Broken Princess (Van der Borne University Book 2) Page 8

  “You won’t?”

  After meeting her parents, I understand her better and I know she doesn’t do half the things I thought she was doing. She parties. Hard. But she’s also immersing herself in this illicit culture, and reporting student behavior back to her parents. They’re trying to develop a program to hook the spring break crowds.

  While I’m getting ready, I mentally check off the notes I made in my book. Looks like I’m crushing all three goals tonight.

  Logan

  I can’t explain the emotions going through me when Jordanna crosses the threshold of the cathedral. She’s dismissing my warning and taunting me by being here with her tight jeans and perfectly perky tits. I’m trying to ignore her, but her laugh is distinct. Or I’m just so in tune to it that I can pick it out, even buried under the din of the music and voices around me.

  Tabitha pulls my beer from my hand and takes a drink. “Are you gonna go over there and talk to her or just stare at her all night?”

  I watch as Zathan, one of my high school classmates, walks over to Jordy with a flask in his hand. She accepts it without questioning what’s in it and puts it to her lips. He takes it back, following with a hearty swig of his own, and slips his arm around her, pulling her towards the floor. They’re dancing close. Too close.

  She looks comfortable and her guard is down. That’s dangerous considering the mood I’m in, and the fact that Bella’s still out for blood. Locking eyes with Zathan, I tilt my head towards the right. His eyes light up, and he gives a slight nod.

  I slip through the room, heading towards the tower doors. He’ll be ushering Jordanna up these very stairs shortly. I never talked to her about The Rift, because I didn’t want her to know just how depraved things on campus can be. How dark I can be. Tonight, I’ll finally exorcise her from my system while showing everyone that she doesn’t mean shit to me.

  Grunts and slapping flesh greet me as I step through the door at the top of the staircase. Zathan and Jordy are a few paces behind me. I plucked a random girl from the crowd on my way up here. She doesn’t complain when I drag her with me towards the middle of the parapet. We’re bathed in just enough moonlight for spectators to see what’s about to happen. I’m in position when they step through the door. From where I’m standing I can see Jordy’s eyes pop around, too nervous to settle on any one couple for too long. That’s fine. I only want her eyes on me. I shove the girl to her knees.

  “Touch me.” The harsh command carries over to where Jordanna is standing.

  Her eyes widen when she finds me, but I ignore her, giving all my attention to the girl in front of me. “I won’t repeat myself.” I warn.

  She’s a good girl. Obedient to her king, quickly pulling my cock from my pants, testing the weight of it in her hands. With her eyes on me, she tugs, not giving a damn that people are around. I’m hard right away, but it’s not because of her. It’s because of the woman directly across from me. Our eyes lock together, and all I can remember is the feel of Jordanna’s hand and mouth around me.

  She’s ruining this. Damn her. I shove the nameless, faceless girl away, stroking my length. I wanted Jordanna to see someone else suck me off, but now I can’t stand the feeling of anyone else’s hands on me. Still, I use the girl as a prop. Gripping my shaft, I rub my hand up and down my length. “When I cum, I’m gonna practice my aim. I wanna see if you can catch it in your mouth. Kay?”

  She nods, eyes hooded, her hands between her legs as she watches me jack off. I rub my hand over her head, and she leans into it as if I’m her lover. It’s really Jordy that I’m performing for. It’s her that’s got me this hard. This hot. This angry.

  I’m fisting the girl’s hair. My eyes close, imaging that I’m punishing Jordy’s mouth. I imagine the scrape of her teeth as I push so far down her throat that she can’t breathe. I picture her choking on it, wanting to hurt her for being up here with Zathan, even though I gave him the nod to bring her.

