.  “It’s a one-time offer.  Once it expires, it’s gone for good and you’re on your own.” 

When he nips my lower lip with sharp teeth, a groan escapes from me and I drop the blanket from my fingers.  An explosion of pleasure-filled-pain jolts through my system, shaking me to the core. 

His lips curve into a wicked smile.  “Sexy little moans aren’t good enough.  I want to hear you agree to the terms.” 

What other choice is there? 

None that I can think of. 

Austin needs to stay in Hawthorne.  I can’t face these people on my own.  Not for the rest of the academic year.  “Yes.” 

“Good girl.”  His fingers bite into my shoulders as he forces me to the ground.  When I resist, a hard glint enters his eyes.  “On your knees.” 

Oh God. 

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. 

When his hands press me lower, my knees buckle, and I drop to the thick grass.  As I stare straight ahead, I realize that I’m perfectly aligned with the bulge in his shorts.  I swallow thickly before raising my chin and meeting his gaze.  The hot look in his eyes has my belly hollowing out. 

He lifts one hand from my shoulder and trails his knuckles along my jaw.  The other one continues to hold me in place.  “How many guys have you blown?” 

My tongue darts out to moisten my lips as his gaze fastens onto the movement.  My breath stutters as his cock jerks to life inches from my face. 

He chuckles darkly at my reaction and repeats the question in a voice that has turned shades deeper.  “How many?” 

“None.” 

“Hmmm.”  His lips flatten.  “I’m not sure how I feel about that.” 

What does that mean? 

Is the deal off? 

“I guess I’ll just have to teach you.”  With that, he places his index finger against my lips.  “Open.” 

I don’t think about what he’s asking.  My mouth opens enough for his finger to slip inside.  My heart pounds erratically beneath my ribcage as his digit rests against the velvety softness of my tongue.  It’s such a strange feeling. 

One hand lifts from my shoulder before he tunnels his fingers through my thick strands, cupping my scalp before carefully angling my chin upward.  His grip tightens as he rocks my head back and forth so that my tongue can slide against the length until we fall into a natural rhythm.  As I take over, his eyelids lower, becoming half-mast. 

Why does this feel so erotic? 

That shouldn’t be the case when he’s forcing me to perform this act.  Although, if you want to get technical, Kingsley hasn’t forced me to do anything.  He gave me a way to save my brother, and I took it.  Even now, I could change my mind and leave.  Confusion whirls inside me and I avert my gaze.  The intimacy of the moment becomes almost too much to bear.  I shouldn’t feel anything for him except loathing.    

“Eyes on me,” he grunts. 

I force my gaze to his.  It only takes a moment before I’m drowning in his dark depths.  Even though he keeps his fingers threaded through my hair, I’ve taken over completely.  No longer does he guide my movements.  My tongue curls around the blunt digit, sucking it into my mouth before releasing it. 

Is this what it would feel like to suck his cock? 

It’s not an unpleasant thought.  Quite the opposite.  Heat floods my panties as the image materializes in my mind.  Only it would be much thicker.  Longer.  Without realizing it, my tempo picks up speed, and I suck with renewed energy. 

A dark chuckle falls from his lips.  “Greedy for the real deal?” 

I whimper, my gaze locked on his.  All I’m doing is drawing his finger into my mouth, but there’s something sensual about the act.  When he attempts to withdraw, my cheeks hollow, trying to keep him in place.  A wicked grin spreads across his face as if he’s pleased by my reaction. 

The hand threaded through my hair tightens and I wince.  My mouth opens and his finger slides free.  His grip stays firm.  My breath comes out in short pants as he carefully traces my parted lips with his wet digit. 

“I can’t wait to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours.”  His gaze glitters in the moonlight.  “I’m going to destroy you.” 

I think he might be right. 

He will destroy me. 

But not in the way he intends. 

Those thickly muttered words have arousal exploding in my core. 

Without warning, he sinks the same finger deep into my mouth before pushing it down my throat.  My gaze widens but stays locked on his. 

