Rule, page 2
“Alex, you need to tell Dad—”
“I can’t tell Dad. He’ll freak, and I really want to save my misery card so that I can hopefully talk him into letting me move out. If he has to fix my Honda, that’s it. I’m stuck here with Skylar.”
“Ignore Skylar. She’s only jealous because you look better than her.” Jude laughs again at something or someone. I shake my head as I set my mug down to spy out the window at a couple of gardeners taking their lawnmower and blower out of their truck.
“You haven’t seen her in a while.” I snort. “I think she got her nose done. She looks really beautiful, Jude. So it’s not a jealousy thing. It’s more like she’s so self-centered that she thinks I’m beneath her or something. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” Turning, I dump my coffee into the sink, then reach for a banana. Screw it, I’m starving.
“Just get an Uber. Here, I’ll send you sixty bucks on Apple Pay,” he says. “Look, you wanted to go to the West Coast so bad. You worked your ass off to get into that fucking entitled school. You should pack your shit and go to Ohio State with me. It’s time you let loose and had some fun.”
“You got a full scholarship to play football, Jude,” I remind him, rolling my eyes as I quickly eat the banana, trying not to let it sting that he’s right—my whole life I’ve been “good.” God, I hope that’s not what happened to Skylar. She spent all her life being perfect, and now she’s insane. I mean, look at her house—it’s immaculate, but there’s a sadness, like it wants to be used. Hardwood floors gleam, and the sweet smell of potpourri drifts through the place. It has two bedrooms and a great yard; the only drawback is the one bathroom. But at least it’s a decent size with an old clawfoot tub.
“Alex? You still there?” My brother’s voice makes me focus on the now, and how I wish I was him at the moment. Jude’s not only smart, but he’s also athletic. Things seem to come easy for him. Again, that bugs me.
I pop the last bite of the banana in my mouth, toss the peel into her stainless steel trash can, and like a paranoid weirdo, reach for some paper towels to toss on top of it.
“Yeah, I’m still here,” I mumble, my mouth still full while I try to swallow. “I’m literally hiding a banana peel. I wouldn’t put it past her to have a nanny cam watching me.” Turning, I wash my hands in the sink.
“What are you hiding? You’re breaking up. Look I’ve gotta roll. Text me later.” He hangs up before I even have a chance to complain more.
“Perfect,” I mutter into the now-disconnected phone propped between my chin and shoulder as I finish washing my hands.
And I’m back to being alone. I hate that. Maybe it’s a twin thing, but it’s something I struggle with all the time. What if Jude’s right, and I should have stayed in Ohio and gone to the state university like him?
“Just stop,” I whisper, running my hands up and down my black jeans. I deserve this. When all my friends were doing the minimum so they could have fun, I was studying or volunteering because that’s who I am. Getting into CAU was my dream come true, and I’m not about to let a couple of bad days and a bitchy sibling make me pack up and leave.
My phone dings and I look down to see a text from Jude. It’s that stupid GIF of Kim Kardashian tossing money. Then sixty dollars shows up from Apple Pay, which I instantly deposit, then order an Uber.
This is crazy. I don’t have money to Uber back and forth to school every day. I’m either gonna have to call my dad, or figure something else out, but right now I need to get there and get day one over with.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep, calming inhale and exhale. Everything is fine, fantastic really. It’s been a little bumpy lately, but that’s to be expected in a new environment.
Just get to school, Alex, and find your classes. Everything else will fall into place. What more can go wrong?
BRETT
“Fuck, Misty, you can suck a cock,” I hiss, looking down at the blond head of the woman currently deep throating me. Her big, tan fake tits push out of her sports bra. I twist one of her nipples, my other hand tightening on the back of her hair.
“You gonna swallow this morning.” It’s not a question because I know she’ll swallow. With a grunt, I let go, shooting my load straight down her throat. She gags but takes it all like the pro she is. Jerking her head off me, I grin while she licks her lips like a cat who just drank some cream. Standing, she reaches to pull off her black leggings, but I slap her ass.
