Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
The other option was to push him face-first against the wall and force my cock in his ass raw, because I have my own needs, and his arched back would be the perfect canvas for my cum.
But I went easy on him.
He should be thanking me for my mercy, really.
I grab my shirt and slam the bathroom door shut behind me as I leave. He can call me a sick freak until he’s blue in the face.
I know I am.
And that’s a promise, too.
3
Noah
The front room of Luros House is a strobing blur as I make my way through a sea of people.
“The front door,” Roman calls out from behind me over the thumping bass of the Suicideboys song on the sound system. “Just get to the front door.”
“Trying,” I call back to him.
“Summer fucking kickoff baby, toss it back!” one of the girls says in front of me, and a circle of people all tip their heads back and take shots of green liquor. One girl stumbles a little as she moves, and she hits the side of my body, nearly falling over.
A splash of cold liquid hits my arm.
Tequila, by the scent of it. It shines under the strobing light and I tense up as I move, almost hitting a different guy behind me.
“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” the girl says, reaching back to grip my arm.
“Don’t sweat it,” I tell her. “Could you let us through to the front door?”
“Steffie! Move aside, bitch!” she shouts toward her friend blocking the way, and the girls erupt into laughter and finally clear a way for us.
I lead the way forward and finally, mercifully, swing open the heavy front door onto the front deck outside the house.
The fresh air hits my face and I breathe in deep.
Someone must have been grilling a couple of hours ago, because the summer air still smells like barbecue, and there’s just enough warmth in the air that it’s perfect T-shirt weather.
It’s a small relief for the pounding in my head.
A summer kickoff party at Luros Sorority like this used to be my happy place, and if I were still trying to be a fuckboy, this party would be a gold mine of pleasures and perfect bad decisions.
But I’m glad to be leaving.
And strangely enough, I’m glad that I’m not sloshed drunk like I’d usually be, either.
“That is what I needed,” I say under my breath as my friends file out from behind me, one by one.
The saving grace keeping this summer from being a shitshow is that my closest friends are still here on campus. A few of us decided to stay for summer break, and then more and more of us got on board.
Weston, Sev, Ollie, Niko, Hunter, Rayne, and Roman all spill out onto the front deck, some of them drunker than others.
Being with the boys feels like having armor around me, though.
I need them.
Now more than ever.
Heading back to Onyx House means something different this summer, too, now that Torin’s here and his presence claws at me like a constant reminder of the wedding night.
It was two weeks ago now.
I’m still plagued by the memory of the way he made me snap, slamming him against the shower before he slammed me right back.
I’ve never done that to anyone.
I can’t remember a single time I’ve had a violent urge in my life, actually.
But I felt cornered, like Torin’s presence had been smoldering like kindling all day and finally, it ignited.
The way his eyes looked when he caught me… and the way I couldn’t control my reaction.
Stupid.
So stupid.
And now I have Stepbrother fucking Psychotic sharing a goddamn house with me.
We all congregate on the front deck of Luros House.
I’m leaning against one of the columns out front, waiting for the rest of the guys to catch up.
A few people from the party are out on the railing, leaning over toward the front lawn and smoking as we walk by.
“Hey, Noah,” Emmy Miller says as I head down the short front steps, giving me a quick wave. She’s wearing dark, stylish sunglasses even though it’s one in the morning, and her best friend is standing beside her with a joint between her fingers.
“How’s it going?” I ask.
“Stellar,” she tells me with a little smirk. “Have a good night.”
Emmy doesn’t even bother to wait until I’m three steps down onto the front yard path before she’s talking shit about me to her friend.
“Could smell the alcohol before he even walked outside,” she says under her breath.
Clearly she’s referring to the liquor that got spilled on me.
Even when I’m not drinking, everyone still assumes I am.
My reputation, still preceding me.
Lucky, lucky me.
Her friend laughs. “You dodged a bullet with him.”
“Mmm, I think tequila was better girlfriend material for Noah than I was.”
I could spin around and explain that I’m actually sober, or tell Emmy’s best friend that Emmy was the one who was horrible relationship material to begin with. She said she wanted to be exclusive with me, then fucked a dude from Double Daggers the next week.