Chapter 4
Chapter 4
KINGSTON
I t’s been a long fucking day, waiting for this party tonight. No matter how many times I told myself to stop obsessing over what happened with the society last night, I couldn’t. Every girl was a victim of my scrutiny today… and I didn’t apologize to a single one of them.
“Five minutes, fucker!” I pound on the wall, letting Beau know to wrap shit up because I’m tired of dealing with the fucking unknown and need to find out who this damn girl is. If I had a conscience, I’d probably feel bad for the poor little damsel I’m about to ruin… but I don’t.
“You wearing that?” Beau strolls in, looking like he’s coming straight out of a Gucci commercial, even though I went for a more casual look tonight.
“I know these things can be a little dressy but fuck it. What will they do, kick me out? Hardly. I’m Kingston fucking Banks, and I bow to none of these people.” He smirks as I strut past him like I own the place and lead us down the hall, out of the frat and across the lawn to the sorority house that sits behind ours.
Beau and I arrived fashionably late as we typically do. Another party, this one themed the start of a new school year. Whoever comes up with these ideas has to lead a pathetic fuckin’ life. Haven’t they heard of event planners?
It appears the entire frat was invited as I glance around, taking in several of my brothers. Beau flashes me a look, silently saying, surprise, same fucking party as last year . Raising my brows, I offer a smirk in return. He’s right, this shit is regurgitated, but it’ll get many if not all our frat brothers laid tonight, so they’ll play along like good little puppets. “Drink?” He tilts his head toward the bar.
“Of course. Let’s have a few, or else I may set this place on fire just to give us something to do.”
He cracks a smile, used to me flying off the handle and stirring up a bit of trouble when I get too bored. “Come on, King. No burning the ladies’ house down. At least not tonight.”
We’re greeted by a different person with nearly every step we take. I’d eat the attention up if it weren’t a common occurrence. We may not actually be royalty, but we’re damn sure treated as if we are. “Anyone catch your eye yet?” I dig, eager for my friend to find someone to entertain us with tonight. We share occasionally, especially when we really want to ruin a chick for anyone else.
He scoffs, as bored as I’ve become. “I’ve fucked the only ones worth a damn.”
“Same. Let’s pour out all their booze and watch this sorority tank.”
He shakes his head but keeps walking.
“We could drug them and record them dancing naked. It’d make for optimal blackmail.”
“Fucked up,” he mutters, and I laugh outright.
“You know it’s a good idea.”
“Yeah, but you can’t say that shit aloud.” He offers a wicked grin, amused, as we make it to the first bar setup.
“Oh, look at this, gold and fake diamonds.” I gesture to the bar top decorations. “How original.”
“Beau and Kingston, is that you?”
Georgia from Georgia calls out as she approaches. I hold back the urge to roll my eyes and gesture to the cute little bartender to give me two glasses of their best liquor.
“You two are so damn fine. How do I get a piece of your pie?”
I snort. I can’t help it, and let’s be honest, I don’t even try to stop it. “Aren’t we supposed to be the ones saying that to you?”
“You so much as whisper the words, and I’ll take either one of you or both if I’m lucky enough.”
“Sorry, darlin’, today’s not your day. I’d end up poisoning you, and it’d piss your father off.”
She giggles like I’m joking. I’m not. I’d sedate the annoying bitch and move on with the night. She engages Beau in conversation, and he’s tolerating her, so I take it as the perfect opportunity to scope out the sorority sisters. My gaze flicks to every person wearing red, and fuck, if my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, I swear half of them are wearing the damn color.
This was probably done on purpose. Another test. Fuck.
Georgia giggles louder this time, leaning into Beau. She’s got her hand on his shirt, moving in for the kill. He may let her suck his cock, but I doubt it.
“You good, bro?” I check, ready to walk around and find my prey. Initiation is the only thing on my mind at the moment, so not even a good old-fashioned dick-sucking can sway me otherwise.
He nods. “You?”
“Yeah, I’m going to take a walk.”
“I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”
“Good luck,” I tease. Grabbing my drink, I eagerly make my way into the next room. I can only have one or two tonight. I have to be on my game when it comes to this mysterious woman. Getting sloppy will only fuck up my chances with whatever the society has planned, and there’s no way I believe my first order is going to be cut and dry, let alone simple.
