Chapter 19 Dredyn
NINETEEN
DREDYN
Chapel parties after an AGU win? Pure fucking chaos. Both Omega Chi Kappa boys and some of DSN are out in full, reckless force. And I’m sprawled out on a half-broken pew outside the chapel.
Mad, Rook, and CJ flank me on the pew, passing around the flask of spiced rum.
Mad’s eyes are glazed as he nudges me. “Dredyn, you see the new girl over there?” he slurs, chin jerking toward a blonde who’s cheers-ing a red solo cup with another girl with crazy hair.
“Thinking I might take her home. Her name is Sable. Asher was telling me about her.”
CJ barks a laugh. “Shoot your shot, man, before Rook beats you to it.”
Rook grins. “I don’t steal teammates’ girls. Unless they ask real nicely.”
At this point I’m half listening, my eyes scanning the area for the only girl that matters to me. But then I catch a flash of a DSN officer—Dayton Hughes. My father works for him, which means that, inevitably, in the future, I will work for Dayton.
Doesn’t mean he’s above me . . . just means there will be certain jobs he can’t do without me. I cut through the crowd and call out his name. “Hughes!”
I don’t miss the flicker of distaste in his face. Doesn’t matter how polite his smile is. I’m Omega Chi. He’s Delta Sigma. The Syndicate might want us to “coexist,” but we both know it’s a constant dick-measuring contest.
He sizes me up. “Steele,” he says, offering his hand.
“Big turnout tonight. Lots of fresh meat.”
“Virgins aren’t really my thing.”
“Oh, yeah? Prefer them a bit used? I could hook you up with my leftovers.”
“Thanks, but I’m good,” he says. “I prefer not to contract a disease.”
I laugh. “I’ll have you know we test regularly.”
“But y’all still don’t wrap it,” he fires back.
I shrug, unbothered. He’s not wrong. Girls spread their legs for OCK knowing damn well what they’re signing up for.
And they beg for more every time. “Touché.” I let my gaze wander, like I’m already bored, then I drop the bait.
“Guess we’ll see who wins the prize tonight.
My linebacker, Asher, says there’s a new girl. Pretty little blonde. Tight.”
“It’s not a competition, Dre,” he says. “Mainly because, if it was, then Silas would win instantly. He would make sure of it.”
I grin slowly. “Isn’t it?” One brow arches, but I don’t wait for an answer. I turn, peeling back into the chaos of the chapel.
“Catch you later, Hughes.”
I go back over to the pew, rip the flask from CJ, and drain a mouthful before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Let ’em chase after their tight little blondes with daddy issues. I’ve got a black cat Cinderella with claws and a mouth that says no when her eyes beg yes.
Sure enough, a familiar figure appears from the treeline.
Her dark hair cascades over her shoulders, and those curves of hers are more pronounced in a tight black top and a short red skirt that grabs my attention. She folds her arms over her chest, clearly defensive, clearly pissed to be here.
I bet Zane practically dragged her here.
“Holy shit. Black at ten o’clock,” CJ mutters, noticing my stare.
Mad whistles. “Didn’t think she’d actually show up.”
I push off the pew, handing the flask back to Rook with a sly grin. “Later, boys.”
I slip through the writhing bodies, beelining toward Mara and her watchdog. By the kegs, Zane is trying to hand her a plastic cup of beer. She looks like she’d rather toss it. Before she can, I step into their path with a broad, cocky grin.
“Was wondering when you’d show up, Hellcat.”
Mara’s eyes snap to mine, already glaring. Even angry, she’s so damn pretty.
Zane immediately bristles. “Back off, Dredyn. Your asshole friend, Beck, texted me saying there was someone here.”
“Got a crush?” I ask, running my tongue over my teeth, eyeing Mara head to toe, completely ignoring Zane.
She scowls. “Screw you, Dredyn.”
My grin widens. “That a promise?”
Her cheeks flush, whether in anger or embarrassment. She opens her mouth, but I can’t resist pushing her more.
“You look tense,” I say. “Need a hand, or maybe a little tongue?”
Zane takes Mara’s elbow, and I’m so fucking sick of him thinking it’s acceptable to touch my girl. “C’mon. We can just go.”
Mara hesitates.
I offer her a hand, palm up. “One drink, Mara. Stay. You are my girl after all. Let me show you off a bit.”
That does it. Her spine stiffens, she yanks her arm free of Zane, and snatches the cup from his hand. “Fine. One drink.”
