Rule, page 4
“It’s not my fault—”
And that’s it.
Done.
I grab the back of her ponytail and pull it tight as she whimpers and then I crush my mouth on hers.
Hard.
Punishing.
This is wrong on so many levels, yet my tongue takes hers, and I tighten my hold on her hair. Primal lust pumps through my veins. Her body shudders and submits, giving me exactly what I need. My tongue takes and takes, and I swallow her candy taste and smell her fucking scent…
“Everything all right out here?” A loud voice makes me break away, both of us panting as I try not to attack some man who’s only trying to help.
“We’re fine.” I hold up a hand, stopping him from coming closer. Trying to catch my breath, I force my brain to work.
“You okay, young lady?” The man’s voice makes me turn to look at him. He’s older, maybe sixty, wearing a white apron, his concerned eyes focused on Alex, then me.
“Yes.” She nods, her hands still holding on to my forearms.
The man squints at me, then motions with his head. “You need to move that scooter. It’s gonna get run over. And take that business”—he gestures at us—“somewhere private.” He shakes his head and turns, walking back toward the fish market.
“Fuck.” I remove her hands, and they fall limply to her sides. Her lips are swollen and red from my aggressive kiss. I need to back away. If I don’t, I’m going to fuck her against this brick wall.
“Alex, this can’t happen.” I state, moving toward the scooter and backpack laying in the middle of the entrance where Alex dumped them.
“I’ll call you a cab. I can’t take you home on my bike—”
“No.” Her voice sounds loud and high-pitched. “I can call an Uber. I want to.” She shakes her head, reaching for her backpack. As she sits down on a concrete slab, her back to the ocean and PCH, she types on her phone.
“Goddammit.” I hesitate, and I never hesitate. I always know what I want and what I’m doing.
Get your head on right, Brett. Grabbing the scooter, I walk it over to the end of the parking lot, popping the kickstand out as I watch it shut off. I turn back to Alex, who still sits on the concrete. I want to pull her on my lap, kiss her, pet her… Goddammit. This will end badly. Nothing good can come from it.
“Look at me.” My voice sounds harsh to my own ears.
When she jerks her head up, her big emerald eyes lock with mine. I almost adjust myself because what I see in hers… is everything a man like me should never be teased with.
We’re kindred souls with the same needs.
I don’t trust myself.
I’m fighting not to break every rule and take her back to my place. Blow off the fundraiser and fuck until this insane attraction is sated.
“Drop the class, Alexandrea.” I force myself to break eye contact and walk toward my bike.
I hear her snort, and she calls out to me, “Thanks for everything. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine…” Her sassy mouth makes me turn because I just saved her. Eyes narrowing, I watch her as she looks over at the silver car pulling into the parking lot.
“Look, I’m sorry. My Uber is here,” she snaps, biting her bottom lip as she waves at the idiot in the Toyota Camry smiling away. Irrational jealousy spikes through me, and all I can hear is my teeth grinding.
Walk away, Brett. This one is bad news. Instead, I grab the door before she can shut it and lean down, glaring at the Uber driver who looks at me through the rearview mirror.
“Drop the class, Alexandrea.” I straighten.
She reaches over and violently slams the door on me. I back up and watch her mouth something to the driver as my fist opens and closes.
I’ve always been competitive, but never a jealous man. So this feeling that I’d like to beat the shit out of the driver’s smiling face solely because he’s pulling away with her is unacceptable.
Unacceptable.
“Fuck this.” I walk to my bike and start it up, not caring that I’m playing Russian roulette with oncoming traffic. My mind purposely ignores her scent, which clings to my jacket, and the pineapple taste of her mouth as I zigzag back into my lane and head toward my house.
I’ll change into a suit and get completely smashed so that everything that happened today will be gone tomorrow.
Tonight, I’ll be charming. I’ll laugh and shake hands with all the arrogant pricks pretending to wish me well. Then I’ll find a willing woman and let her erase all visions of red lips, dark hair, and a pair of emerald eyes.
