Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ella
Guilty As Sin - Taylor Swift
“ I noticed something about Hermes,” Peach whispers as she looks up from her book.
We’re sitting in the grand library, and I don’t usually study here. I spent more time sleeping with random guys between the aisles than anything else, but I seriously need to focus on the next essay for Reeves. I have a headache and feel I’m coming down with a cold, but I have to push through.
“Do I want to know?” I mumble, scrolling down an article on my laptop.
“Yes. Because I think it’s about you.”
I look behind my screen and at my friend. “What hasn’t been about me when it comes to this stupid account lately?”
I notice she wasn’t actually reading, but rather on her phone, which is between the pages of her book. Typical Peach. She grabs it and shows me a few different posts. “Look.”
With a huff, I force myself to relive the latest posts. The FBI at my house, Hermes revealing I knew about the parties, and the one about Maria and Matias.
I can’t help a sneeze, my whole body shivering from a chill coming from deep within my bones. I mumble a quick sorry to our librarian.
“Any reason I’m re-traumatizing myself?” I ask Peach.
“You don’t notice something missing?”
I shrug, not loving that she wants to get into this.
“They stopped putting ‘your secrets are safe with me until they aren’t,’” she explains.
I look again, scrolling through the page. The one about my dad being arrested had the signoff, but the two after that, the ones that truly ruined my reputation, don’t have the typical Hermes signature.
“So? They forgot.”
She shakes her head, rolling her lips inwardly. “I don’t think so. Something is different. They never post about the same person so many times. The writing is different, and there’s no signature. And they usually post the truth. We both know you didn’t hurt Enzo and Matias. Or asked anyone to hurt them.”
Perking up, I look at the screen again. “What are you thinking?”
“I think it’s not the same person it used to be.”
“How?” My surprised gasp gets me a shh from Mrs. Davis, and I offer her an apologetic smile.
Peach rolls her eyes before focusing on me again.
“We can’t know for sure, but I think someone else has taken over the Hermes account. Someone who hates you.”
Her eyes widen, pointedly looking behind me, and I turn around to see what she’s hinting at. Megan, Chris, and some other students are sitting at a table not far from us. It will never get easier seeing her with him, and I struggle to swallow the jealousy. After our moment at the studio, I’ve never felt more like I should be the one sitting by his side and studying with him.
“Megan?” I bring my attention back to Peach. “What, she somehow knows who Hermes is and convinced them to take over the account?”
“Or she hacked it?”
“But then Hermes would have said something about it.”
“Would they?” she insists. “If they did, they would not only take the risk of being found, but also reveal they have a weakness. I think the real Hermes hasn’t posted anything in a while.”
I feel my eyebrows pinching, running through the possibilities in my mind. “Would Megan even know how to hack an account?”
“What do you know about that woman? She transferred this year and is somehow everywhere, knows everyone, is already top of her class. The bitch could work for NASA for all we know.”
I snort. “That comes with being Chris’s girlfriend, Peach. He might have gone away for undergrad, but he’s always been a Stoneview god.” Going back to my article, I mumble, “It doesn’t matter. Whether it’s the original Hermes or her…I’m fucked either way. The whole college hates me.”
“I don’t hate you. Alex, and Wren, and Achilles don’t hate you.”
I smile softly at her, but my gaze drops, the feeling of everything slipping through my fingers and being unable to do anything about it so strong that I’m helpless despite her words. “I love you.” And to stop the pity party, I stand up. “I’m going to get a few books and then we should head home. I feel really unwell. ”
Another sneeze escapes me, and I bow my head to avoid Mrs. Davis.
I walk for almost five minutes before I finally find the back aisle where I know my books are. And of course, it’s at the kind of height people like me can’t even reach in their wildest dreams. I jump a few times, but I don’t manage to grab it. Looking around, I notice the rolling ladder attached to the shelves.
Here’s to hoping heeled cowboy boots and a rolling ladder don’t make for a deadly combination. I pull it to where I need, grab the wooden bars, and make my way up. I’m too focused on looking for the exact two books I need to notice the presence behind me.
“Any other man seeing this view would have ended up worse than dead. You’re lucky I’m the one who followed you here.”
I jolt, my fingers gripping the ladder harder. Looking down at Chris, I see his eyes stuck under my skirt, a smirk spreading on his gorgeous lips.
“Don’t follow me when you’re supposed to be with your girlfriend,” I huff out. “And don’t look up my skirt.” I press a hand just under my ass to keep the material close to my skin as I take a step down.
He moves closer. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, Sweets.”
I freeze. He stepped too close, and I can’t keep going unless I want my ass to sit on his face.
“What are you doing?” I hiss. “Get out of the way.”
His hands reach up, strong fingers wrapping around my upper thighs, under my skirt. “Don’t you ever tell me to get out of the way when your ass is involved.”
“Chris, I’m not joking. We’re in a library.”
“Never stopped you before. ”
Looking over my shoulder, I narrow my eyes at him. “Why do you know so much about the things that have gone on when you weren’t a student here?”
“Because I kept tabs on you. Bite me.” He illustrates his words by pushing my skirt up and biting the curve of my ass, the sting littering my body in goosebumps.
“Get off me.” I take one hand off the ladder to try to push him away, barely reaching his head. “I’m serious.”
“Keep it down,” he orders in a low voice. Grabbing my waist, he flips me around.
I yelp, struggling to find my footing on the step again. He keeps hold of me until I’m steady and looks above my head.
“Hold on to the bar.”
“Are you insane?”
“When Daddy talks, you listen, Ella.”
