Chapter 10 Torin #2
I heard a saying, once, that the way someone kisses is similar to the way they fuck.
I can see why so many girls liked being with Noah, in that case.
That willing-to-please look in his eye he got when he put his tongue on my cock… I wanted to devour him. I wanted him to devour me.
Annoying.
Distracting.
Even the text I got from Noah last night made me feel odd, and after I got hard thinking about how needy the text was, I didn’t respond.
I didn’t know how to respond.
Noah’s not allowed to be needy with me, and he doesn’t have any right to say I “ditched him” when he made it clear that it was a one-time deal.
I don’t want needy people.
But I still liked the text.
A tendril of pride licked through me as I read it, like some monster inside me saying I fucking told you so.
He got one taste of my mouth… and my dick, and now he’s pissed that I didn’t tell him I was leaving this week.
When Mom and I finally make our way out to the outdoor bar, it’s clear that the prince has been saucing up for a while now.
Prince Vaughn’s auburn swoop of hair is falling in front of one of his eyes, and his gaze is droopy already.
Noah’s father looks red in the cheeks and jolly, and I’ve realized he’s a very happy drunk, which is at least one good thing about all of this. He reaches for my mother and the two of them get caught in a conversation with a few of the prince’s guests, and that leaves Vaughn alone with me.
I lean an arm onto the bar after pouring myself a glass of red wine.
“So have you been glad you’re here this week instead of at… what’s it called, Crimson College?” Vaughn asks me. “A bit restrictive to be on a college campus, isn’t it? Rules, classes, homework. Bleh.”
“I thought it would be that way, but it’s been fine,” I tell him.
He arches an eyebrow. “Fine? Fine isn’t fun.”
I take a draw from my wine glass. “It’s been plenty of fun, too.”
He takes a sip of wine that’s more like a chug. “You’ve been rooming with your stepbrother, yes? Noah?”
Something ping-pongs around in my chest as he mentions Noah.
Like a possessive urge lashing out in me even when the prince just speaks his name.
“Not rooming with him. But we’re in the same house.”
Vaughn hums, looking me up and down. “I see.”
I nod toward the rest of his guests, who are slowly filing over toward another area of the lawn. “I think they’re going to go into the yard soon for cigars, if you’re interested,” I tell him.
He fixes his gaze on me.
“How about we go upstairs and fuck instead?”
The reaction inside me is almost explosive.
Wouldn’t fuck you in a thousand years.
What am I, an expensive whore?
Normally, I’d relish an opportunity to give a heinous bastard like him the best fuck of his life, knowing he’d never have a cock this good again.
I’d love to make an impression.
To wrest control from someone who clearly thinks they’re in control, and to put him in his place.
But this man is repellent to me.
He’s not what I want.
“Funny,” I tell him. Wishing I could tell him something much worse.
He’s insistent, though. He steps forward, clutching at the front of my tie and using it to pull me toward him.
I can smell the wine on his breath. His lips curl upward into a devious smile, and the urge to spit in his face is rising.
No.
He doesn’t deserve my spit.
It’s like my dick is trying to turn inward now.
He’s so… not Noah.
Fuck.
I reach up and give him a firm push backward.
Vaughn drops my tie, blinking at me.
“You can’t take a cock?” he asks, and I realize he’s drunk enough that he may not even remember parts of this tomorrow.
“Not from you,” I tell him. “I can’t.”
He peers at me like he’s trying to calculate something. “Wait. You’re with someone else, aren’t you? Someone you’re loyal to? A girlfriend or boyfriend, back on campus?”
“No, I don’t have a partner,” I tell him in a harsh, clipped tone. “Never will.”
The rage rises in me a little too fast.
Judging by the way he recoils, that anger surprised him, too.
Not what I’m supposed to do.
Keep.
Calm.
It’s like I can practically see the millions of dollars floating away. The disappointment on Mom’s face when she realizes that Prince Vaughn won’t be donating even after this week of ridiculous courting.
The charity is doing well, but I know that this year’s projections aren’t on track.
But as I walk away from Vaughn back toward the house, I’m angrier at myself than I am at anyone else.
This isn’t me.
And I need to quit letting my cock think for itself, because it’s clearly fucking everything up.
I need freedom.
It’s what I’ve always craved above everything else.
And ever since this summer began, it’s felt like I’m taking steps further and further away from any semblance of the freedom I used to have.
I’ll never be tied down by the promise of anything.
Money.
Fame.
Love.
My stomach turns as I shove open one of the back doors of the house again, walking inside with a storm in my mind.
I want an escape hatch.
I want oblivion, right now, to be able to clear my mind and finally be done with the endless thoughts that plague me when I’m in this world.
Who’s wealthy, who’s not. Who can do something for the charity.
Who knows me from my stupid Instagram viral post and thinks I’m some commodity they can acquire.
I’m sick of it all.
I walk upstairs and down the long hallway, trying to avert my eyes from framed picture after framed picture of Noah.
But I can’t avoid it.
I push open the doors to a small sitting room near the end of the hall, and at first it seems like a quiet haven. But there’s a picture of Noah that’s even worse than all of the others, hanging in there.
He looks jaw-dropping in the photo.
In a suit, but with his top few buttons undone on his silk collared shirt.
It’s simple, just a picture of him on some gleaming rooftop, with endless city lights behind him. Noah Vancliff and his goddamn rooftops. There’s a beautiful girl at his side, and he has his arm draped around her as she smiles for the photo.
But he’s looking away.
Off into the distance, daydreaming about something else, like he often is.
What were you thinking of there, Noah?
I realize something slowly, and it takes me by surprise.
He’s not like them.
Noah isn’t like them at all.
He’s wealthy, and born into this world, and part of it. But there’s not a fraction of him that’s anything like the dickhead prince standing out on that lawn.
He’s different from his brothers and sisters, and his father, too.
For so long I assumed that Noah was defined by his money, but in reality, he defies definition completely.
He’s just… himself.
And I realize that I would rather be back there on campus, with him, than anywhere else right now.
Get the fuck out of my head, Vancliff.
Need to stay focused on shit that actually matters. My work. My studies. My own goddamn future that nobody can make happen other than me.
I ball my hands into fists, then let them go.
“Fuck this,” I say under my breath, tearing my eyes away from the picture.
I head back downstairs to do damage control with Prince Vaughn so I can finally fucking leave.