Chapter Twenty-One 

 

 

By the time I trudge to my locker after fourth hour, I’m in desperate need of a break.  Thankfully, the bell just rang, signaling the beginning of lunch.  I can hide out in the furthest corner of the library and lick my wounds in private, all the while pretending for a few minutes that my life hasn’t become a total hell. 

Mostly, I want to get away from Kingsley. 

Every time I passed him in the hall, his gaze would capture mine and I’d find myself helpless to look away.  There’s something powerful about him.  Something I’m both inexplicably drawn to and repelled by.  It makes little sense. 

I thought for sure I’d get reprimanded for wearing the shirt under my blazer instead of the standard issue button-down.  It’s not part of the school-sanctioned uniform and yet, not one teacher said a word about it.  Not even Ms. Pettijohn.  They would look at my chest before glancing away.  This reaction has only solidified the realization that Kingsley Rothchild holds untold amounts of power at Hawthorne Prep. 

Even though I have zero appetite, with no plans to eat my lunch, I grab the paper bag before slamming my locker shut and spinning away. 

Where are you off to, Hawthorne?” 

The deep voice that cracks through the hallway has me stumbling to a halt.  I gulp and squeeze my eyes tightly shut before whispering, “The library.” 

Leave me alone. 

Just for a minute.

Sorry, that’s not part of the plan.  You’re coming with me to the cafeteria.” 

 I swing around to face him before lifting my chin.  “No.”  My shoulders stiffen as I get ready to do battle.  “I’m eating at the library.” 

He arches a brow.  “Wanna bet?” 

Frustrated by the situation and the power he holds over me, I stomp my foot.  “I want to eat in the library!” 

Unfortunately for you, I don’t give a shit.  You’ll eat lunch with me today and every day after this until I say differently.  Now, if you want to be done with our little arrangement, all you have to do is say the word.” 

Grrrr.

My fingers curl, the nails leaving little crescent-shaped marks in my palm while slicing through the brown paper bag in my other hand. 

When I remain silent, he snaps, “Make up your mind.  I’m starving.” 

I hate him. 

I stomp to his side, glowering the entire time, but he seems unfazed by my behavior. 

You ready?” 

Yes,” I grunt between clenched teeth. 

Great.” 

He saunters to his locker before opening it.  I begrudgingly follow, dragging my feet until I reach his side as he shrugs out of his navy blazer before hanging it on a silver hook near the top of his locker.  Lunch, I’ve discovered, is a less formal affair.  Most students forgo their jackets, preferring to roll up their sleeves during the thirty minutes of respite we’re given.  For obvious reasons, I won’t be partaking in that particular tradition today.  Or any other day I’m forced to wear this stupid shirt. 

He unfastens the buttons at his wrists before rolling the white material up his muscular forearms and revealing a smattering of dark hair against sun-kissed flesh.  An unexpected burst of need explodes inside me and I force my attention away in hopes of dampening it. 

Throw your blazer in here.” 

My gaze slices to him in surprise.  He must be joking.  There’s no way in hell I’m going to the cafeteria without it. 

I shake my head.  “No.” 

You must have misunderstood me, Hawthorne.  It wasn’t a request.” 

I search his face in desperation, already realizing he won’t budge from his stance.  Kingsley doesn’t care if I’m humiliated.  On second thought, he probably gets off on it.  My heart sinks as I swallow down my rising horror. 

Even though I know pleading won’t help the situation, I hear the choked whisper escape from my lips before I can stop it.  “Please don’t make me take it off.” 

In the time it takes to blink, his hands go to the sides of my head as he tips my face toward his.  He’s so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath drift over my lips.  It’s strangely intoxicating.  But then again, everything about him is. 

The only thing I like more than hearing you beg prettily is when you’re on your knees, staring up at me like I’m your fucking king.  Don’t worry, I plan on making you do it often, but removing your blazer for lunch is nonnegotiable.”  His hands disappear as he quickly divests me of the uniform jacket before shoving it in his locker and slamming the door shut so there’s no chance for me to snatch it back. 

Can I at least wear my bra?” 