ALEXANDREA
I sit back as Lucas, my Uber driver, seems happy carrying on a conversation with himself. Me? I’m silently freaking the fuck out.
“Oh God,” I groan, my elbow resting on the window.
Numb. I’m numb because not only did I almost die, but I just had a kiss that… I don’t even know how to describe it.
Savage.
Consuming.
Screw that, addictive is the only way I can even try to sort through these feelings making my stomach twist and flip. My lips almost throb as if he’s branded me.
What am I going to do? He wants me to drop the class. Strike that, he demanded I leave, permanently.
Closing my eyes, I barely register that Lucas is still talking. My hand drops to my abdomen as I do my best not to scream, Shut up. I need quiet in here to think! It’s not this guy’s fault that my life is spiraling out of control.
“This is so bad,” I whisper as I sit up to gaze out the window, barely admiring the ocean and its majestic waves flowing in and out. All I see is him.
Full lips as they slammed down on mine. His hands jerking my hair back… Jesus, it was like my whole body became his. Had that man not come out of the fish market…
“So anyway, if you ever want to laugh, I can get you a ticket. Just let me know. Here.” Lucas’s annoying hand appears in front of my face with a purple card.
Blinking, I pull back to let my eyes focus, realizing I’m home, or at least at Skylar’s home.
“Oh, thanks.” I try to smile, but my lips seem to still be tingling. Grabbing the business card he dangles in front of me, I force myself to read it.
Lucas Davis
Actor!
Comedian!!
Chauffeur extraordinaire!!!
818-442-8596
“Actually, I’m at the Comedy Store this Thursday night. Not headlining, but I’m still there. You should check it out. Are you twenty-one?” I don’t even get a chance to respond when he continues, “I mean, if you’re not, it’s okay, but it’s always more fun if you can drink, and there is a two-drink minimum.”
“I’m not, but I have a fake ID.” Why would I tell him that? What if he’s a narc? I finish giving him a tip on my phone and swing the car door open, dragging my stuffed backpack out. I must go through it tonight, or I’ll throw out my back—I already feel lopsided. But first, I need a cold shower because it feels as though a fever’s burning through me. God, I feel raw, vulnerable, and yeah, the whole scooter fiasco was awful. But I can recover from that. Kissing Dean Powers, though? I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same.
“That’s cool.” Lucas’s voice interrupts my sphere again, and I almost start laughing.
A narc? Really, Alex? This guy literally looks like a wannabe Tom Holland.
“I’ll try to stop by,” I say, hoping that makes him drive away. As I walk up the small sidewalk, it’s the first time I’m grateful for the neighbor’s dog barking nonstop at me. Lucas is still talking, but the dog drowns it out. I turn to wave, then dart inside, leaning my back against the door as my backpack hits the hardwood floor.
“Nightmare.” I bring my fingers to my lips as my mind replays the way he tasted like chocolate, maybe even a cappuccino? And his smell… like fresh, not cologne, but clean with a slight spice. I push off the door and walk down the small hallway toward the bathroom. Music spills out from under Skylar’s door. God, she’s blasting Miley Cyrus’s “Flowers” again. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a toe tapper, but she’s been playing that song over and over for the past week.
“Jesus.” I roll my eyes, happy she’s not locked in the bathroom as I sneak in and lock the door. Kicking off my white Converse, I quickly strip off all my clothes and almost scream as the cold water stings me. Instantly, I turn on the hot water and lean my back against the cool tile as I wait for it to warm.
“What should I do?” I close my eyes and try to breathe. Might as well give up trying to fight this. My pussy is literally a gooey mess. Reaching for my wet breasts, I swallow a groan as I pinch my hard nipples. My eyes close, and I see his ocean-blue eyes staring at me as his hand grabs the back of my hair, snarling for me to open my legs.
“Fuck,” I hiss as my middle finger rubs my swollen clit back and forth. I’m so achy and wet, and all I want is… him. My eyes dart open. Focusing on the steam as the hot water dances near my toes, I rub my clit hard, already climbing.