The Brotherhood wants me to get close. Well, I’ll have this chick thinking I’m going to marry her ass if it means I gain the information I need. I get it now why this is my task. I’ve always been told I’m easy on the eyes, so naturally, a woman would want my attention and feel safe about confiding in me. I’m the son of a respectable businessman, a wealthy tycoon from the South, so I must be a good guy. I’m generally not, but very few people know as much since money has so nicely erased and buried my transgressions.
Everyone is the same—too much makeup, expertly styled hair, Botox, and overfilled faces with some lips reminding me more of fucking hot dogs. The poor are hooked on heroin with needles, and the rich are addicted to poking themselves with needles in the hopes of reaching perfection. No matter which side you’re on, life has its different illusions. One is to escape and disappear while the other is to suffocate on attention. I want neither. Only power.
Not it. Not it. Not it. Not it. Not it. Not it. I silently repeat with each woman I pass. I was a fucking idiot to think this would be easy. It’s not Valentine’s Day, for fuck’s sake. What’s wrong with these people? I’d have more luck in a wet T-shirt contest picking out a set of 34D tits than I will at this rate with a chick in a red dress.
From one room to the next, I move through everyone, repeating greetings but not really seeing any of them. After all, they mean nothing. “Kingston?” someone calls louder than the others, but I keep moving.
As I pass through, I swear I see one of the creepy masks in the window. The sight has me stalling and taking a step back to quickly look again. It’s gone. There’s no one there, and now I’m left wondering if I really saw the mask or not. Jesus… I must be seeing shit. “Paranoid much?” I mumble before I continue on. The last thing I need to do is draw extra attention if someone is there and then fuck up whatever they’re possibly doing.
Like a good soldier, I keep pushing forward, but now I’m taking in everything I can about my surroundings. I glance at each window I pass, the feeling of being watched prickling at my skin with every step.
If I am being watched right now, I want to know. The society shouldn’t be worried about me getting my task done because I will. It’s my top priority at the moment. Hell, the initiation has been on my mind for years, so I won’t fuck this up. Setting my glass on the next bar I come to, I gesture for a new drink. “Your most expensive. I don’t care what it is. Two fingers, chilled.” Just enough to make my goddamn thoughts calm down so I can focus on the task at hand again.
They get to pouring and shaking, then top off my glass. Raising the drink in thanks, I turn away and continue my stroll. The fifth step I take, I swear something comes out of nowhere, and I trip. I’ve never been clumsy in my life. I manage to hold onto my glass but not before my hand jerks forward in surprise, and the dark amber liquid sprays everywhere.
A soft shriek of surprise has me gaining my footing again and standing to my full height. Directly in front of me is a woman in a flowing red dress with my drink splashed down the front of it. Just great, this wasn’t part of the plan. I’ve ruined her sexy as fuck outfit and I don’t have time to deal with distractions. Following the trail of wetness upward, I take in her curvy hips, perfect breasts, and long blonde locks twisted in wavy curls. She’s a knockout.
Her chin lifts, and all the air seems to be sucked out of the room. Everything else falls silent and I swear we’re now moving in slow motion. My mouth drops, shock taking over every inch of my body. It can’t be her. The last person I’d ever expect to see here, let alone at this party, dressed as my mark. I have to be imagining things, yes… I’m fucking drunk out of my mind, that’s it. Except, I’ve had only one drink so far tonight, the other spilled. Fuck.
This can’t be happening.
It must be a mistake.
But it’s not.
I know deep in my gut, this is exactly what’s supposed to be.
“Iris?” I murmur, taking in the woman before me, wearing the same face as someone I once knew. Am I dreaming? Is it a nightmare?
This has to be a cruel trick being played on me. I obviously pissed off the wrong person, and now they’re getting some sort of sick satisfaction out of this being my first order of initiation. Or maybe I’m wrong, and this was set up because I know her. Perhaps they believe I’ll have a better chance of finding out what I need to because of our past relationship. Either way, this is wrong. How the fuck am I not going to tell Beau about this?
Utter fucking bullshit.
The real question is, how can I do what I need to without breaking her heart or mine in the process? The society wasn’t fucking around when they asked me how far I’d go. They had to throw Iris at me like I wasn’t already fucked-up enough by losing her the first time around. She was never anything more than a close friend, no matter how badly I wanted her to be more, but still. I’ve never stopped thinking of her, wondering how she was, what she was doing, who she was fucking. Because it certainly wasn’t me.
“Kingston?” she breathes my name in a surprised whisper. Somehow, I make my name out over everything else happening in the room, but we could be in the middle of a concert, and I’d still hear her above all else. The world is fuzzy for a few beats as the reality of my situation hits me, before it’s all speeding up in real-time, and I kick my ass into gear. Lurching forward, I pull her down the closest hallway away from prying eyes. “King? Is everything okay?”