“Not today, Mist. First day of classes.” I flash her a grin.
She freezes midjerk to straighten, giving me a prime view of her toned body and fully waxed pussy.
“But I’ll be quick.” She pouts, her fingers trailing up and down her well-toned abs.
“Can’t. But feel free to take care of yourself while I shower,” I say over my shoulder, jerking my sweaty T-shirt off. We had just finished our morning run on the beach when Misty attacked my cock.
Literally.
Hank, her eighty-six-year-old husband, is at his dermatologist appointment, getting another laser treatment so his old face can look even more waxy.
Who am I to say no to her? It wouldn’t be friendly, or neighborly for that matter. When she flounces onto my dark-green couch, I smirk.
“You’re lucky you have a giant cock and are pretty,” she huffs as she shimmies out of her leggings and promptly starts to rub her clit. Her loud porn star moans make me smile as I walk into my bathroom to start the shower.
Misty’s been my neighbor, and sometimes workout partner, for years. We hook up when I don’t have someone in my life. She was a huge porn star in her early twenties; then she met and married her current husband Hank, retired, and moved to Malibu to be a trophy wife.
Hank can’t get it up anymore. Misty is fun and no drama. That, and she can take my giant cock and deep throat it.
I don’t bother turning on the hot water—I take cold showers to keep my mind and body sharp—and soap myself up as I go over my day. I have the welcome back breakfast meeting for the engineering school, where one-hundred-and-fifty of my colleagues and staff will listen to the same shit we hear every year. I’ll stop by, smile, nod, grab a cup of coffee, and leave.
Next, I need to make a quick syllabus for this Engineering 101 class I said I’d cover. Jamie Knight just had a baby and is on maternity leave, so I said I’d help out. It’ll be good for me, keep me on my toes since I taught only one freshman class last year.
I shut off my shower and step out, grabbing my towel to dry quickly. I don’t hear Misty, so I assume she left. This is why we’ve stayed friends for so long. She wants nothing from me, well, besides my dick. We both get off with no strings attached.
Rubbing the towel back and forth on my wet hair, I toss it in the corner.
Walking into my bedroom and grabbing a pair of dark jeans, I pull them on and look out at my ocean view. I inherited this house from my grandparents. Well, both Jett and I did, but since he’s a multimillionaire, I got it.
It’s prime property on the ocean in Malibu. I could never afford anything close to this on my salary, and over time, I’m slowly remodeling it. This summer, I spent the break making it completely solar, even replacing the entire front of my house with energy-efficient windows. Now, when you walk in, you’re greeted with nothing but the sky and ocean for as far as you can see.
The house is my pride, my joy, and pretty much my baby. I pull a dress shirt off a hanger and walk out to the kitchen for my phone. I know a lot of deans like that old feel of corduroy and a tweed blazer, but that’s not me. I don’t even wear a suit unless I’m forced to wear one.
Turning off sleep mode, I move to my refrigerator for some orange juice, checking the traffic on PCH. It’s crap as usual, so I’ll take my bike—it needs to stretch its legs, so to speak, anyway.
“Jesus.” I sigh and frown at the text from Skylar.
SKYLAR: Want to grab lunch?
Taking another quick swig, I glance at the five, no six, texts from her earlier. They range from questions about my trip to what kind of wine did we drink on our first date.
I don’t bother responding or reading the rest, and pocket my phone. I should have known better. This is my fault. But what part of it’s over is she not comprehending? It’s been almost a month. When I was in Spain, I was lulled into thinking she’d moved on, since her calls and incessant texts had slowed.
Clearly, we’re not going back to our former friendly banter. Who am I kidding? Much like all my relationships, as soon as I put my dick in, the friend thing goes out the window.
Women can’t seem to understand I’m not boyfriend material. And it’s not like I lie to them or lead them on. I’m nothing but honest.
I. Don’t. Want. A. Relationship. Pretty simple. I don’t have time for one, and honestly, no one holds my interest mentally or physically for more than a month or so anyway. And they all say the same thing: Don’t worry, we’re on the same page. Then I fuck them, and that page changes.