  I want to punish her for being so damn trusting that she listened and so interested that she followed. My eyes pop open, focusing on my ex again, and I know she can see my thoughts. Fuck you, Jordanna. Fuck you. She scrambles towards the door, having seen enough. I close my eyes, coating the girl’s face. I don’t know if she catches any of it, or if she spits or swallows, and I don’t give a shit. As soon as I’m done, I tuck myself into my pants, storming past Zathan, who stayed to watch the final moments of the show. He can use the girl with my cum dripping down her face to take care of the bulge in his pants. Because he won’t be fucking Jordanna tonight.

  * * *

  She’s moving fast and by the time I catch up with her, she’s almost to the path that leads back to the main side of campus.

  “Jordanna. Wait.”

  “Don’t touch me.”

  She backs away, when I reach for her again. “I said don’t fucking touch me.”

  “Not too long ago, you were begging me to touch you. All over, if I remember correctly.”

  “That’s all you ever think about, isn’t it? Sex.”

  “Sex is a perfectly natural act. I could’ve sworn I fucked that truth into you.”

  “Is that what sex in the open with everyone watching is to you? Perfectly natural?” She takes another step away from me and I resist the urge to snatch her closer. “You had Zathan bring me up to the tower, didn’t you?”

  I didn’t think she’d figure out my play so quickly, but it’s good that she’s learning to look beyond her immediate surroundings. “Did you like it? Did it make you wet seeing another woman on her knees in front of me? Ready to do anything and everything I ask? Giving me what I need?”

  “Oh, sure. I think I picked up some pointers for the next guy I get on my knees for.”

  I move fast, gripping her arms, pulling her close. “It’s never gonna happen. Not as long as you’re at this school, not after either, if I decide to exercise my reach beyond these walls.”

  “What difference does it make who I fuck? As you’ve proven to the entire school, I mean nothing to you.”

  Skating the edge of control, I pull her towards a thicket of trees, shoving her against the closest one. Burning fury runs through my veins. Keep it together, Logan.

  Steadying my breathing, I force myself to moderate the edge in my voice. “That’s true. I don’t want you, but the memory of my touch, my taste, my cock is all you’ll have getting you off at night.”

  I take in her face, skimming my gaze down her body. “Tell me something, sweet Jordy. Have you been touching yourself, thinking about me since the last time I had you? Is that why you’re rushing off now? Are you running back to your dorm to slip your fingers inside you and pretend they’re mine?”

  “Get myself off to memories of you?” Her hollow laugh echoes through me. “Your face is the last thing that gets me in the mood.”

  “Is that the truth? Or will I find you soaking wet if I put my hands between your legs, again?”

  Placing her hand against my chest, she warns, “Don’t even think about touching me.”

  I’ve thought about it. Every night for the past two weeks. I grip her ass to show her, her words mean shit to me, then move my hand around to the front, gripping her pussy. “Or what? You’ll drip all over me? Is that what you want? To ride my fingers? Or do you want to sit on my face?”

  I’m getting hard again, thinking about it. “How about I turn you around and claim the one hole I haven’t had yet? How about that, Jordy?” I spin her to face the tree. “I can give you another first. Me finally taking this sweet ass.”

  “Get off of me!”

  I reach in front of her, flicking the button of her jeans open, slipping my hand inside. She’s wet, like I knew she’d be. God, she’s so ready for me. I rub her clit, pressing the bulge in my pants against her ass.

  “Logan, stop.”

  “Stop? Do you really want me to? Have you forgotten how good I can make you feel? Tell me, baby, should I stop or make you feel good?”

  “Logan�
�” She gasps, rocking her hips towards my fingers. She wants this. She craves this. Even if she doesn’t realize it.

  “I could take you up against this tree right now and you wouldn’t care who sees, because your cunt is so needy for me.”

  What I don’t say is that I need her just as badly. I’m so hard, I expect to rip a hole through the crotch of my jeans any minute now. I undo my button and lower my zipper, giving myself room. My hands go to the waist of her jeans next, lowering them just an inch. My left thumb toys with the cleft above her ass.

  “Please, Logan. Don’t.”