I’m breathing heavily like some psychopath by the time I stop tugging her along. “It’s really you?” I ask, then tug her to my chest, wrapping my arms around her in an affectionate hug. Fuck, I’ve missed her. She still smells the same. I dip my nose into her hair and inhale. She hugs me back then pulls away, fanning her dress.
“Shit, I can’t believe that happened. Let’s find a bathroom.” She allows me to take her hand, leading her as I pop my head in different doorways. Finally, toward the end of the hall, I find an empty bathroom. “Come on, in here.” Flipping on the light, I close the door behind her. Taking her in, I’m dumbstruck at how unbelievably stunning she is. “I ruined your dress.” Not that I care about the too-tight little number that no one else should be privy to seeing, but it’s the first thing I manage to choke free.
She waves my comment off, smiling. “It’s fine. The dress showed up at my door this morning in a gift box with a giant bow. I have no idea who it could be from, so it’s no big deal.”
“Oh? Did it have a note with it?” I want to flood her with questions, but refrain. Clearly, it’s no coincidence, but I’m not in the position to point it out.
She shakes her head. “No, but it was my size, so I thought it was just a welcome gift or something of the sort, since I just moved in.”
Nodding, I agree. “Makes sense.” Total bullshit, but she buys it. Grabbing the hand towels, I wet them and begin pressing them all over her body, making her laugh.
“Kingston, it’s fine… really.”
“You’re wet, and there’s a dark splatter all over the dress. I have an idea, take it off, and I’ll give you my shirt. You’re a shrimp, so it’ll probably reach your knees. You’ll at least be dry until you go home.” I don’t want to stop touching her but having her in my clothes is the next best thing.
She grins and excitedly admits, “I pledged.”
“You what?” I must’ve heard her wrong. How is it I’m bored sideways one minute, and then this woman has my head spinning all over the place? Woman… she’s a woman now. Fuck. There’s no way I’m letting any of these motherfuckers near her, either. They’ll be warned the first chance I have to threaten them. ‘Stay the fuck away from Iris Kensington.’ Pledge or not, she’s mine… always has been and always will be.
“I’m a member here, I live upstairs.”
Right behind my house.
Holy. Shit. This is too good to be true.
Wait until Beau finds out about this. He’ll be pleased to hear she’s close to us again. The three of us grew up together thick as thieves until our friendship was snuffed out, and she was forced to move away. Her father’s a politician and didn’t want her getting involved with our devious acts so he basically locked her away so we couldn’t get a hold of her, let alone visit her. Otherwise, we’d have stuck together because there was no way in hell I’d have let her go once I was finally able to feel her the way I’d always dreamed of.
“Even better,” I smoothly reply, although my heart’s beating double-time. “You can wear my shirt upstairs and grab something else. I’ll walk with you to make sure no one bothers you.” Not true. I’ll walk through the crowd bare-chested with her in my shirt, and every fucker in the room will think I fucked her. She’ll move to the top of their lists, but they won’t touch her until I give the okay. I’ll seal her fate here and now before her college experience even begins.
Taken. I plan to make Iris Kensington feel me in her bones. She won’t even want to look another direction, let alone allow some dumbass to touch her. I’ll be the only one fucking her, anyone else will die.
“You’re still as sweet as you’ve always been. I’m glad to find out that hasn’t changed.” She flashes a tender smile, and shit, do I wish it were true. I’ll have to do whatever I can to make sure she doesn’t figure out the truth. I’m a fucking monster. Iris is the only person I don’t want tainted by my bullshit. I’ll protect her as much as I can, the same as I did before.
She offers her back. “Mind unzipping me?”
“Of course not.” In fact, I’ll fantasize about it later . Somehow, my big fingers manage to grip the tiny zipper, the fabric peeling away to expose her porcelain flesh as I lower it. Swallowing, I take in every inch as she removes her arms, and the dress falls to the floor. She’s stunning. A woman with her hips makes my mouth salivate in anticipation. I can already imagine how amazing she’ll look with my marks all over her flesh. I’d line her spine with love bites so anytime she’s not covering her back everyone will know I’ve been there. My eyes are drawn to the ink splayed down her arm, sending another wave of curiosity through my head.
I have to touch her.
She relaxes against my caress as soon as my fingertips land on her chilled shoulder. She instinctively turns to face me, her big brown eyes staring up at me while her teeth sink into her lower lip. She has to know she’s a fucking knockout.
