Hey, wasn’t like I didn’t warn the kid I’d do it, either.
Don’t give me a hard time about it. He and his friends were breaking the law and putting both my freedom and my scholarship in jeopardy.
Fuck that shit.
My plan for my second year of college is to do the same thing—observe my roommate, evaluate them for weaknesses, and then obliterate them. They’d never see me coming.
Until Owen enters my life and that plan disintegrates.
I know I’m in love with Owen from the moment I first set eyes on him. I thought Owen was fucking gorgeous when I first walked in to my newly assigned dorm room and realized he was my roommate. He was hot and had no clue that he was, which made him even hotter. Polite, fumbling, innocent, apologetic, a bundle of nerves and submissive, chaotic, low-key needy energy that drew me right to him.
I thought he was charmingly adorable when I realized he couldn’t fold clothes or make a rack worth a damn, and the harder he tried, the more flustered he grew.
I thought he was heartbreakingly endearing when I learned more about him, his childhood. The bitch who’d given birth to him and who also emotionally tortured him for his entire life.
I recognized his fragility, wanted to tuck him close to my side, protect him from the world, and never let him out of my sight.
I wanted my arm around his shoulders, my collar around his neck, my ropes around his body, and his mouth around my cock.
I wanted to do whatever it took to win this man over and make him happy. Make himmine.
As I get to know him, it’s almost as if the charred shell I’d withdrawn inside of to protect myself has suddenly shattered, leaving me vulnerable for the first time in years.
Wantingto be vulnerable to Owen, and not even knowing how.
It makes me immediately shift my plans from wanting to learn everything about him so I could weaponize it against him, to wanting to know everything about him so I could make himmine.
I…neededhim.
It also scares the fuck out of me.
Unfortunately, I recognize that, from the moment Owen sets eyes on Susa just a few days later, he’s in love withher. That nearly makes me hate my future wife on sight. Thelastthing I want to do is share Owen with Susa Evans.
Until I realize who she is and what she can do for Owen.
And once I finally admit she has the power to make him happy in ways I never can.
It also means my life quickly distills down to one point—I need Susa to get Owen. Which I suspect won’t be too hard, because it doesn’t take me long to suss out that Susa’s attracted tome. This works to my advantage, meaning far less effort required on my behalf.
Am I proud of that?
Not particularly. Not that I give a fuck, either.
Soon after Owen and I meet Susa and go over to her house that first night to help rid her of her ex-boyfriend, Owen makes a very apt joke about him being a well-trained pet.
He isn’t wrong.
His narcissistic mother has trained him in many ways, both subtle and blatant—ways that Owen doesn’t fully understand, at the time.
That also works to my benefit.
It means I will have a much easier time training him asmypet. But to do that, it means I also have to train Susa, and convince her to want Owen as her pet as much as he wants tobeher pet.
To get her to want tokeepOwen as her pet as much as she wants to bemypet.
Because, ironically, Susa is in love with me.
I suppose a good man, upon discovering a girl nearly ten years younger than him is in love with him—a girl who’s also the object of his best friend’s affections—would have walked away from the situation.
