The Jock by J.L. Beck Page 0,90

across her porcelain skin just to see if it’s as soft and smooth as it looks. I want to inhale her sweet scent into my lungs and let it drag me under. No. I snarl to myself.

I can’t get distracted by her beauty. I need to concentrate on what I really want…really need. I remind myself that her beauty is only an illusion, hiding the ugly person inside. Everything about Willow is a facade, she’s faker than most of the girls here at Blackthorn.

Trying my best to blend in and not raise any attention, I stay in the background. Hiding my face in the few shadowy corners, this large room has to offer. I’m not used to this, hiding in plain sight. Normally, I would be the center of attention, the spotlight on me, but not today. I don’t think most people here even know who I am, not yet anyway.

As I watch from across the room, my eyes move from Willow to her father, William Bradford. He’s talking to another parent, doesn’t care about anything but money and power. I’ll bet anything his daughter being here has very little to do with getting a good education and everything to do with getting back in the good graces of the elite families. I still wonder how he got her enrolled in the first place. Why did my father let her attend?

“Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?” Warren, one of my best friends, says, as he nudges me in the arm.

“Nothing,” I grit out, but my response doesn’t match my behavior. There’s loads wrong with me, and Warren can see that from a mile away.

“Is that her?” he asks, tipping the champagne flute in his hand toward her.

All I do is grunt because she’s not worthy of any more of my attention, let alone both of ours. Warren follows my line of vision, and we both stare at her as she scowls at all the other families as they pass by. Does she think she is better than everybody here? Probably.

“She’s pretty, in a Snow White kind of way.” He isn’t wrong. Black hair, ivory skin, and ruby red lips. She does look like Snow White, and I guess that makes me her Huntsman. The only difference is, our story won’t end like a fairytale.

“Don’t be fooled by her beauty, it’s just a trick, an illusion to hide all the ugly on the inside. She might be pretty, but she’s like a deadly poison.”

“All women are like poison,” he mumbles, his face scrunching up as he stares at her more intently. Gritting my teeth, I stop myself from slugging him in the face. I have to remind myself that he is not the enemy here, she is.

My obsession with her has ruled my mind for so long. It’s hard for me to shove the territorial thoughts away, to separate me wanting to have her and wanting to destroy her. She’s not mine, and she never will be.

“What’s the plan?”

“Revenge. I will make her life a living hell while she is here. I’m going to make her feel the same pain she caused my family.” And then some.

“You mean to tell me you aren’t going to sample that fine piece of ass before you destroy her? Or maybe that’s how you get your revenge? What if she’s a virgin? Wouldn’t that be the perfect way to make her pay? To claim the one and only thing she has to give her new husband?”

My throat tightens, and I swallow thickly at the thought. For years I’ve wondered what it would be like to dive between her thighs and taste her. To drink from her until there was nothing left. Would I feast, ravishing her, or would I sip like a fine wine?

“This isn’t the fifteen hundreds. She is eighteen, I highly doubt she is still a virgin or saving herself for marriage.”

Warren cocks his head to the side, and out of the corner of my eye, I see his gaze raking over her body. Across the room, unaware of all the attention, she stands with her arms crossed over her chest. The swell of her breasts is peeking out of that innocent-looking pink blouse, and I wonder if she knows that she is pushing up her tits standing like that.

My eyes move on their own, traveling over her heart-shaped face, and those sparkling green eyes, that hold a million and one secrets. I burn to crack her open, to snap her