  My right hand goes back to playing with her clit, letting my middle finger dip in and out of her wet channel. “Then answer me. Do you touch yourself thinking about me? Do you call my name on broken sobs in the middle of the night as you bring yourself pleasure?” I ask grinding against her ass. I’m leaking just thinking about it.

  “I said, no!”

  The strength of her denial, the conviction in her voice, stings as if she struck me. Bastard that I am, I love the struggle, but I’d never force anyone to do anything they didn’t want. She wiggles away, fixing her clothes, and grabs her phone from where it fell in the grass. I watch her take off towards the road that leads to the dorms.

  “Fuck!” I’d only meant to make things uncomfortable for her, now I’ve got a raging hard on. My mind tells me there’s a lot of willing pussy back at The Rift, but my body rejects the thought. Jordanna might not be going to the dorms to touch herself while thinking about me and how good it was between us, but that’s exactly what I'll be doing before the night is over.

  Nine

  Jordanna

  I spend more time in the shower than usual. Thankfully, Kassidy will be out for a few more hours. I was telling the truth when I said I haven’t touched myself thinking about Logan. It’s kind of hard to get in the mood over the guy who torments me in my waking life and my dreams. But tonight, my body is on fire. Watching him was the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. And even though it was wrong, and I felt dirty watching him, I couldn’t look away. Then, when I finally dragged myself from his spell, I ran.

  Why’d he have to follow and say those things while touching me? Squeezing my eyes shut, I let the water beat down my body, struggling to get my emotions under control, and tamp down the arousal I feel.

  I know it’s wrong to want him after everything he did, and I meant what I said about not thinking about him, but tonight I’m seconds away from slipping my hands between my legs. My body shakes from the effort it’s taking not to touch myself.

  I force myself to remember the sound of Bella laughing at me, and conjure up visions of the sculpture, the pictures, the looks of horror on everyone’s faces. I embrace the pain I felt when Bella mocked me, saying my relationship with Logan was built on a lie, and I feel the betrayal once again when I think of Logan cruelly admitting that I meant nothing to him.

  Those memories slice through me, reopening the jagged cuts that have only just begun to heal. I don’t mind bleeding today. It’s a safer alternative than succumbing to my body’s demand to be satisfied. I let the memories come and for once there are no tears. My hand ghosts over my tattoo, drawing strength from the ink on my body. I’ll need it for what comes next.

  I walk into the cafe alone and order my coffee and bagel before finding a table in the corner at the back of the shop. It’s still part of the larger seating area, but secluded enough that you can tell the people sitting here don’t want to be disturbed.

  Bold opening moves. That’s what Pepper said, and this is mine. I smear the butter, cream cheese, and jelly on my bagel, pretending not to notice the customers staring. This is the first time I’ve come here alone since the semester started, and even when Kassidy and I come here before class, we don’t stick around to eat. I spread my sketchbooks on the table and flip through one, as if lost in thought. The bell chimes and from the chatter I surmise the BP’s have just walked in. Good. They’re right on time. I ignore them and the daggers I feel boring into the side of my head.

  Five minutes after they show, there’s another round of chatter. I look up, in time to see Noel cutting the line to grab his order. He stops in the middle of the space, looking around. I smile and wave when he spots me. He takes time to speak to people as he makes his way over to me. Instead of sitting across from me, he slides his chair close. Peeking over his shoulder, I see we’re being watched.

  “Ignore them.” He says, pointing to the sketchbook in my hand. “Is this the stuff you worked on over the break?”

  I pass it over, trying to ignore the peanut gallery, like he said. “I have to warn you, it’s pretty dark.”

  “That means you were being expressive, which is good, because it shows you weren’t holding back.”

  Propping my chin in my hand, I consider his words. “Maybe I should have.”

  He pulls my hand away from my mouth, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “No. You should never feel like you have to be anything other than who you are in the exact moment and space you’re in.”

  “I was such a disaster last semester with my painting.”

  “And I watched you conquer that. Your work for the art symposium and auction was amazing. I’m just sorry you didn’t win.”

