The Jock by J.L. Beck Page 0,91

in two, and see what comes out.

“Maybe, or maybe not? You never know, and with as cold and uptight as she looks, I wouldn’t be surprised. She seems like she needs to be thoroughly fucked.”

“Shut up,” I growl, tugging the hood of my sweater further down over my face. “I doubt it, and even if she is, I don’t care. It changes nothing.” I have a different idea on how to break her.

Warren smirks. “Well, if you don’t care, I think I’ll just waltz on over there and introduce myself. Test the waters a little? Get my dick wet? You know I’m all about leaving a lasting impression.” The fucker winks, and I curl my hand into a tight fist instinctively. Best friend or not, I would punch him in the face without thought.

Asshole. I bite my tongue, feeling compelled to tell him, no, but I don’t. Willow is free game to any fuckface at this school, Warren included.

“Be my guest, but I don’t want to hear you bitching when you catch something. You don’t know who has been between her legs.”

“I’ll look at it before I stick my dick in it. Make sure there is no rash,” he snickers. “Or at least, not a nasty looking one.”

“Good luck with that.” He’s probably going to be the one to give her something. I make a habit of not fucking girls after Warren has been with them, which narrows down the list of available pussy dramatically. “Let me know how experienced she was when you are done.”

“Doesn’t matter. After I’ve been there, all the others will be a forgotten memory.” Flipping me his middle finger, he walks away and heads for her like a cat prowling across the African savanna. She’ll never stand a chance against Warren. He’s a natural predator, even worse than me. Curiously, I watch as he greets her. Like most women, she smiles as he introduces himself.

Everything inside of me says to follow him over there, to drag him away, but I can’t. I don’t want to give myself away yet. The element of surprise is going to be my biggest asset here. Willow will never see me coming, and that’s what I need. I can’t wait to see her face fill with fear when she realizes she’s walked head-first into her own nightmare.

As I’m standing there, watching; Willow smiles at something Warren says, a wave of jealousy slams into me. It’s powerful enough to take me out at the knees, but I suck in a deep breath and push it down, burying it deep inside my gut.

Fucking asshole.

Shaking my head, I tell myself that I’m not going to let Warren ruin this for me. Not with his antics, charm, or snide comments. And Willow, she’s not worth being jealous over. I can have any girl I want here at Blackthorn. She’s nothing special. Nothing at all.

Lost in thought for a brief moment, I miss the rest of the interaction between Warren and Willow, and when I look back up, I find Willow cowering beneath her father’s icy gaze. I don’t know why, but in that moment, I want to walk over there and kick her father’s ass. I want to tell him that he doesn’t belong here, that the only person that can hurt her is me, but I don’t. Instead, I tamp down the feeling, reminiscing about all the wrongs the Bradfords have done to my family.

“Breaking her is going to be so easy. She’s delicate, like glass, when I kissed her hand, I swear, she shivered.” I can see the wheels in Warren’s head turning. “I will definitely help you break her. It’ll be fun, give me something to do.” He wiggles his eyebrows, “And I do mean literally. She’s prettier than I expected. I might give her a ride or two.”

Snapping, I growl, “Her beauty has nothing to do with this.”

Warren snickers, “Liar. It has everything to do with it. Her beauty is a weakness for you.”

Taking a step toward Warren, I bump my chest into his. We’re the same height, same body type. In a fight, we would be pretty much equal, that is, if he’d ever fight. I doubt he’s ever fought in his life. I might come from a filthy rich family, but I’ve gotten my hands dirty more than once. Warren is nothing more than a pretty boy with a sick and twisted mind. He’s a fly, a gnat. I don’t know why, but I feel the need to remind him that she’s mine. That all of this has to do with my revenge on her.

Gritting my teeth, I stare down my best friend. “She’s mine to break. Mine to hurt. Do you understand that, or do I need to explain it to you in detail?” My fists clench and unclench, rage flickering through my veins like an out of control forest fire.

Warren blinks, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to fight me on it, but instead, he gives me a chin nod and takes a step back. That’s right, you know you don’t stand a chance. A sickening satisfaction fills my gut. Not wanting to make a scene, I back down. I have better things to do for the rest of the day.

Tonight, I’ll make my presence known.

Tonight, I’ll remind her of all the wrong her family has done.

Continue reading Hating You

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