“YOU REALLY DON’T remember?” Sarah asks me while walking down the hallway of Barrington Monday morning.
“Nope,” I answer.
She frowns, tilting her head to the side in thought. After a long pause, she speaks. “Well, that sucks.”
“Right? What about you?”
She shakes her head. “We must have had a great time.”
I laugh as she smiles. I allowed a stranger to blindfold and cuff my wrists behind my back, and I’m not even sure we had sex. I do, however, remember him throwing me onto the bed and going down on me. I fucking screamed, or at least I did in my head as I came all over his face. Then I think I blacked out.
I woke up the next morning in my bed, Sarah in hers, and my car in the parking lot of our apartment complex. Our cell phones, IDs, and my car keys were sitting on the kitchen counter with no explanation of how they got there. However, my underwear was missing, but otherwise, I was dressed in the clothes I went wearing.
We did nothing but lay on the couch, wrapped in blankets, eating greasy cheeseburgers trying to get rid of our hangovers. She was sick most of the day, and I felt like I was dying. Thankfully, we feel much better today.
“Have you heard from Matt?” she asks.
“Another no,” I growl. I do, however, remember that motherfucker and his girlfriend. He’s the main reason I even let the stranger touch me. I’m more pissed at Matt than I am at the fact I may have lost my virginity and can’t remember it. When I woke up in my bed Saturday morning, I was pretty sore between my legs with bite marks on my inner thigh.
“He hasn’t even called to try to explain himself? Ask for forgiveness?” I shake my head.
“What a piece of shit,” she snaps and softens her voice. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” You know what they say—better to find out now rather than five years down the road and three kids later.
My cell phone rings in my back pocket, and I pull it out to see it’s my mother. “I’ll meet you in class.” Walking off, I answer, “Hello?”
“Good morning, dear. How are things going?”
I wonder if she’s calling because Matt’s mother has informed her of our breakup. They are best friends. “Fine,” I answer, testing the waters.
“Nothing new to tell me?” she asks in that voice that tells me she already knows something.
“No,” I lie.
She sighs heavily. “Well, I just spoke to Kimberly, and she said that she heard you and Matt got into a fight this past weekend.”
“A fight?” I snort; the pussy lied to his mother. “He was cheating on me, Mom. We broke up.” Why should I have to hide who he really is? Plus, telling her now is better than doing it in person. She can chase me from room to room, and our house is big. Now I can tell her how I feel, then hang up and go about my day.
“You know that no relationship is perfect, right?” she responds.
My mouth falls open. I know she’s not implying what I think she is. “You can’t be serious?”
“Of course, I am. I think your father and I have given you a false representation of what marriage is like.”
“So, you think I should put up with someone being unfaithful?” I snap. “I think that sacrifices are made in a marriage—”
“Well, thankfully, I haven’t married him,” I interrupt her, my blood boiling. I don’t know why I’m mad because I knew she’d be this way. That’s why I was afraid to tell her what happened.
“The wedding is still on, Blakely,” she states.
She wants it to be next summer after I graduate. She and Kimberly have been planning it for years. “Mom …”
“You have plenty of time to work through things. This is an opportunity for you.”
I blink. An opportunity? “For what?” I wonder. “You’ll see.” She hangs up.
I pull the phone from my ear and just stare at it. What the hell is she referring to? An opportunity for what? To see how far he’ll go to make it up to me? The fucker hasn’t even reached out to me. Silence speaks louder
than any gift a man can give you. If he wanted to, he would and all that shit. If a woman would just pay attention, a man will tell her everything she needs to know without him even saying a damn word.
My mother once went two weeks without even looking my father’s way. He bought her a vacation home—an oceanfront estate in South Hampton— after that. She forgave him quicker than a stack of cards falling over from a breeze. Now I understand it.
An opportunity to see what I can get out of him. Too bad there’s nothing that fucker could give me that would make me forgive his cheating ass.
I silence my phone before placing it back in my pocket and have that feeling creeping up my spine again. Like someone is watching me.
Looking up, I find a set of emerald eyes. Ryat is leaning up against the far wall. A girl with short, bleach blonde hair stands in front of him, and she’s speaking to him, but he’s looking at me. He doesn’t seem to care that I caught him staring.