Possessiveness boils over inside of me. I want the name of any man who’s ever had the pleasure of touching her so I can kill them in their sleep. No one is good enough for her, nor do they deserve her. Me included, although I’ll damn sure fucking try to be.
Her breasts will fill my palms perfectly. Her hips and thighs are built for riding, no doubt thanks to her horseback lessons. I wonder if she’s ever ridden a fat cock before. No, I don’t because I’ll go insane with jealousy if she has and possibly burn the fucking world down. “Did you change your mind about lending me your shirt?” she asks after a moment of me staring and taking in my fill.
Her question shakes me out of my momentary haze, and I offer my signature sexy smirk. It’s worked on every woman I’ve needed to charm in the past, and this one is extra special. You came here to do a job. Focus . I’ll get the information I need from her, but then I’ll keep her.
Forever.
“You can have it. I was a bit distracted.”
Her cheeks tint as a beautiful flush spreads up her neck. I can’t stop staring but manage to pause as I reach behind me, peeling my shirt over my head. “Wow, so you got buff, huh?” Her eyes blaze with heat as she stares at my six-pack. Buff is a strong overstatement. I’m in shape from rowing, but I’m not built like a football player or anything.
“Oh yeah.” I chuckle and flex my arms. If eye candy is her thing, she won’t have to mention it twice.
“Wow,” she whispers, reaching out to rub over my bicep. Her touch is electric, turning me on in no time. I want more.
“Rub me all over. Maybe I’ll give you a couple of wishes,” I tease. I used to always flirt with her when we were younger. I was sixteen and determined to make her see me as more than a friend. She moved shortly after, so my plans quickly shriveled up and died a cold, miserable death.
Her blush darkens as she realizes she’s rubbing me and jumps away. “God, I’m so sorry. It was just there, and I couldn’t help it,” she rationalizes with a giggle.
She’s so fucking cute I could eat her.
Out.
Extending the shirt to her, she quickly grabs it and puts her head inside. It gets shifted around, and as she struggles, I can’t help but smile like a madman and reach in to help her. Pulling down the material, my knuckles skim her silky flesh, relishing each brush I’m blessed with. My cock has been at half-mast from the moment I checked out her wet material-clad body, and don’t get me started on her scent. Then there’s everything else about her too—the woman is a twenty in a college full of tens.
“I don’t mind. Feel free to touch them anytime,” I mutter, tugging the shirt to bring her in closer. My chin tips down as I stand over her; Iris’ sultry gaze puts me in a trance once again. I can still read her like I could back in the day. She has a million thoughts running through her mind right now. Every piece of me wants to lean in and take her mouth with mine, to own her, but I can’t royally screw this up by rushing. I want to fuck her here and now, I crave it, but it’ll only ruin everything, so I release the shirt and step away.
Reaching for the door, I twist the handle and open it, then glance back. “Ready to do this?” The question has more than one meaning, but I only care whether she’s ready to let me in her life because that’s exactly where this thing between us is headed.
She nods and dips under my arm, waiting for me in the hallway. Good girl. I don’t say it aloud, but I want to. My hand rests on her lower back as I flash her a tender look. “Lead the way, gorgeous. I need to know where you’re sleeping so I can come over to harass you and sleep in your bed.” As well as keep tabs on you and eventually go through all of your belongings . After all, I have a task I’m not planning to fail.
“I’m not sure you’d fit.” She laughs. Fuck, it should be impossible, but I swear her smile makes her even more addictive. Corny? Probably, but I don’t give a shit. It’s the truth.
“Oh, we’d make it fit,” I mutter, relishing how her eyes widen. We quiet our banter as we head back out to the party, passing by some of my frat brothers and Iris’ sorority sisters, amongst other students milling around. They take in her state of dress and my lack of it, various mouths dropping open in our wake.
See here’s the thing, she’s new and hasn’t fucked anyone. I’d have heard of her if she had because there’s no way any idiot could keep this conquest to himself. As for me, I fuck. A lot. However, you never see a woman doing a walk of shame outside my room, and you never hear about it. You may catch a rumor in passing about how I have a huge dick and had various women suck it, but you’ll never catch me in the act or bragging about it. The only person telling anyone they fucked someone, is them, and it’ll stay that way.
Iris, on the other hand, I want every single person on campus to know whose shirt she’s wearing tonight. I’ll scream it from the fucking rooftops if I need to.