as he can walk without seeming like he's running away. I smirk at his back but wait to say what I'm thinking until he's out of earshot.
"Pussy."
42
Dean
I stalk through the house feeling angry and dangerous. Was this such a good idea? I wonder. Having her in such close quarters for a full fucking week. Right across the hall. Available. Waiting. Ready for me.
She wants me, that much I know is true. The lake. Her fucking dorm room. The jealousy in her tone when she mentioned Kate. Oh, I know she won't admit it, but that doesn't make it disappear. The only problem I'm having is this desire I feel for her.
Avalon is trouble. Not only are the old men interested in her—for reasons I still haven't figured out—she's a wild card. Untamable. And that only makes me want to control her even more. Every word I spoke to her while I was there in her bed, between those lush thighs of hers, had been true. She's not the kind of girl that’ll let a man inside her without trust. It's not like I want her trust. I don't give a shit about that. I just want her to stop fucking with my head. Every time I get near her, my cock pounds and I want nothing more than to rip off her cheap clothes and spread her across my bed like a meal fit for the King I fucking am.
How long has it been since I've gotten laid? Maybe that's it. Maybe all I need is to get some head or some easy pussy and then all of this desire will disappear. Perhaps it's not really her that I desire.
With my thoughts running in circles through my head, I make my way back up the stairs to the main floors and go in search of Abel. I find him—and Brax—in the media room, their bags dumped haphazardly to the side, already in spring break mode.
Both have stripped off their shirts, the air in the room hot with so many bodies piled into it. At least eight guys sit across the giant horseshoe shaped couch, their eyes zeroed in on the flat screen TV that spans more than half of the wall in front of them. Half of the screen is replaying an old football game and the other half is a split top and bottom with two players racing cars around an unending track.
I shake my head as the top car on the screen skids and flips, wrecking and causing half of the couch's occupants to scream angrily, and make my way over to where Abel and Brax stand against the windows, watching the pool game taking place.
"I need you to help me look after the girl this week," are the first words out of my mouth.
Abel's head lifts in surprise while Brax merely ignores my comment in favor of taking a pool cue and moving into position. I switch the full brunt of my focus onto Abel.
"Why?" he asks.
"I just need to make sure she doesn't do anything stupid while she's here," I say.
Before Abel can respond, the side door opens and two of Eastpoint's top cheerleaders enter in string bikinis that could probably double for tooth floss. "Hi, Dean," one says, waving at me as she passes.
The muscles in my back stiffen as she runs a hand across the upper part of my spine. I almost tell her to get her fucking fingers off me before I break them. Almost. Instead, I keep the comment to myself and give her a brief nod of acknowledgment before turning back to Abel. "Can you do this for me?" I ask, meeting his gaze.
Abel frowns. "You wanted her here, man," he says with a shake of his head. "You're on your own with that girl."
"We need to keep her close. The—"
"Yeah, yeah, they want us to keep an eye on her," Abel says, cutting me off. I grit my teeth and resist the urge to snap at him. "The thing is," he continues. "We could've done that with a PI or something. Hell, I bet we could've let her stay in the dorms and had one of the managers or even her roommate watch her for us, but no. You wanted her as close as possible. Close enough to put her in the extra room." He lifts his eyebrows as if making a point. And a fucking good one at that.
What else was I supposed to do, though? I couldn't trust