Then like he never even saw me standing here, he looks down at the girl who continues their conversation. He nods a few times, and then his lips start moving, but I can’t hear what they’re talking about.
A guy bumps into my shoulder, shoving me aside without even a glance or apology. I whirl around, scanning the sea of faces in the hallway. My breath quickens as thoughts of that weekend at the House of Lords flood my mind. It could’ve been anyone. I didn’t think much of it then, but now that I’m sober, it’s all I can focus on. What if it was Matt? I asked him, and he denied it, but that doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth. He’s already lied to me before—what’s one more? I try to recall his voice, but it’s a blur. I do remember someone saying Matt was done with me, that he’d been watching. Maybe that was his way of saying he didn’t like that I caught on and left him. He wanted to hold onto that power.
Or maybe I’m overthinking, and it’s someone else entirely. It could’ve been anyone, even someone who doesn’t go to Barrington. It’s a college town nestled in the Pennsylvania mountains, but people come here to vacation. The mountains are dotted with million-dollar cabins, and we’re only an hour from a big city. People come out here all the time for a getaway. But why the cloaks and masks? That’s the part that doesn’t add up. Were the Lords dressed that way, or was it something else?
The reasonable answer has to be Matt. He knew I was there. He knew I was mad at him, and that was his way to get even. He fucks someone and then makes me think I fucked someone else. No hard feelings. It’s a trick he played on me.
“Hey?”
I turn around to see Matt standing in front of me as if I had summoned him. “Hey?” I laugh maniacally. I’m pretty sure I’m having a fucking mental breakdown, and the first thing he decides to say to me after I find him cheating is hey?
“We need to talk.” His eyes narrow on me with accusation.
Talk? What is there to say? I think about what my mother said to me, and I decide to use this chance as an opportunity. Just not the kind she meant. “I think we said enough at the party.” I cross my arms over my chest.
He runs a hand through his hair. “I wanted to talk to you …” He pauses and looks over my shoulder, squaring his. His eyes come back to mine. “Ashley got sick, and we had to leave before I could find you again.”
“Wait?” I hold up my hand. “So, we didn’t see each other again?” I’m not even surprised he left with her.
He frowns. “No.”
So, it wasn’t him I spread my legs for. For some reason, that makes me feel better. I’d rather it be a complete stranger, anyone but him.
“Why?” he asks.
“No reason.” I blow him off, going to step away, but he grabs my upper arm and yanks me to a stop.
“What the fuck did that mean, Blakely?” he growls, getting in my face.
I lick my lips and give him a sweet smile. Fuck you, Matt. “I just realized you weren’t the guy I fucked that night.” Okay, so I’m not a hundred percent sure I had sex, but I want him to think I did. He not only cheated, but he also lied to me because he told me he was going back to Texas for the weekend. He thought he’d be safe at the house of Lords, knowing I wouldn’t be there. Fuck, what if I hadn’t gone? How long would he have kept this from me? Would we still be pretending we’re a couple?
“What?” he shouts, tightening his hand on my upper arm. “You what?” “You’re hurting me.” I try to pull away, but he yanks me closer to him.
Lowering his face to mine, he snaps, “You better be joking, Blakely. I swear to God …”
“Problem?”
I look over to see Ryat has joined the conversation, now standing next to us.
Matt growls at him. “Go away.”
“I wasn’t speaking to you.” His green eyes meet mine, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is this man bothering you?” The tone of his voice doesn’t sound concerned in the least. A total contradiction to his question.
Matt snorts. “I’m her boyfriend. You know that. Now fuck off, Ryat.” “No, you’re not. And yes, he is,” I answer him. Finally able to yank my
arm free of Matt’s grip, rubbing the sensitive skin.
“You just admitted to cheating on me, and you’re saying I’m the problem?” Matt shouts, getting everyone’s attention.
“You were cheating on me.” I shove my finger into his hard chest. “And that’s why I dumped your lying ass.”
He runs his hands through his hair, releasing a deep breath. His body is tense, and he looks like he’s about to punch something. “I knew you’d be just another fucking whore. You’ve been throwing yourself at me for years.”