“Yes,” I whimper as I go over, orgasming on my finger, my pussy pulsing as I open my eyes and try to get ahold of my breathing. Beforehand, I didn’t have a face to think about, but now… now, I have Dean Powers, the most unattainable man I could ever think about having.
He’s your professor, the freaking dean. I’m not positive on this, because we’re both adults, but I have to think it’s against the rules to have any type of relationship with a professor… And then there’s the whole “he wants me out of his class” thing. Maybe he wants me to drop the class because he’s actually interested. That kiss was amazing.
“Right, Alex, I’m sure that’s it,” I hiss, grabbing my shower gel and quickly washing myself. You have to get Dean Powers out of your head. After a deep, cleansing breath, I let the steam and my coconut shower gel soothe me because there’s no way in hell I’ll ever forget him.
My twin has basically been my personal bodyguard, which is absurd since he’s been having sex for at least three years. Complete double standard for me. Not that I was all that interested in any of the high school guys back home, but Jude would never have allowed it. He got suspended our senior year for fighting with one of his buddies after the guy asked me to a dance. Thankfully, he was the star quarterback in the state, so it was only for a day.
And I love him for wanting to always be there for me, wanting to defend my honor. But come on, I’m almost nineteen. Yet another reason I wanted go out of state. Because no matter who I pick, he’ll always think I deserve better. So, basically, I’d die a virgin.
“Poor Jude.” I bite my bottom lip as I turn off the faucet. If he knew what happened today, how I had a life-changing kiss with my professor…
Absently, I dry myself, nicely fold the towel as I grab my pink silk robe, and peek out the door. Hmm, Miley Cyrus is not playing anymore. I wonder if I could be lucky enough to find that Skylar is gone.
I tiptoe out, then roll my eyes because this is stupid. I live here, at least for the time being. I need to get a lot of reading done. Maybe I’ll order a pizza. That way I can have it for dinner and have the rest for breakfast tomorrow. My mind is already going over the massive amount of work I need to get done. I intend to earn straight A’s. Heaving my monstrosity of a backpack onto my bed, it strikes me that the one thing I could really work on is being more organized. I feel like I never want to throw anything away in case I need it later. Unfortunately, all it does is create a massive amount of disorganization, but hey, no one’s perfect.
I grab my philosophy textbook and sit on the bed. Reaching for my phone to order a pizza, I wonder if I should see if my sister is actually home and might want a slice. The house is quiet, though, and something tells me she won’t. I lean back and contemplate whether I want extra cheese on my pie, locking all thoughts of my hot professor away.
BRETT
“We’d love to have you over for dinner,” Mrs. Coolidge coos at me, her hand remaining on my forearm. Her husband stands to her right, laughing with Phil Datson, one of the professors of the Economics Department. The Coolidges are generous donors, so I smile at her—even when her eyes narrow on my lips—then lean back in my chair, bringing my arm with me.
“Actually, how about next week?” Mrs. Coolidge tries again, but fucking other men’s wives is not my thing, even if they don’t care. Well, besides Misty, but we have an arrangement, so I make an exception for her.
“I’m going to get another whiskey. Can I get you anything?” With a smirk, I stand and glance around the lavish hotel banquet room, absently thinking if we spent less time spending money on wining and dining our donors, maybe we wouldn’t need as much money in the first place.
“I’d love another martini.” She licks her fat lips and juts her fake tits out, making my eyes dip to them.
Why do women feel the need to do this to themselves? “Gin or vodka?” I say as my mind drifts to a pair of bee-stung lips that are all natural and taste like sweet pineapple.
“Gin…” Again, she runs a tongue across her bottom lip. I know she thinks it’s enticing, but all I can think of is that she somewhat resembles a lizard. Christ, I should cut myself off. I’m turning mean.
I nod, having zero intention of returning to this table, and make my way to the lavish bar.
“I’ll take a Basil Hayden straight up.” I lean on the bar as the pretty bartender grins and turns for the bottle.
“Make that two.” A woman rubs her chest on my back and glides around next to me.
I raise a brow at her as she rests her elbow on the bar.
