Home > Lust (The Elite Seven #1)(11)

Lust (The Elite Seven #1)(11)
Author: Ker Dukey

“What? Why?” she scoffs.

My brow furrows, and the liquor in my veins offers her truth in my words. “I’m just so tired, but scared to sleep.”

Dropping my eyes to my feet, I scratch at a non-existent itch on the back of my neck.

Her feet shuffle, then she speaks. “Can I borrow some clothes first?”

Treading back to the bed, I drop my weight onto it and point to God’s walk-in closet. “Knock yourself out. He won’t notice.”

A few minutes later, the bed dips, and she sits next to me, Buddha-style.

“What do you want to talk about?” she asks meekly.

“Tell me a story.”

Snorting, she pushes the sleeves of a sweater much too large for her frame up her arms.

“I’m going to tell you the story of Romeo and Juliet, because I’m not sure you or the hussy who pushed me in the pool realize Romeo wasn’t a womanizer.”

A chuckle tightens my abs. I place a hand there and one over my eyes to cover the light from stinging my retinas.

“Is that what you think I am, a womanizer?”

Her thigh shifts, touching the side of my arm, and my heart jumps. That’s pathetic. It’s her clothed fucking thigh for fuck’s sake, and knowing her, done one hundred percent by accident.

“I think they should call you Casanova, not Romeo.”

“Okay, tell me the story of Romeo and Juliet.”

A blanket covers my lower half, and I smile when she forces my head to lift and stuffs a pillow beneath it.

“It all began with two feuding families…” she begins.

“This a party of two or can anyone join?” I start awake to the sound of God’s voice.

A rustling of covers and panic happening around me alerts me to Chastity jumping to her feet, hair fused like a bird’s nest and creases from the blankets indented in her soft cheek.

Her voice lulled me to sleep, her presence a kind of tranquillity, her body and pulse next to mine wading me into the shadows of my mind, a safety net from the darkness of my dreams.

“Crap. It’s four a.m.,” she croaks, her eyes darting between God and me.

“Good night?” God smirks.

“She called me Casanova.”

A pillow hits me across the head, and I chuckle. It may have only been four or five hours of sleep, but it’s the most rested I’ve felt in forever.

“I hate you,” she snaps, grabbing up her things.

“Not the usual response you receive.” God snorts, kicking off his shoes.

“I hate you too, ice queen.” I receive a one-finger salute before she flees the room.

My stomach protests when I go to sit up, my body hating my drinking habit and refusing to cooperate.

“God,” I groan into the pillow.

“Hmmm?”

“Can you make sure she gets a cab or something? Her friend was her ride here and I doubt she’s still here.”

I shouldn’t care how she gets home, but I do. I owe her for the dreamless sleep.

Twenty seconds is how long it’s been since I sat down opposite the school guidance counselor. Neither of us have spoken.

I blew a tire halfway here and had to jog the rest of the way, leaving my car on the side of the road.

“Chastity,” she finally says. “How has she been as a mentor for you?”

I shift in my seat to unstick my nutsack from my thigh and shake my head.

The week passed uneventfully. I managed getting to all my classes early and made some new acquaintances, but all things Elite were obsolete. Not even a murmur about the secret society—and that left me on edge. I assumed there would be an atmosphere surrounding the college, everyone waiting to see if they were going to be picked, but in reality, it really was secret and under most people’s radar.

That was the whole point, but it made finding out information about them really fucking difficult.

“Rhett,” Lillian coaxes, reminding me she asked me a question.

“What made you think we would be a good match?” I almost laugh, the memory of Chastity giving me the finger before she fled the room at God’s party playing in my mind.

I’d seen very little of Chastity since God’s party, and didn’t count on changing that even if she did cause the competitor inside me to pursue her just to change her mind about me. Or too get her to talk while I slept.

Fuck it. I have more important things to worry about.

“She’s well-liked on campus and knows the grounds better than most,” Lillian tells me, then quirks her head to the side, studying me.

“Was there an issue?”

“Apart from Chastity hating the male species? No.”

Smiling, Lillian flicks her fingers over her keyboard, typing something I can’t see onto her computer.

“I’m surprised you couldn’t persuade her otherwise.”

Is she flirting?

“The feisty ones tend to bite. Best to leave them be.” I shrug.