“Mara, don’t—”
“I’ll meet you by the street in ten minutes.”
Zane looks ready to argue, but the stubborn set of her jaw stops him. He levels a warning glare at me instead. I just give him a lazy two-finger salute and a grin. Defeated and angry, he backs off a few paces, though I know he’s still watching.
The second he’s gone, Mara rounds on me. She pokes a finger at my chest. “Happy now? I’m here, having a stupid drink. Do you like me being miserable?”
“Miserable?” I step closer. “If I wanted to make you miserable, I’d let you rot in that manicured little life they built for you.”
I tilt my head, watching her jaw twitch.
“I’d let you sit pretty in that dorm like a good girl, wear your pearls, smile for the cameras, cross your legs just right. I’d let you play perfect daughter, perfect princess, perfect little fucking pawn.”
I pause, just long enough to watch her blink.
“But I’m not letting you do that.” My mouth brushes her ear. “Because watching you rot in that cage would be merciful.”
She scoffs, but before she can hurl another insult, I act. In one move, I tug her off balance right into me. She stumbles against my chest with a soft gasp. The cup in her hand tilts, beer sloshing onto my arm and dripping onto the neckline of her top.
“Oops,” I say. Beer drips down her neck, disappearing into her shirt. My mouth waters.
“You—You did that on purpose!”
“Maybe.” I take the cup from her unresisting hand. “But since we spilled, we should get you a refill.” I snag another cup off the keg table without looking, shoving it at her lips.
“I’m not drinking that,” she growls.
“No?” I press the rim of the cup to her lips suddenly. “Knock it back, Black.”
She tries to twist away. “Dredyn, don’t—”
I tip the rim. She jerks back, but a splash hits her mouth anyway. She sputters, glares, and—fuck me—swallows just to spite me. I don’t relent, pouring until she’s coughed down a few gulps. A trickle escapes the corner of her mouth and trails down to her throat.
“There you go,” I murmur, voice low as sin. “Good girl. Swallow for me.”
Mara chokes, sputtering. She shoves the cup away and coughs, wiping her chin with a trembling hand. She’s a mess now—beer glistening on her skin, anger and shock on her face.
“You’re insane,” she rasps.
“And you’re on my lap,” I counter.
Her eyes widen. “Wha—?”
I’m already moving. I drop onto the bench, dragging her with me. One arm hooks around her waist, the other steadies her thighs until she’s straddling my lap. She’s warm and soft against me, her vanilla scent mixed with a hint of spilled beer—intoxicating.
“Dredyn!” she yelps, squirming. She pushes against my chest, but she’s not really trying to get free, just reacting on principle.
From a distance, we probably look like a couple getting cozy. No one around us gives a damn—they’re all lost in their own drunken fun. Mara realizes this too. I feel her stiffening as her eyes dart around and find no one to help.
“Shh,” I breathe against her ear. My hand slides onto her bare thigh, just below the red skirt’s hem. She sucks in a breath, freezing.
“Get your hand off me,” she whispers, voice half panicked, half aroused.
I brush my nose against her cheek, pretending I didn’t hear that. My hand drifts up her thigh, drawing lazy circles that have her breath stuttering even as she whispers for me to stop. “No one’s watching, Mara,” I murmur. “We could do anything right now and no one would notice.”
She makes a soft sound at that, a mix of fear and unwilling thrill. Her fingers dig into my shirt, gripping instead of pushing away.
She shudders in my arms. “This… this is just a game to you,” she says, as if reminding herself. Her voice trembles.
Maybe it is a game. But right now it sure as hell doesn’t feel like one. “You started it,” I murmur, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Walking in here like you own the place, in that sexy little skirt. You knew exactly what you were doing to me.”
She turns her face and suddenly we’re nose to nose, sharing breath. Her eyes are huge, pupils blown. “I hate you,” she says, but it comes out weak.
“I know,” I whisper, almost gently. My fingers slip just an inch higher, under the edge of her skirt.
The tip of my pinky grazes the damp fabric of her panties.
Fuck. She’s wet. A primal satisfaction thrums through me.
I nearly groan aloud as heat coils in my gut.
My cock presses painfully against my jeans, aching to claim her here and now.
She’s a virgin, I’m sure of it. Untouched, innocent Mara, letting the campus villains corrupt her inch by inch. The realization makes me feverish with possessive pride.
Her lashes flutter.
She’s right on the edge, and so am I.