“Sorry, I tripped,” Skylar yells over the crappy sound of the music, which sounds muffled amid the loud conversations surrounding us.
“Having fun?” She smiles, her white teeth almost gleaming in the darkening room. They’ve turned the lights down to give it a trendy vibe, I’m assuming. Which is stupid. All we need is one of our decrepit old donors to faceplant…
“Loads.” I straighten as the bartender places the two whiskeys in front of me, and I toss her a twenty.
“Thank you.” I look down at Skylar, and her big blue eyes blink up at me. I should walk away, but to be honest, she’s here, she’s willing, and my cock needs a release.
“Drink up, and let’s get the fuck out of here.” I hand her the whiskey.
“Absolutely. To us.” She clinks my glass, and I frown, almost telling her not to talk. Instead, I shoot the whiskey, letting the burn distract me. Christ, is there anyone else? My eyes trail around the room. Everyone’s blurring together.
“My place?”
She shimmies close to me as her tits touch my chest. I should say no. I’m gonna regret this tomorrow. Instead, I grin and say, “Why not?” I can always have her blow me if she tries to talk too much. That, and I can leave when I’m done. If I have her come back to my place, I’ll have to kick her ass out after I come, and that just breeds hostility.
She reaches for her small clutch. Resting my hand on the base of her back, I escort her through the masses.
“You two have fun.” Belinda, a colleague, laughs and waves as we pass. Skylar smiles, snuggling closer. Again, this all should make me turn and get my own cab, but I already jerked off in the shower to a pair of green eyes and long legs. The thought of going home alone and doing that again is like acknowledging that I’m borderline obsessed with Alexandrea, and that can’t be true.
So Skylar it is. She’s not perfect, but at least she’ll distract me. You get what you get and don’t get upset. Christ, I really am drunk.
“I’m gonna rock your world tonight.” Skylar’s voice brings me back to the now, and the fact that a valet has the door to a cab open.
“Thanks, man.” I nod at the kid, who looks about as bored as I am.
“Have a good night.” He slams the door after I slide in and lean back.
Skylar gives the driver her address. “Brett?” She slithers closer to me as she whispers, “Did you hear me?”
“Hear what?” I almost turn away, but force myself to focus on her since she’s coming in slightly blurry.
“I said I’m gonna rock your world,” she murmurs, her hand resting awkwardly on my leg. Christ, this was why I broke it off. We have zero chemistry. And now she’s talking dirty?
“Look, Skylar—” Even with the massive amount of alcohol I’ve consumed tonight, my brain is blasting get out like a foghorn on a cloudy day.
“Shh.” She places a finger on my lips.
I cock my head at her as the lights from other cars and the moon filter into the cab. “This might not be a good idea—”
“Come on, Brett. One drink… please.” She moves closer, leaning into me as the cab driver clears his throat.
“Hey,” the cab driver says, his voice scratchy. “Not trying to listen or anything, but we’re here.”
“Thank you.” She shoves a fifty at him, then slides out.
I look expectantly at the driver who’s wearing a baseball cap backward and a smirk on his face.
“Can’t, man.” He shakes his head at me. “My shift is done.” Well, I guess that’s the universe’s way of telling me I should fuck Skylar.
“Have a good night.” I kick open the door and almost start laughing because I’m seriously hammered. I’d have to be to let Skylar’s cold hands pull me toward the door.
“Are you hungry?” She smiles, batting her eyes up at me as she pushes the door open, and I reach for her, dipping my nose into her neck as she gasps and moans loudly.
“I see you are hungry…” She giggles.
“Don’t talk,” I growl, walking inside and slamming the door. Then I freeze because I smell… Jesus, it’s the scent I’ve been craving all night.
Warm coconut, maybe even vanilla, infiltrates my rather numb brain, and I pull Skylar closer to breathe in her scent again. Wait, this is not right. She’s not coconut; that’s floral perfume.
“Brett.” She giggles loudly, sashaying backward, motioning for me to follow as I strip off my suit jacket. Christ, I’m like a dog smelling a bitch in heat, literally inhaling the air as if that can direct me to my destination.