With a shake of my head, I jerk on my shoes, grab my bag full of work stuff, and suit up for the ride. Trying to shrug off an incoming headache thanks to Skylar and her drama, I lock my door. Good thing Misty blew me. It’s left me with a small amount of calm and patience.
Heading to my Suzuki Hayabusa, I take a breath and look around. The morning mist is burning off, I’m getting ready for a new semester, and life is good. All this other shit is just dribble and will work itself out as I straddle my baby and start her up. An instant buzz of adrenaline flows through my veins as I twist the throttle and gun the bike out of my garage and onto PCH.
I should obey the law and wear a helmet. Not today, though. Leaning forward, I grin, my dick getting hard with the vibration of the bike. Shifting, I increase my speed, swerving in and out of the lanes as the ocean breeze whips my face.
I need this. Even if I get pulled over, I’ll accept the consequences. Because right now I crave the rush, the feeling that I’m completely alive. A shrink would say I’m an adrenaline junkie, and that would be right.
I do push myself.
I do get off on things that might scare others.
It’s how I’m wired. It drives me to want more, be more. It’s how I succeed. Pushing boundaries, living on the edge, that’s what turns me on.
ALEXANDREA
I want to cry, but I can’t. I’m frantically running down the hall, trying to make it, yet I know I’m out of time. I’m late.
Late.
It’s like a foreign word to me. I’m never late. I’m always the early one. But the Uber driver showed up fifteen minutes behind schedule, and we hit morning traffic on PCH. All that was still bearable. I didn’t completely lose it and panic until I lugged my hefty, overpacked backpack out of the car, only to be reminded of the sheer magnitude of this campus.
It’s huge.
And gorgeous, with enormous white Spanish villas, and lots of smaller buildings wrapped around picturesque green lawns, almost like a giant square. Palm trees sway with the ocean breeze as I take in the center courtyard. White rocks with red and purple flowers form the famous CAU logo. Flags for the state of California, CAU, and the United States slam home that this is one of the oldest, most prestigious private universities on the West Coast.
My parents came with me last year for the tour, but I don’t it remember it being this awe- inspiring. Originally, I’d planned to visit the campus on Friday to walk around and become a little more familiar with it so I could avoid what I’m doing right now.
“Stupid car,” I hiss under my breath. I can’t think about that right now. I’ll freak out later. Right now, please God, let this be the right room.
I look at my schedule on my phone, then up at the room number. This is it. I swing the door open, glancing at the time on the phone. Twelve minutes late. That’s not too bad. I mean, it’s the first day and all. Hopefully, class hasn’t even started.
“How can our earth, with a projected population of nine-billion people by 2050, still allow us to maintain our desired high quality of life…” The deep, growly voice makes me freeze, and my whole body tingles.
Oh dear God. The entire class stares at me along with the owner of that gravelly voice. Sniffing, I straighten my back, quickly move to a long table close to the back, and flop down, my backpack hitting the ground in the quiet room with a thud and tipping over.
“Jesus,” I hiss, feeling my cheeks heat like I’ve just come out of the sun and didn’t wear protection.
Just start talking, please… Why isn’t the professor talking? I look up and hear it before I see it.
“No, no…” I whisper, watching in horror as my Aquafina water bottle, that apparently fell out of the side pocket, slowly rolls across the classroom floor toward that growly voice.
Blinking, I stare at what might be the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. This can’t be the professor. I thought it was a woman. Jamie Knight… Professor Knight. My brain is already operating on slow motion, or maybe I’m in protection mode because why am I just sitting here like an idiot while my water bottle rolls and crackles as it makes its way toward him?
My eyes dart to the guy to my left who’s leaning back, smirking and shaking his head. I need to move, do something… anything, but instead I stare in misery as that god of a man squats down, his dark jeans hugging his thighs, and picks it up.
And I die.
I take in the full effect of him. He’s not only tall, but he’s also got thick, dark hair that seems to curl in only the perfect spots, like around his ears. A jawline that makes Brad Pitt’s look weak, and his eyes… his eyes have me frozen in place.
