20. Tristan
20
TRISTAN
L eaning against the wall, I scan the crown of drunk people while Paul makes his rounds. Music thumps through the living room. It’s so loud that I swear the bloody windows are rattling.
To my left, a group of guys laugh and shove each other as they play beer pong around the dining room table while another group of both guys and girls are making out on the red couches in the middle of the room. And everywhere in between, people are clustered together on the floor, either dancing or screaming to be heard over the music as they try to talk. I shake my head at all of them.
I really don’t want to be here. I need to study. There are now just over two weeks left until the first week of exams, and I have some seriously intense classes this semester. I’m smart, and I do genuinely enjoy learning about this, but that still doesn’t change the fact that I also need to study in order to pass the exams. Which is why I should be seated at the desk in my room right now. Not leaning against the wall in the middle of a party .
But I can’t leave.
My gaze sweeps across the room again before landing on Paul. He’s seated on the armrest, chatting up some girls on the couch. I have already determined that there are no threats to him at this party, but I still can’t leave. Because this is my job.
Paul is here to sell, and I’m here to make sure that no one messes with him or tries to take the product without paying for it. Or if they do, I’m here to make sure that they come to regret it.
But none of the guys who usually make trouble are at this party. It’s just a house full of drunk art students. Which is the best crowd to sell to. Lots of them do drugs, to help with creativity or whatever, and practically none of them are inclined to violence. But even though I know all of that, I still need to be here and lurk behind Paul’s shoulder like the god of death.
So I lean against the wall with my arms crossed over my chest, and scan the crowd for threats that won’t come.
Soon enough, my mind drifts back to Elle. Again. Ever since I got her arrested last night, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. She keeps popping up at the most inconvenient times. Especially the sight of her in handcuffs.
A small flicker of guilt pulses through me.
Maybe it was a bit too harsh? She got me arrested for a crime that I did actually commit, while I got her arrested for something she didn’t even do.
I clench my hands hard, and anger quickly burns away that tiny scrap of guilt.
No, it wasn’t too harsh. It was simply revenge. With interest.
Elle Summers deserved everything she got.
And she’s gone now, so it’s finished anyway. By now, the police must have informed the university that she has been arrested, and they must have expelled her. I only wish that I had been there to see it so that I could memorize what her face looked like when her perfect life shattered.
Not that I need help remembering what her face looks like. Because I see it fucking everywhere. I swear, she’s even h?—
My thoughts come to an abrupt halt, and I jerk back in shock.
Because I’m not simply imagining her face.
She is here.
I blink repeatedly, just in case I’m hallucinating. But I’m not.
There, across the room, is Elle Summers. She’s wearing a little black dress that hugs her chest and then flows out over her hips, her wavy brown hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and there is a carefree smile on her beautiful face as she drinks from a red plastic cup before laughing at something the guy in front of her said.
For a few seconds, I can’t process what I’m seeing.
How can she be here? How can she look so happy and carefree?
She should’ve been arrested and expelled. I saw her get arrested, for fuck’s sake! So what the hell is she doing here?
Pushing off from the wall, I stalk towards her. The people who see me coming quickly hurry out of the way. The ones who don’t get shoved aside. I flex my hand. Fire courses through my veins.
I’m coming up on Elle’s left, and there is no way that she can’t see me from the corner of her eye. But she still doesn’t turn to face me. The guy she’s talking to does, however. His worried eyes flick from my face, down to the tattoos along my arms, and then up to my face again when I come to a halt right next to them. Opening his mouth, he starts to say something. I cut him off.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand.
Elle says nothing. Doesn’t even acknowledge that I’m here.
Fury roars through me.
I grind my teeth and level a hard stare on the guy next to her. “Leave.”
He casts a quick look at Elle, but then apparently decides that she’s not worth the trouble, because he turns and scurries off.
Elle scoffs and rolls her eyes. And then she starts to leave as well.
My hand shoots out. Grabbing her arm, I spin her back around so that she’s forced to look me in the eye.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I repeat, my voice hard.
She just looks up at me in silence for a few seconds. Then she points towards her ear before motioning vaguely at the room around us. “Can’t hear you.”
A harsh laugh rips from my chest. Yeah, it’s loud in here, but it’s not that loud.
But fine, if she wants to be difficult, I’ll be difficult.
With my hand still locked around her arm, I turn and start dragging her with me across the room. She lets out a yelp of surprise. While stumbling after me, she uses her free hand to try to pry my fingers off her arm. When that doesn’t work, she tries to simply dig her heels into the floor. But she’s so hopelessly outmatched against me that it makes no difference.
I cast a quick glance towards Paul to make sure that he’s still fine, and that he knows that I’m leaving the room for a while. He has already spotted me, and gives me a discreet thumbs-up in reply while he continues talking to those girls on the couch.
Elle growls in frustration as I haul her up the stairs and towards one of the empty bedrooms, but she can do nothing to stop me. When we reach it, I practically throw her into the room before I stalk in after her and slam the door shut. Then I lock it too for good measure.
