“Is that why you had Ford send me up here?”
I reach over to cup her cheek, thumbing her lower lip. “Don’t act like you didn’t come running for the chance to suck my cock, Chels.”
Desire flares in her eyes and she licks my thumb, gaze darting down to the obvious hard-on pressing against the zipper of my dark jeans. “Here?”
I give her a single nod, playing right into her insecurities and obsessive need to stake her claim on me. She’ll take any opportunity to publicly fondle my dick, asserting her superiority over all the other try-hards that proposition me on a daily basis.
Chelsea slides off the sectional to her knees in front of me, her nimble fingers landing on my belt, unfastening it, and popping the button on my jeans. I settle back into the leather cushions as she drags my zipper down and reaches into my boxers, lithe hand wrapping around my cock to pull it free.
I’m hard as a fucking rock– Ford isn’t the only one fighting a mean case of blue balls.
It has nothing to do with Ava herself. Any guy would be hard pressed to stand by and watch someone get a blowjob without popping a stiffy. At least that’s what I tell myself as Chelsea lowers her head over my lap, the tip of my dick slipping past the seam of her lips.
The warm wetness of her mouth sheathes my cock and a low grunt escapes me, my gaze flickering over to the opposite end of the couch. Wes and Stella are engaged in conversation, the latter purposefully looking away while Wes’ eyes ping back and forth between his twin and the show that Chelsea’s putting on. Blair, on the other hand, isn’t even trying to hide her interest. She’s watching Chelsea and me with heat in her eyes, a flush crawling up her neck.
She’s been thirsty for my dick since Freshman year, but I’m not particularly interested in Ford’s sloppy seconds, especially after he complained that she chafed him by using her teeth. My indifference toward Blair hasn’t stopped her from throwing herself at me, though, despite her claims that she’s Chelsea’s best friend. From the look in her eyes now, there’s no hiding the fact she wishesshewas the one on her knees in front of me.
Chelsea pumps the base of my shaft in one hand as she continues to bob up and down over my cock, sucking and licking and pulling out all her best tricks to push me toward the finish line. I let my head fall back against the cushion behind me, eyes sliding closed. As soon as they do, I’m assaulted with unwanted images of my slutty little stepsister on her knees for my friend,my memory replaying that defiant look in her eyes when Wes shoved his dick past her lips, the little moans she made as Ford got her off echoing in my eardrums.
I sink a hand into Chelsea’s hair, tugging on the strands to direct her head over my lap, just like Wes did to Ava. She picks up her pace, and I shudder a breath at the sensation of her lips gliding over my shaft, her tongue swirling around the head. For a second I imagine that they’re someone else’s lips; someone else’s tongue.
Fuck.
My balls tighten, muscles going rigid as release crashes over me. A groan rattles from my throat as I blow my load down Chelsea’s, the greedy bitch slurping up every drop with enthusiasm. She licks me clean, then rocks back on her heels, staring up at me with a look of pride on her face.
“Dang, that was fast,” she comments, swiping saliva from the corner of her mouth with a thumb. “Guess I’m just that good.”
“Sure, babe,” I snort dismissively, tucking myself back into my boxers and fixing my jeans. Getting off should give me a reprieve, but I feel the shadows immediately start to creep in again, throwing back the rest of my bourbon and extending the empty glass in her direction. “Why don’t you go get me a refill?”
Chelsea frowns, snatching the glass from me and pushing up to her feet. “You’re a dick sometimes, you know that?” she mutters before scampering off to do what she’s told like a good little pet.
I just shrug, settling back onto the couch and gazing out over the party raging below. At all the fucking sheep casting wary glances up here, wishing they were in my place.
It’s good to be King.
CHAPTER 10
WES
The campus is alwaysquiet the morning after one of our epic parties. The students who attended are either holed up in their dorm rooms sleeping off their hangovers or stumbling around bleary-eyed, propelled by caffeine and painkillers. I’ve got a raging headache of my own to contend with, but I force myself out of bed to hunt down some coffee and post up in the library for a few hours, determined to get some studying in before my degenerate roommates wake up and derail my plans with something they deem more important.
The library is a ghost town when I enter. I pick my way through the stacks, bound for the tables in the back by the windows that overlook the quad. When I round the corner, I expect to find a few other students back here studying. What I don’t expect is for one of them to be Ava.
Guess she didn’t run after all.
I pause in momentary surprise, adjusting my black-framed glasses on the bridge of my nose. I ditched my contacts last night because they were killing my eyes, and I couldn’t be bothered to find a new pair to put in this morning. Plus, a surprising number of women dig the sexy nerd look when I rock the glasses.
Ava’s tucked behind a table, textbooks and notebooks spread out in front of her. She’s not paying them much attention at the moment, though– she’s distracted from her studies by the guy leaning against the table beside her, chatting her up.
Travis Stoker, the bane of my fucking existence.
The dude has been a thorn in my side since the first day I stepped foot on this campus. He clocked Raf and Ford as big fish right away and immediately attempted to edge me out of our triad, thinking he could just slide in as my replacement.As if the Invictus would allow a substitution.If I wasn’t given the boot after my father’s fall from grace, then TravisfuckingStoker definitely didn’t stand a chance of dethroning me as a King. He’s just lucky his family name means something to the Invictus, or I’d have put a swift end to his shit-talking long ago.
I start to advance on them, Ava getting this adorable deer in the headlights look when she spots me striding toward her. Her eyes pop wide, lips parted in frozen shock– as if the library is the last place she expected to run into me.
Surprise.
“Beat it, Trav,” I mutter as I approach, tossing a thumb over my shoulder.