Nope.” 

I hate you!”  Rage bubbles up inside me. 

A grin slides across his lips.  “And yet, that won’t stop you from begging for my cock.”  He takes off down the hall, not bothering to wait, assuming correctly that I’ll follow of my own free will. 

Turn around and leave. 

Austin wouldn’t want you to do this. 

As if he can sense the inner turmoil swirling through my head, he raises his voice.  “Don’t make me drag you to the cafeteria, Summer.” 

Is this humiliation worth it? 

Ultimately, yes.  If I don’t do this, my brother will end up moving to Chicago.  Kingsley holds even more power than I suspected.  This morning, I got my first real taste of it.  If he keeps his end of the agreement, Austin will be allowed to stay on the football team and in Hawthorne for the rest of senior year. 

Is there anything I wouldn’t do to achieve that outcome? 

No. 

I fold my arms tightly across my chest and reluctantly trail after him.  It feels like I’m marching to my death.  With every step that brings me closer, my anxiety continues to heighten.  By the time we reach the cafeteria, there aren’t any other students milling around outside the enormous room.  Kingsley stops, smirking when he notices what I’m doing.  “Arms down, baby girl.” 

My tongue darts out to smudge my lips.  It feels as if there are cotton balls stuffed in my mouth.  How can he be this cruel?  “King—” 

He shakes his head before eating up the distance between us until we stand toe to toe.  His forehead touches mine before he grabs my wrists and physically lowers them to my sides.  “Nonnegotiable, remember?” 

I want to scream. 

Our gazes clash as he reaches out, locking his forefingers and thumbs around the tips of my breasts.  He teases my nipples until they stiffen into hard little points that poke insistently against the white fabric. 

Stop,” I groan, simultaneously loving and hating how he’s torturing me. 

He gives each breast a painful tweak before releasing them.  “Now everyone will get an eyeful of those pretty little titties.” 

Asshole! 

How can my body be so traitorous? 

He steps away, looking completely unaffected.  “Are you ready?” 

No.  With a glare, I remain stoically silent. 

Fuck him. 

I’ll take that as a yes.”  Not giving me a chance to escape, he snakes his arm around my waist and steers me into the cafeteria.  People turn and stare, but no one utters a sound.  My face heats until it feels like I might self-combust. 

Actually, that would be more preferable than enduring this hell. 

He maneuvers us to the table he’s been sitting at since the first day of school.  Over the last week and a half, a social hierarchy has emerged in the lunchroom.  This table, along with Kingsley and his friends, seems to be the epicenter.  Everything fans out from here with the outer rings hugging the perimeter.  One seat remains open. 

As we approach the table, his friends fall silent.  They stare at me before shifting their curious gazes to Kingsley.  After a few moments, the swell of conversation picks up again as if I’m not standing here in a shirt that claims me as property.  Kingsley looks down at the guy I recognize as the ringleader from yesterday’s locker fiasco. 

Jasper the asshole. 

Move over,” The dark-haired boy next to me orders. 

Jasper turns glaring eyes on me before begrudgingly sliding over another seat.  When Kingsley settles on the bench, I do the same before setting down my paper bag. 

As soon as my butt hits the smooth wood, he asks the table at large, “Is it cheeseburgers today?” 

The guy across from him wraps his hands around a massive burger loaded with the works before raising it to his mouth and taking a bite.  “Yup and it’s fucking delicious,” he says around a mouthful of masticated meat. 

Hmmm.”  Kingsley stares across the cafeteria as he considers his meal options.  “All right, that sounds good.  I’ll also have fries, a side salad with ranch, an orange, and a lemon-lime Gatorade.” 

I glance around, wondering if there’s an invisible waitstaff I’m unaware of.  All the chatter and good-natured ribbing dies away as the guys stare at me expectantly. 

What? 

No way. 

My wide gaze shifts to Kingsley.  All it takes is one look at the way his lips are twisted into an arrogant smile along with the malicious glint filling his eyes to realize that it’s exactly what he’s expecting. 

Bastard!

You have to be joking,” I growl. 

Do you need me to repeat the order?” 