Still trying to straighten from my manhandling, she snaps her head towards me at the sound of the lock clicking. Then she narrows her eyes at me. “Seriously?”
“We could’ve had this conversation down in the living room. But you complained that you couldn’t hear anything. So now here we are.” I flash her a sharp smile. “In an empty room. With no witnesses.”
The bedroom is deserted, but not technically empty. There is a double bed with neutral white sheets by the wall behind Elle, and a closet and a full-length mirror to my left. But there are no personal effects anywhere, which makes me think that this is some sort of guestroom or something.
Elle just scoffs in reply, and then brushes her hands down her dress to smoothen it out. I start towards her while she reaches up to fix her ponytail.
When she sees me advancing on her, she quickly drops her hands from her hair again. But before she can take a step back, I’m already right in front of her. Yanking up a hand, I grip her chin, forcing her to remain where she is and to maintain eye contact.
“Now, let’s try this again,” I say, my voice laced with threats. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She smirks up at me. Fucking smirks . I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smirk before. The sight of it makes lightning flicker through my veins and blood rush to my cock .
“Apparently,” she begins, her eyes glinting and a mocking tone lacing her voice. “If you’re rich enough, you can buy yourself out of practically anything.”
I start in surprise. Partly because she threw my own words back in my face with flawless cockiness, but also because of what her words actually mean.
Elle Summers, the girl who has never even jaywalked, bribed a police officer?
“Shocked?” she mocks. Then her gaze sharpens. “Yeah, that’s how I felt when I realized that you had set me up.”
I tighten my grip on her jaw as I stare her down with equally hard eyes. “You deserved it.”
“I sucked your cock!” she snaps. Her chest rises and falls with angry breaths as she glares up at me. “I begged you on my knees and then sucked your cock, and you still had me arrested.”
My cock hardens even more at the memory, but I force myself to ignore it as I instead give her a vicious smile. “I never told you to do that. You decided to do it on your own.” I shrug. “And what guy would ever say no when someone willingly offers a blowjob?”
Embarrassment sears her cheeks.
I laugh and then release her jaw. “So, sucking my cock? That was all you, sweetheart.”
Her cheeks are flaming red now, and lightning dances in her eyes as she raises a hand and stabs her finger against my chest. “You still agreed. You promised that we would be done if I did you a favor.”
“Yeah, well, guess what? I lied.”
“You son of a bitch!” She shoves at my chest with both hands.
The moment her hands land on my chest, dark desire flashes through my veins again. My cock aches. Fucking hell, I need her to stop touching me.
Yanking up my hands, I grab her wrists and force her palms away from my chest. “I swear to God, if you put your hands on me one more fucking time, I will?—”
“You’ll do what? Come in your pants like a horny teenager?”
A jolt shoots through me. What the actual fuck? I have never heard her speak like this. Never heard her use words like cock or speak vulgarly in any way.
My gaze drops to her lips. Those perfect fucking lips.
Who knew that the stuck-up little Elle Summers had such a dirty mouth?
“You see this?” she suddenly says, her tone mocking, as she nods towards me. “This is what I’m talking about. You wanted me to suck your cock.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I?—”
“You seriously think I can’t tell? Back in that alley, you kissed me like you’ve been starving for it for years.”
“It was a ruse to plant the knife on you, remember? And besides, you kissed me back just as fiercely.”
“And then back in your room, when you bent me over the desk, I could feel how hard your cock was. I could feel it pressing against my ass.” She yanks her hands out of my grip and gives me a knowing smirk. “You might hate me, but you want me. Admit it.”
Alarm pounds inside my skull. Because she’s right. She so fucking right. I don’t even know why I’m drawn to her. To this new version of her. I wasn’t attracted to her back in high school. She was always too artificially perfect. But now, here at Bercester U, I’m drawn to her like a fucking moth to a flame. Maybe because of the flames. Because of the fire and fierceness that she has showed me for the first time these past few weeks.
This messy and wild version of her is hot as fuck.
But I can never admit that. Never. It would be the end of me.
So I fix her with a hard stare and simply declare, “You’re a rat.”
Rising up onto her toes, she gets right into my face and slants her lips over mine, just a breath away from touching. “And you’re a snake.”
Lightning shoots through me when her breath caresses my lips, and my cock aches with need.
Raising my hands, I shove her back before I can do something really fucking stupid.
She loses her balance and topples backwards, landing on the smooth bed behind her.
“Yeah,” I reply, while desperately trying to calm my pounding heart. “But you’ve forgotten something.”
The previously perfect sheets get slightly rumpled as she pushes herself up into a sitting position and tosses her hair out of her face before raising her eyebrows at me and fixing me with a taunting look. “And what’s that?”
“Snakes eat rats.”
Her eyes glint and a wicked grin settles on her mouth as she spreads her legs wide. “Then start eating.”