She changes the subject to my parents, and I spend the next twenty minutes nodding or shaking my head to her questions. I don’t want to talk about why my mother isn’t around right now, or that I’d seen more of Chastity last week than my dad.

“Is there anything you’d like to speak about?”

Nope.

“I’m good.”

“Okay. Well, have a good day. I’ll see you next week.”

She doesn’t follow me to the door like last time, and as I swing the door open, I almost collide with none other than Chastity.

There’s a stand-off of sorts in the doorway, both refusing to apologize to the other or move out the way, even though it’s clearly her clumsy ass who almost took us both out.

A sweet candy apple scent surrounds her, making my mouth water. Her eyes pierce me to the spot with defiance, the violet hints more prominent than the blue today.

Lazy and seductive, I lean in and inhale her scent before winking down at her.

“You smell real sweet today.”

She narrows her eyes. “It’s called a bath.” She makes a point of leaning forward and sniffing at my shirt. “Ever heard of it?”

I know from running here I must stink, but that’s not disgust on her pretty features. She’s trying to convince herself she’s not attracted to me and it’s cute as hell.

I scratch at my chin, then, in a low tone, say, “Nope, can you explain it?”

“Soap, water, look it up.” She tries to move around me, but I sway my body to mimic her movements just for sport.

“Isn’t that where you’re all naked and lathering up that creamy skin with bubbles?”

Relishing the tint to her cheeks, I brush past her, letting her move into the office, and call over my shoulder, “Thanks for the visuals, by the way, the towel over the weekend, I’ll be thinking about it all day.” I reel her in and watch her blow.

“You make me gag,” she says, then catches her words. Her shoulders deflate, and a grin tugs high on my lips.

“Yep, sure would, sweetheart.” The door slams shut, and a real chuckle resonates from my gut. Fuck, it feels good.

“You want to go to Gaspe’s for lunch?” God asks, staring at his cell phone.

“You waiting on a call?”

Looking up at me for the first time since we came outside, he shakes his head.

“Just checking my fantasy football.”

My own scoff almost makes me choke. “Yeah right.”

A couple guys tossing a ball back and forth a couple feet away filters into my vision.

“Let’s just eat on campus,” I tell him, holding my hands up for the ball.

Gaspe’s is my favourite place to eat. It’s expensive and a thirty-minute drive away. God doesn’t think about either of those things; he lives his life to a completely different tune than the rest of the world.

“Okay. I’ll get them to deliver it here.”

Unbelievable.

Waltzing into the parking lot, my feet skid to a halt on the gravel underfoot. No car. I forgot to arrange a ride and God fucked off after lunch. Pulling out my cell, I shoot him a text anyway.

Where you at? Need a ride.

A few seconds later, he replies.

Busy for next two hours.

Perfect.

Stacks upon stacks of books over two floors fill the space of the library. The area is airy and sparse, perfect for studying while I wait for God to pick me up.

Finding a table tucked away at the back of the room, I drop my ass in the seat and people-watch for a while. When that gets boring, I reach in my bag to pull out my books. A white envelope drops out with my name scrolled in red ink across the front.

My heart begins to thunder in my chest. Could this be it—the invitation to The Elite?

It seems too easy.

I scan the library for potential people who could have snuck it in my bag, but there’s not many people here, and where I’m sitting is secluded. Anyone could have slipped this in my bag at any point today. I open it up, finding an invitation to a club inside.

What the fuck? It’s just a party invite? We have an app for that, people.

My hope diminishes, and I stuff the card back in my bag and pull out my books.

Trying to ignore the not-so-subtle looks and whispers from a group of females sitting at table a good twenty feet away, I re-read the same page five times and still don’t know what it says. Slamming the book closed, I sag in the chair and close my eyes. It’s been over two hours, and I hit my limit at one. I need food and a shower.

“You’re in my seat,” a familiar feminine voice informs my almost asleep form.

Cracking an eye open, I sigh and force the other eye open. Sure enough, Chastity is standing with her arms folded over her ample chest, giving me a small glimpse of her cleavage.

“Are you sure you’re not stalking me?” I ask, not moving.

“You wish, Romeo.” She says Romeo as an insult, but it only makes me want to fuck her just to hear her moan it on her lips.

“This library is huge and you’re harassing me for my seat?”

“My seat,” she corrects.

   
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