“Oh, fuck. You. ”
He pulls my body, and the fear of falling makes my hands reflexively grip the bar above my head.
“So you do know how to listen.”
Now that I’m stable, he releases my waist to slide his hands under my skirt again.
“Do you know how many of my messages you ignored this week?”
“That’s what this is about?” I try to keep some strength in my voice, naively thinking I still have a way out of this.
He messaged me a few times since our kiss, but I didn’t reply. The moment we shared hurt as much as it healed us, and I needed this week to process everything.
“Chris, I know we kissed, but it doesn’t change anything about the situation we’re in. You’re with Megan. I’m an Aphrodite. Reality didn’t bend for us, and we shouldn’t be messaging behind your fiancée’s back. That’s why I didn’t answer.”
For a second, I see him think hard about what I just said, and I think I’ve gotten through to him. But my hopes die when he lowers my panties.
“ Stop .” I glance down the aisle, my stomach twisting with a mix of excitement and mortification.
He holds me in place as he pulls one foot out and then the other.
“Yet another day you’re going to go home without your pretty panties. Did you wear lace for me?”
“Your delusion is driving you mad,” I grit out between clenched teeth.
I’m not sure if I’m more frustrated at him for what he’s doing, or myself for getting wet from it.
“It was five, by the way. The number of messages you ignored.” He pulls my phone out of my uniform jacket, and I watch with wide eyes as he sets a timer. “So I’ll be spending exactly five minutes tasting your gorgeous pussy. I don’t care if someone comes, and I don’t care if you come. As you so rightly mentioned, you’re an Aphrodite. So, I’ll take my fill and leave.”
Pleasure pools uncomfortably, and the second he notices me squeezing my thighs together, he grabs the underside of both, lifts me, and drops them on his shoulders.
I gasp. The only thing now holding me up is the fact that I’m still gripping the bar above my head and his hands on my ass.
“I hate you,” I whisper-hiss, panic and anticipation making me ache for him.
“Say that again in five minutes.”
Then he’s burying his face between my legs, his tongue probing between my lower lips and rolling around my clit .
My arms tense, hands gripping harder as I strain under his assault.
“Chris,” I moan. “S-stop.”
I would have been surprised if he listened. I said it more to rid myself of guilt than anything else.
He keeps a consistent rhythm, pushing harder, and I have no choice but to stay exactly where I am or crash to the floor with him. My chest trembles as the pleasure spreads thickly through my veins and spikes of sharp need make me push back against him.
I’m not suffering through the ordeal; I’m complicit to the delight he’s forcing upon me.
Time disappears, and I throw my head back, forgetting to hate myself in the process of his teeth nibbling at my clit before he licks it better with a flat tongue. I forget where we are, that I’m letting my ex eat me in the aisle of our college library, that anyone could see me in this state.
I forget my own existence as he brings more wetness from my entrance to my needy nub, and I wrap my legs around his neck. I don’t even know how he breathes from how tightly I keep him against me. I never want this to end, and I get closer and closer to the edge with every passing second.
My entire body freezes in surprise when the alarm from my phone rings. He stops it right away so we don’t get in trouble.
And he pulls back from me.
“No, no, no,” I pant. “W-wait.”
“Wait? I said five minutes, Sweets.”
“I know, but…”
“But you want Daddy to make you come, don’t you? You want me to soothe the ache and take care of you?”
I nod, licking my lips. “Yes, Daddy,” I whisper .
“My poor slut. Always so desperate for me.”
He slowly unwraps my legs, puts my feet back on the step, and grabs me by the waist. “Let go.”
I release the ladder, and he carries me down, setting me on the floor. My legs tremble for a few seconds, my head swimming from the feeling of my pleasure still hanging above nothingness.
“Wobbly, are we?” he chuckles as he holds me a little longer.
I nod, my brain barely registering that I’m agreeing with a man I usually categorically refuse to agree with.
He leans forward, dropping a kiss just under my ear. “You feel warm.”
Numbly, I nod again, not sure what I’m agreeing to. All I know is I need to go home and do something about the pulsating need he left in me.
He straightens quickly, puts a hand on my forehead, and his face falls into a serious scowl. “You feel too warm. You have a fever.”
I shake my head. “Seriously, at this point, you’re worse than a dad. It’s just a little cold.”
“Go home and get some rest. Now.”
“I was going to go home anyway. I’m not doing it because you’re telling me to.” I feel like that’s something that needed to be said.
He smiles softly. “Fine. As long as you go home.”
My phone vibrates in his hand, and he looks down with no scruple.
“Privacy, Christopher,” I groan. “Can I have some?”
“No. And you know that, so don’t bother asking again.” As his eyes move across my screen, his face falls.
“What?”
“Don’t go.” It’s a stern order I don’t understand .
“Don’t go where?” I snatch my phone from his hand and look down.
Unknown: Aphrodite, your presence is required at the temple tonight. A car will pick you up at 8:30 p.m. You may not be late. Yours, Prometheus.
A rock solidifies in my stomach, and I look back up at Chris.
“Don’t go,” he repeats.
“The whole point is that I have no choice .”
“I don’t care. Go home and ignore that text.”
I lift a hand to my chest, fingernails digging into my skin. Always observant, he automatically takes hold of my wrist and brings my hand back down.
“Don’t scratch. It’ll be okay. I’ll make it okay. You’re ill and you can’t go. I’ll make sure they know that.”
I blink at the phone, hardly hearing his words. “Who is Prometheus?”
He pauses when my eyes dart up. Looking to the end of the aisle of books, then back at me, he says, “Megan’s dad.”