Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,112

forcing a cry from my throat when he hits me at just the right angle. “I knew the rumors were true. You love it, don’t you? Feeling me in your tight ass. Fuck.” He doesn’t last long, grunting into my sweaty neck as he fills me, pulsing deep inside.

There’s a moment when he’s still inside of me, both of us breathing hard, that I feel his fingers on the side of my breast. I take a long moment to realize he’s touching the bruise he made the other day in his car, when he squeezed too hard.

So softly that I might have missed it, he breathes, “My bad,” and then gathers my breast into his soft palm, bending down to brush his lips over the bruise. If it can be called an apology at all, it feels like it’s made more to my boob than to me.

I don’t bother moving when he slips out. Everything feels slow and muddled, like maybe I never woke up at all. Maybe this is all some weird and very sexy lucid dream I’m having.

The next blip of any awareness I have is the sound of my alarm.

I look for Heston, but I’m in the bed alone. There’s no sticky reminder between my legs, no sign that a man had been between them the night before, but as I wake, I notice the covers are straight and pulled to my chin. I prop up on my elbows and see the flash of something silver on the pillow next to mine.

I pick up the square and stare at it for a long moment, and the rush of truth comes back to me.

Heston had shown up under the cloak of night, not just for sex, but to give me what I’d asked for and a little bit of what I didn’t know I wanted. It was surprising, and different.

It’s way too early to think about what it means, so instead, I unwrap the foil, pop the chocolate in my mouth, and get ready for the day.

“Okay, what about Fiona?”

“Cheerleader,” Heston observes from his spot on the couch. “Popular. She ditched the skank, so she must not be completely stupid.” Caroline makes a face at him, which is fair. He’s the one who dated Sydney—If you can call what they were doing ‘dating’. He concludes, “She looks good on paper.”

I avoid looking at him, afraid that I’ll glimpse the way he’s sitting, legs spread, lounged back, and become a slave to my baser impulses. It’s been a couple days since Heston snuck into my room and ate me out, and with the way things are shaping up, I’ll be seeking him out later for a repeat.

But for now, we need to choose the new Devils. This morning, someone had slipped another one of those black envelopes beneath my door. It was short and sweet; the initiation will begin in three weeks.

Since there hasn’t been much headway being made, Caroline suggested a purely data-driven approach, which is why the three of us are huddled around her laptop, staring at a color-coded spreadsheet. It has a dozen rows with various attributes, some weighted more heavily than others.

Fiona seems to check all boxes.

“I’m good with Fiona,” I say. Vandy gives me a begrudging nod, while Heston stares at his phone, looking bored as ever.

He’s easier with the girls. “Josie is a bitch,” he says when she’s brought up, looking half distracted, “but she’s got everything. Looks, money, attitude.” He seems down with almost every girl suggested.

Aside from Micha, which had gotten a, “Yes, obviously, but you’re going to need to invite his twin sister, because there’s no way he can keep it from her,” he’s a lot harder on the guys.

Caroline skims the list. “How about Gus Meyers?”

“Pass,” Heston says. I don’t really like the way he says it—all obstinate, in a way the brooks no argument, as if he’s the authority here.

Caroline turns to argue, “Gus is pretty popular. Smart. Rich. Athletic. He got a high score on the SAT.”

“He’s a douche.” His eyes dart to mine and back to his phone, knee bouncing. “And his little brother is worse. You need to plan ahead for legacies.”

Vandy shoots him a glare, but when she turns back to the screen, she mutters, “Something to consider.”

“As much as I hate to say it, I agree with Heston.” He fakes being shocked for the benefit of the girls. “Jase is pretty awful. I’ve had a run-in with him. In swim, I mean,” I