I want to be embarrassed that he just said I beg him for sex, but I can’t. I’m in too much shock that he’s mad I cheated on him when he was the one who was actually cheating. I broke up with him, then messed around with a stranger. Not the other way around.
Ryat looks back at Matt and tilts his head to the side. “Looks like someone chose your bitch.” He shrugs carelessly. “Told you that would happen.”
“You son of …” “Matt?”
What the actual fuck? His girlfriend also joins our conversation. Does she go to Barrington? If so, what year is she? “What’s going on?” she asks, coming up to us, her eyes searching all of ours.
Matt thins his lips. I wait for him to push her away, to explain all of this to me. He said we needed to talk, so now is his best chance if I’ve ever seen one. He can fill her in on us, and I can find out just how long he’s been screwing her.
Instead, he takes her hand and yanks her down the hall. She throws a look of concern over her shoulder at me, and I have a second of pity for her. I bet she didn’t even know about me.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter to myself, a laugh escaping my lips. What did I really expect from Matt, though? He has already proven to me what kind of man he is. I just never paid much attention. Now my eyes are wide open.
I see Ryat lower his lips to my ear out of the corner of my eye. My laughter stops, and I hold my breath as he whispers, “Told you he was over you.”
I inhale sharply as he pulls away. Reaching up, he slowly runs his hand through my hair while his eyes search mine. Blood is rushing in my ears, heart hammering in my chest. I’m speechless. No! It can’t be. Can it?
It was Ryat? If so, did he plan that? Was it because of his hatred for Matt?
Tilting his head to the side, he drops his eyes to my lips. “You’ve been asking about a chosen.” His eyes come back to mine. “All you need to know is this …” Stepping into me, he gently pulls my head back by my hair, forcing me to look up at him. I swallow nervously. “It means that what I did to you was just the beginning.” Lowering his lips to my ear, he adds, “I’ll own you, Blake.” He shortens my name, his free hand comes up, and he trails a finger down my neck over my racing pulse, making my body break out in goose bumps. “And I think that’s exactly what you want.” With that, he takes a step back, leaving me to watch him walk away, my pussy now wet and shocked that it was him.
RYAT
IT’S BEEN A week since the party at the house of Lords, and she’s been on my mind every second of every day. I see her here and there, but I don’t approach her. I don’t have to. The way she avoids me tells me exactly what I need to know—she thinks of me. I doubt she remembers much from that night. She was wasted, and in a sense, I took advantage of her in more ways than one. I’m not even sorry.
Making my way up the stairs to the third floor, I enter the library at Barrington. It’s after ten o’clock on a Friday night, and she’s here studying like the good little girl she is.
Looking around, I scan the rows of tables and empty chairs. The students are getting drunk and fucking. No one here has to study. Parents pay for their kids to attend this college, knowing it guarantees them perfect grades.
But Blakely—I know she’s here—I know where she’s at all the time. If I’m not following her, I’m watching her.
Shoving my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, I start to walk past the rows of bookshelves, looking down either side for her.
Passing the second to last one, I pause and take a step back. She stands at the end, an open book in her hands, staring down at it, lost in her own little world. Such a stupid move. Anyone could drag her out of here kicking and screaming, and no one would ever know. She’d just disappear. Poof. Like magic. Thankfully for her, I’m not going to do that. Instead, I pull out my cell phone and take a pic of her. Then I send it to her.
I overheard her conversation with Matt in the hallway on Monday. She thought he was the guy she allowed to go down on her at the party. I wanted her to know it was me! I did that to her. It was just the beginning of what I can do. I gave her what little information she needed in order to want more. She’s already curious, but now I want her needy. Begging for what Matt hasn’t been able to give her.
I don’t hear it go off, but she readjusts the book in one hand to hold it while grabbing her cell with the other. She opens it up, and her body stiffens when she sees the incoming picture message. I watch the way her tits start to bounce at her intake of breath, and I lick my lips.
Her head snaps up, and her wide blue eyes meet mine. “Ryat?” she asks nervously, her eyes shooting behind me. I stand at the end of the aisle, trapping her between the bookcases and the wall behind her. She’s got no way out. “What are you doing here?”