I gnash my teeth together before shooting to my feet.  There’s no point in arguing with him.  Kingsley hasn’t relented one damn bit this morning, and he certainly isn’t going to do it if I challenge him in front of his douchebag friends.  For the moment, I’m stuck doing his bidding. 

Without a word, I storm toward the lunch line and take my place at the end of it.  Even though people haven’t been gawking, I fold my arms self-consciously across my chest.  Kingsley can kiss my ass. 

That being said, I cautiously watch from the corner of my eye to see if he notices that I’m defying his decree.  When he rises from his seat, I promptly drop my arms to my sides.  Only then does he resettle on the bench. 

Grrrr! 

I have never hated anyone more in my life than I do Kingsley Rothchild. 

You didn’t hate him last night. 

I shake my head, needing to dislodge the traitorous little voice that keeps popping up at the most inopportune times. 

The four older women working behind the counter don’t blink as I rattle off the request and tell them to add it to Kingsley’s account.  I should order something for the entire cafeteria while I’m at it.  Doubtful he’d care, or that it would make a dent in his checkbook. 

As I walk back with the tray of food, I check the surrounding area for teachers.  Or any adult who looks to be in charge, but no one is policing the cafeteria.  Apparently, the students of Hawthorne are supposed to prove with this little bit of autonomy that they are mature enough to handle themselves like the young adults they’ve supposedly grown into. 

Ha!  What a joke. 

M’lord,” I say with an exaggerated flourish before dropping the tray with a loud thud in front of Kingsley.  The Gatorade bottle wobbles as the cafeteria china rattles.  “Your lunch.” 

Kingsley’s eyes narrow as a few of the guys sitting at the table smirk before hastily glancing away. 

I can’t lie, this petty show of defiance feels good. 

As I’m about to sit down, he says, “Where are the napkins?” 

I glare.  When he raises his brows, I grit my teeth and straighten to my full height.  Sixty seconds later, I slap the napkins on the tray in front of him. 

Careful,” he warns. 

I press my lips together and fall onto the bench beside him. 

No ketchup?  How can I eat a burger without ketchup?” 

You didn’t ask for any,” I shoot back with exasperation. 

I hold his gaze in challenge before dropping my eyes.  We both know this isn’t a battle I’ll win.  For the third time, I rise from my seat and maneuver my way through the cafeteria to grab packets of ketchup.  As I take a step away from the small counter, I scoop up mustard, mayo, salt, and pepper.  Anything he could possibly want.   

Kingsley studies me as I return to the table with two fistfuls of condiments before opening my hands and dropping them so the small containers rain down on his meal. 

You want to play games?”  An evil smirk curves his lips.  “That’s fine, we can do that.” 

The smug smile I’d been wearing fades. 

No, I don’t want to play games.  I just don’t want to be treated like a servant and humiliated in front of all your asshole friends. 

With his gaze pinned to mine, he says, “Hey, Morgan, you can have your seat back.” 

Jasper glances at Kingsley and then me.  With a sneer, he slides over so I no longer have a place to sit. 

I keep my expression neutral.  Does he really think I’m going to be upset because I can’t sit with him?  I want to laugh.  Now I can hide out in the library like I originally intended.  Honestly, I prefer it.  He’s delusional for thinking otherwise. 

When I shrug and spin on my heels to leave, he snaps, “Where do you think you’re going?” 

My step falters as I point to the exit.  Freedom, that’s where.  “The library,” I answer instead. 

A wicked gleam enters his eyes as he shakes his head and pats his lap.  “No, you’ll sit right here.” 

I stare at his muscular thigh before glancing at him in horror.  Without thinking, I shake my head, a denial perched on the tip of my tongue. 

Do you really want to push me, Summer?”  He breaks eye contact and looks around.  I do the same and realize that everyone’s gazes are fastened on me.  It’s as if they’re all waiting for a silent signal to attack.  Nausea grows in my belly as I acknowledge how precarious my situation has become. 

It takes everything I have inside to shuffle forward until I’m close enough for him to grab me.  Instead of forcing me to do his bidding, he taps his thigh again.  I grit my teeth and waver. 

