my body. Not because I willingly allowed it, but because he doesn’t know how to knock.
“Already fucking Teach, huh?” Barrett ‘Breaker’ Davenport, the third boy in their crew, sits in the seat beside me. “It’s weak, girl. You should know better than that.”
“No one’s fucking anyone,” I groan. Do I have a sign on my forehead that says ‘Assholes, please speak to me today’?
“Well, that’s just simply not true.” Breaker swivels his hips from side to side, gesturing at the seats surrounding us. “We’re all fucking someone. It will never be you, though.”
Mirroring Breaker’s movements by twisting in my seat, I come face-to-face with all the Glass House Boys. It’s the name given to those who are privileged enough to live at the top of the hill. The house up there is secluded and unwatched by those in power on campus. They shuffle new students in every four years, and these ass hats are on their last lifeline.
How are these boys chosen? That shit is beyond me. Since I have a pussy under my school uniform, I’m instantly not privy to those kinds of things. It’s something I’ve never understood.
Byron lives up there, even though he isn’t a student. He’d petitioned the school board, arguing an impressive case for why he should be there to babysit his younger brother. Every member ate his words up. Charismatic cocktail and all. It also doesn’t hurt their father is a major donor to the academy.
“Oh, no!” I clasp at my chest, mocking them. “Whatever will I do without knowing what it feels like to have an overused dick pummeled into me twice before you cum all over my dorm sheets?” My hands cover my heart in pretend disappointment. “However will I live without that experience?”
Breaker stands and grabs his dick. “You couldn’t handle me.” He leans down, never dropping his stare from mine, and brings his lips right to my ear. “My dick would tear your small frame in half, baby girl.” He pulls away and walks backwards, a cocky grin on display like he’s won something.
“At this point, you three are practically a rite of passage on campus I’d gladly miss out on.” Playing with fire on a Monday morning isn’t the brightest choice. The cards have been dealt, and now I’m working with what I have.
“Don’t listen to him.” Marek Hawthorne settles in beside me. And there’s the last one, the most gorgeous of them all. “I’d drive my dick into you. That is if you wanted it. Not really into non-consensual sex like Dixon, though.” He leans into me, and I hate the way it makes my stomach do a somersault.
I stare at Marek, uncertain as to why he’s sitting next to me. We’ve had classes together since elementary school, and we’ve never breathed the same air.
Not unless Reed was close by.
“Fuck you, man.” Dixon smacks him on the back of the head as he passes. “Those charges were dropped, and she apologized. With her mouth.” He slams through the large wooden doors.
Last year, a girl claimed Dixon sexually assaulted her. Lucky for Dixon, he has a fetish for recording his conquests. All it took was him walking that footage down to the police station, and charges were dropped. Rumor has it, the sex had been rough, but she had been more than willing to lay down with him.
Marek plays with the lapels of his black jacket. The fabric fits him like a second skin, pulled tight over his shoulders. His tie is disheveled like he has just rolled out of bed. I bite my lip, trying to stop the thoughts I’m having about what’s hidden underneath his uniform.
Maybe I am weak.
His hair is a dark mess, pulling off the ‘just woke up’ look effortlessly. His eyes are what draw me in, though. Cornflower blue, soft and inviting, they’re the exact opposite of everything else about him. His presence is massive and full of self-confidence. It’s no wonder why everyone seems to gravitate to him.
It doesn’t go unnoticed that Breaker and Dixon have walked out of class before it has even begun. My guess is there will be a check mark next to their name on the attendance sheet, courtesy of Mr. Decatur.
“Can you, like, not sit right next to me?” I twist my shoulders away from Marek, hoping he’ll get the idea.
“Afraid of being seen with a hidden legacy?” His amused laughter annoys the hell out of me. “I never took you as a snob, Palmer.”