“Relax your muscles and breathe through your nose.” 

I do as he instructs and focus on drawing air in through my nostrils before forcing it out again.  

“Good girl.” 

Kingsley has given me no reason to trust him and yet, for some inexplicable reason, I do.  It makes no sense and part of me wonders if I can trust myself to make smart decisions because of it.  

“Swallow.” 

The muscles in my throat contract around the blunt digit. 

“Fuck,” he hisses.  “Again.” 

I slow my movement, swallowing with more exaggeration.  It’s a strange sensation to feel my muscles constrict around him. 

He groans and slips his finger free from my mouth before his hand settles on the tented material of his shorts.  I watch in fascination as he carefully strokes the covered length.  My thighs clench with need as a whimper escapes from my mouth.  Anticipation and curiosity rush through my veins.  I don’t realize I’m straining forward until his grip on my scalp tightens to hold me in place. 

“Your eagerness is a real turn-on,” he murmurs. 

I’m embarrassed to admit that eagerness doesn’t come close to what’s crashing around inside me.  With his gaze locked on mine, he drags the waistband of his black shorts down until his thick erection can spring free.  The muscles in my throat convulse at the thought of taking his hard length into my mouth.  He’s so big.  A shudder of unease slides through me before pooling in my core.  I flick my concerned gaze to him. 

The edges of his lips quirk as if he senses my nervousness and is feeding off of it.  “The only thing you need to remember from now on is that I’m your king.” 

He wraps his hand around his girth and gives it a few slow pumps before bringing the mushroom-shaped head to my lips.  His fingers tighten in my hair as he brings the tip of his cock to my mouth before tracing over it.  Hot licks of need engulf me, threatening to singe me alive.  How can something so benign be so damn erotic? 

Kingsley wasn’t mistaken when he accused me of being eager.  The need to taste him thrums through me like that of a steady heartbeat.  I want to draw him into my mouth and discover his taste and texture for myself. 

Once he circles my lips, painting me with slick moisture, he places the tip against them.  I’m almost desperate to open wider and flick my tongue over the head.  Instead, I remain still, eyes trained on him, waiting for his direction. 

“Good girl.”  His hand tightens in my hair, tipping my head back and exposing the delicate column of my throat.  “Are you ready to kiss the crown?” 

I pucker my lips and brush them against the head of his cock.  The skin is soft, and I’m tempted to nuzzle the tip.  A fresh wave of arousal crashes over me, threatening to drag me under.  My pussy throbs with painful awareness.  All it would take is one stroke of my lower lips and I would come all over myself. 

“Again.” 

I repeat the caress. 

His cock stays poised at my mouth before he flexes his hips.  The tip slides across my lips as they stretch around his girth, taking the head inside. 

“Now suck.” 

A flood of warmth rains down on me.  If my panties hadn’t already been soaked, they would be now.  My tongue strokes the flat underside of his head as I greedily suck his cock like I did with his finger only minutes ago. 

He groans and his head lolls back, exposing thickly corded muscles.  Who knew a throat could be so sexy?  I keep my eyes lifted, wanting to see every nuance of pleasure as it flickers across his face. 

“Your mouth feels so damn good,” he mutters. 

As I fall into a rhythm, my sucking grows forceful as I try pulling more of his length into my mouth.  When his grip tightens in my hair, I gasp, and his cock slips free.  In one swift movement, he drags the athletic shorts over his erection.  Breath coming fast, I stare up at him in question.  His fingers loosen, relinquishing their hold on my hair before sifting through the strands. 

With a smirk, he steps back.  “See you at school tomorrow, Hawthorne.” 

He turns away from me, sauntering to his lacrosse stick and picking it up from the grass before returning to the house.  It’s only when the backdoor slams shut that I snap out of the daze that had fallen over me. 

A strange mixture of relief and disappointment crash through me.  More disturbing than that, I’m not sure which one takes precedence.