Hurry up,” he growls, “I’m hungry.” 

Then eat! 

Instead of screaming that, I swallow down my anger before gingerly lowering myself to his lap.  My left breast brushes against his hard chest as I twist my body, trying to find a comfortable place to settle.  A groan rumbles up from deep in his chest and an answering response ignites between my legs. 

What the hell is wrong with me? 

This guy should disgust me, not turn me on! 

His hands wrap around my waist as if to anchor me in place.  My gaze stays pinned to his and I get sucked into the strange spell he effortlessly weaves around me. 

Looks like someone’s part of the itty-bitty titty committee,” one guy at the table jokes. 

Kingsley rips his attention away from me long enough to glare at the moron who made the comment.  “Shut the fuck up and don’t look at her!” 

The table falls silent as a thick shudder slides through me. 

Please don’t tell me it’s arousal. 

Please don’t... 

A dull ache throbs to life in my pussy.  Unconsciously I shift on his thighs, but there’s no relief to be found. 

Stop that,” he grumbles in my ear, “before I finger fuck you in front of everyone.” 

Even though his words are meant for me alone, heat rushes to my cheeks. 

Tell me again how much you hate me,” he urges, fingers digging into my waist. 

I hate you,” I oblige, but the vehemence is noticeably absent.  

I don’t think you do.”  His gaze stays fastened to mine.  “Now feed me lunch.” 

I grab a fry from his plate and hold it to his lips.  When he opens, I press the slim length of potato into his mouth.  A reluctant thrill shoots through me when he nibbles at my fingers.  It takes effort to bite back the husky moan that threatens to escape as I repeat the process.  I don’t want to admit how mesmerized I am by what we’re doing.  As I hold the burger to his mouth, he takes a bite.  One of his hands stays wrapped around my waist while the other drops to my thigh. 

It doesn’t take long before my attention is focused on the feel of his palm pressed against my skin until it’s all I’m cognizant of.  His fingers glide over my bare flesh with lazy strokes from the edge of my navy sock to the hem of my skirt that rides up my thigh.  With every pass, his caress stretches further up my leg.  I break eye contact and glance at the guys filling the table, but no one pays us any attention.  They’re too busy discussing the upcoming scrimmage next weekend.  

So which is it?”  Humor simmers in Kingsley’s voice.  “Worried I’ll make good on my threat or wishing that I would?” 

Good question. 

I feed him a slice of orange from the tray.  “Neither.  I’m wondering how long I have to keep this up.”  It’s not a lie.  I’m just not sure if I’m counting down the minutes until I can escape his insufferable presence or if I’m enjoying the feel of his fingers. 

He studies my face as if he’s able to pick through my most intimate thoughts by simply reading my expression.  “I think you’re lying.”  There’s a pause as his hand slides toward the apex of my thighs.  “Should I discover the answer for myself?” 

Please don’t.”  I pop another slice of fruit into his mouth.  My fingers tingle as he licks at them. 

Then tell me the truth,” he demands.  “Are you wet?” 

I bite my lip and glance away. 

Isn’t my silence answer enough? 

Look at me, Summer.”  The gruffness of his tone strums something deep inside me that I wasn’t aware existed.  I’m frightened by the discovery and don’t know how to make it go away. 

My gaze snaps to his.  “Yes.”  I can’t take the chance he’ll find out firsthand.  I wouldn’t put it past him to do it either.  The normal rules of society don’t apply to Kingsley Rothchild.  It’s intoxicating and disturbing all at the same time. 

Fire ignites in his eyes. 

When the bell rings, I huff out a relieved breath and hop off his lap without waiting for permission.  As I do, my gaze collides with angry blue eyes. 

Sloane. 

We stare at each other before she whispers something to the brunette who I recognize as her trusty sidekick.  Both smirk as their attention returns to me.  That girl is going to be trouble.  And by that I mean, more of a hassle than she’s already been. 

As far as Sloane is concerned, Kingsley has painted a big red bullseye on my back with his interest.  And that’s exactly what I don’t need.