  “It wasn’t all bad. Someone loved the painting.”

  “I heard.” When I raise a brow, he explains. “I know the purchases are anonymous, but because I’m Grace’s TA, I know which student’s work was the most well received. She likes to make a list and be on the lookout for new talent to foster in each of her classes. It helps her guide their submissions.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to interact with her in person.”

  “Me too, but there’s always next year.”

  I haven’t thought beyond this year. And once I take down Logan and his crew, there won’t be any reason for me to come back here as a senior.

  Noel closes the book he’s holding and reaches for another, giving me suggestions on what he thinks I could do to incorporate more use of shadow and light in my work so my sketches will have more of a 3D feel. I giggle when he mentions puff paint.

  “I’m serious. Some people are tactile art lovers. You could do a series with puff paint entwined with your acrylics or watercolors. Just try a myriad of things and create your own unique signature.”

  “Like Logan’s sculpture.”

  “Not quite that ambitious, but yes.” He taps my chest above my heart. “Push a little harder. I know there’s more in there, and I can’t wait to see it.”

  We talk a little more and when I’m done with my coffee he says, “Ready to go have some fun?”

  I nod, waiting for him to move his chair so I can get out of mine. He helps me with my coat, and I wrap my scarf around my neck as he scoops my sketch pads up from the table. “After you,” he says, his hand resting on my lower back as he guides me to the door.

  Kassidy sent me a text saying she’s spending an extra day in The Hollows, on a shopping trip with her mother, because her professor cancelled class tomorrow. That means I have the television to myself and can stand under the hot water for as long as I want. I took a yoga class yesterday, and delayed muscled soreness is setting in. I need the steam and heat so I’ll be able to walk tomorrow without looking like I have a stick stuck up my ass. And because I’m enjoying this moment of pampering so much, I deep condition my hair.

  I shut off the water when my fingers start pruning. Stepping onto the bathmat, I swipe the excess water off my feet before walking over the tiled floor to my bedroom, absentmindedly grabbing my towel off the back of the door. I’m humming to myself as I step into my room, pulling the corners of the towel around me. I startle and drop one end when I notice I’m not alone.

  Logan’s sitting on my bed, flipping through the pictures I plan on sorting through this evening. “How the hell did you get in here?”

  “I can get into any building or room any time I want to. This is my school, Jordy.”

  “This i
s my room, and I didn’t invite you in, so get out.”

  He’s staring at a spot on my left. I lift the towel, pulling it tighter around me.

  “Is that a tat?”

  The slip of the towel was so quick. How could he have seen it?

  “I asked you a question.” He stands, moving towards me. “Is that a tattoo?”

  The Arabic quote is on my left rib cage. The ink says I suffered, I learned, I changed. I got it and a nose piercing, when I was on the island with Kassidy, to remind me I am bigger and stronger than the things that have happened. Who is he to question what I do with my body? Squaring my shoulders, I answer his question with one of my own. “So, what if it is?”

  “Let me see.”

  “You expect me to take my towel off?” I suck my teeth, and with an exaggerated eye roll, say, “That’s never gonna happen.”

  “You can show me, by peeling off that towel like a stripper, or I can come over there and reveal it myself. Either way, I’m not leaving until I see it.”

  The ends of the towel come together on the side. When he reaches for it, I fist both ends in one hand, holding it closed. If he pulls it open, my thigh and half of my ass cheek will be exposed. Putting a permanent reminder close to my heart, seemed fitting. But it’s for me, and I’m not cowering to his demand.

  “I told you to get out of my room.”

  “That sounds like a threat. Get out. Or what?”

  “Or I’ll be the narc you and your gang already accuse me of being. How do you think the dean will react if I say you’re harassing me? I know you got a slap on the wrist, but I don’t imagine the two of you are on good terms. If I file a complaint, will daddy be able to pay your way out of this?”

  “Careful what you’re threatening, Jordanna,” he says stepping closer.