I have to refrain from smirking. She doesn’t care that I took her number that night. Instead, her concern is why I’m here. Stalking her. I don’t answer but start walking over to her. She turns to fully face me, and she takes a few steps back. Big mistake. It just places her back against the wall, giving me an even better advantage of keeping her here.
Ripping the book from her hands, I drop it to the floor by our feet. She looks up at me, her pretty blue eyes searching mine. She’s got her glasses on tonight, and I find them sexy as fuck. Stepping into her, I reach up and cup her face, my free hand sliding behind her back to pull her into me. Leaning down, I trail my lips along her ear, and she melts into me. Her soft yet firm body presses into me, and I whisper, “I can still taste you.”
She inhales sharply at my words, her hands gripping my shirt.
“You tasted like goddamn honey,” I growl, my hand moving into her long, thick hair. “So fucking sweet.” She whimpers. “So fucking addicting.” My cock is hard, straining against my jeans. I want to fuck her pretty face right here. I don’t know how Matt was ever able to deny her.
“Wait,” she breathes. Her hands start to push me away, and I take a step back. I need her to accept me for now. After the vow ceremony, I can force her to do whatever I want.
I drop my hands to my sides but don’t speak. Instead, I just stare at her. Taking in the way her cheeks blush and her lips part while her breathing picks up. I imagine her doing that while I pin her down, her legs wrapped around my hips. My cock fucking that tight pussy and her screaming my name while I pull out and come all over her pretty face.
She bows her head and pushes her hair behind her ear. She’s nervous. It’s cute to see her like this around me. Especially since I’ve already had my tongue shoved up her cunt.
“I want to know what you meant.” Lifting her eyes, she looks up at me through her dark lashes, adjusting her glasses up on her nose.
I act stupid. “About?”
“The chosen one.” Licking her lips, she crosses her arms over her chest. “What does it mean? I don’t understand—”
“You don’t have to,” I interrupt her.
Her lips thin, and she looks away from me, huffing. “Why would someone willingly give themselves to something that they know nothing about?”
Is that why she’s here? She’s trying to find a book about a Lord? Although I can understand her concern, it doesn’t mean I sympathize enough to give her what she wants. As a Lord, we don’t know everything going in. Another Lord cannot share secrets with someone who isn’t a member. So, even my father couldn’t tell me much about it. It was just something I had to do. Just like her—she’s a direct order that I have to follow. I won’t lose my Lord title for her. I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed too much to let her get away. So, I give her a little something to think about.
Choosing my question carefully, I ask, “Haven’t you ever wanted to do something for yourself?”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course.”
I know when I’m done with her, she will be Matt’s wife. It won’t matter if she hates him or not. She will spend the rest of her life serving him. But before then, she’ll serve me.
“I’ve tried to look it up online …”
I laugh, and her eyes shoot daggers at me. “You won’t find anything about a Lord or chosen one on the internet.”
Growling, she stomps her foot. “Then where?”
Stepping back into her, I place my hands flat against the wall on either side of her head. She stiffens, sucking in a breath. “You won’t find anything about us anywhere. Because the Lords don’t discuss their lives with outsiders,” I say simply.
The tip of her tongue peeks out before she sucks her bottom lip in and nibbles on it. “If I …” She pauses. “Choose to be your chosen one.” Lowering her voice, she whispers, “Will you hurt me?”
Giving her a smirk, I answer truthfully. “Yes.” She whimpers, her eyes falling closed.
“But … I’ll also make you like it.”
Her eyes open, and she stares up at me. I can see it. She’s so fucking curious. Blakely Anderson is starving for something that not just any man can give her. But I can. I’ll show her just what Matt refused to. “Matt didn’t want you, Blake,” I say. Dropping my hand from the wall, I run it down her neck, feeling her pulse race. “But I do.” Not a total lie. I might have never looked at her twice if not for the order to make her my chosen. But I see her now. And she’s exactly what I fucking need. A toy to use. A body to fuck. And sweet fucking revenge.
“You only want me because of Matt,” she states, sticking out her chin as if she can read my mind.
I smile but don’t correct her. Blakely’s a smart woman. Instead, I say, “And that’s the exact reason you’ll choose to be mine.” With that, I push off the wall, giving her my back, and leave her standing there to think about our conversation.