Deep blue, like an ocean, almost turquoise in color, I think. Oh fuck, he can’t be walking over to me… No.
“This is a perfect example as to why we are all in the situation we’re in.” He holds up my water bottle, stopping in front of me.
Dead. Just kill me now because whatever is happening is making me feverish and slightly lightheaded.
“As much as big corporate companies say they’re trying, the truth is… they’re not.” The room snickers as I look around—then my eyes dart back to him.
He stands, staring down at me, his full lips in a smirk as he holds out the dreaded bottle of Aquafina for me to take. And if I thought I was mortified before, I’ve now reached a new level of humiliation. How long has he been holding my bottle out to me?
“I’m so sorry.” I reach for it, only to gasp when our fingers touch, and an electric shock zaps us. The class laughs as Professor Knight frowns, his eyes narrowing on me.
“Name?” His voice… Jesus, am I sweating?
“Alexandrea,” I croak, bringing the water bottle to my chest as if that can protect me from this attraction I have to this man.
“Class starts at nine o’clock. If you can’t make it on time, and by that, I mean early, don’t bother continuing with this class. My office hours are at eight o’clock. If any of you need to meet with me, my door is always open.” His eyes hold mine, then shift as he looks around the classroom. The heat from his body almost burns into mine.
“How many of you, like Alexandrea, have a plastic water bottle in your backpacks?” He walks away, and I take a breath—I really am getting lightheaded. Looking down, I see my arms are covered in goose bumps. What is wrong with me? The way my name sounded on his lips, I’m almost shivering…
“You okay?” the guy to my right leans over, whispering.
Reaching down to heave my backpack onto the back of the chair, I nod.
“Hey, don’t let Dean Powers upset you.” I slowly turn to look at him. He’s cute enough. Blond hair with stylish black glasses. My eyes dart back to Professor Knight, wait, did he say Dean Powers?
“That’s not Professor Knight?” I whisper, motioning with my head as I bring out my laptop.
“Um, no.” He chuckles, moving closer to whisper, “Professor Knight is on maternity leave…” He freezes as the room is silent again.
No, please, just no. I close my eyes because I can’t look. I know the hot professor is staring at us. I can feel it.
The guy clears his voice and sits up straighter, when all I want to do is slide down the chair and dissolve into the floor. Again, snickers fill my ears. I bite my lower lip and stare back at my fellow students, their faces showing nothing but happiness at my pain. What the hell is happening?
Why? Why did this stupid guy talk to me? And why did I talk back? What was I thinking? I’m the good student in class. I listen, take notes… and I don’t chitchat.
Screw this, so the professor is rather distractingly gorgeous, and yes, I was a little late. But I’m still a person, and my tuition pays his salary… I plaster on what I’m hoping is a confident look, turning slightly so I can give him my undivided attention.
Blue fire stares back at me, and my pulse leaps to my throat. Holy shit, my pussy instantly throbs and is becoming wet. I shift uncomfortably.
He looks bored, kind of. I mean, his tone is, but his eyes… they go from me to the poor guy next to me, then back to me, and he speaks again.
“In this class, I will expect you to rethink things. Open your minds. You are the future. Fix our systems. Examples: production and consumption of food, air, energy…” I can’t look away. He’s mesmerizing as he leans against his desk, weaving a spell on us. Somehow, my fingers touch my keyboard, trying to keep up with his thoughts as they spill from his full lips.
Jesus, he’s not only beautiful, but he’s also brilliant. And for the first time in my life, I want something.
Him.
I want Dean Powers. I know it can’t happen… but what would it be like to have him want me back? Have that kind of intensity unleashed on me?
“Okay, that’s it for today.” I’m jolted out of my fantasy world and back to the reality of the classroom as everyone packs up.
“I’m Jordan.” The chitchat guy stands and smiles.
“I’m Alex.” I shove my laptop into my backpack as he waits to the side for me, students laughing and walking past.
