And Duke.
Whoever the fuck Duke is.
Oh, he’s the one who’s chanting. Wait…ThatDuke. I think he sits behind me in history class. He has a funny nickname… What was it?
Something tightens around my thigh while I tip back onto the hard chair to finish off the strawberry flavored… vodka? Gin? Fuck knows.
Who cares? This is the most fun I’ve had in… ever.
Slick sweat glistens across my body, sticking my uniform to my skin as my pulse hammers harder than thebass. My nose twitches with a numb tingle. I wouldn’t mind another bump right about now.
Or two.
I drag my eyes up as the faint sound of chatter rings all around. Everyone looks blurry yet completely clear. Other than Duke, I don’t think I know anyone else here, except maybe the girl in the green ripped jeans who’s flashing her phone in people’s faces. I think she’s in my history class too.
Have I been here before? Maybe. It looks like the living room of every college flat I’ve ever been to. Beer bottle caps litter the floor, drinks are on every flat surface, and random sporting items hang on the wall.
Vibrations hit my back, followed by tumbling laughter. I blink once, swing my gaze to the hand sliding up my thigh, then to my warm chair—chest?
Duke’schest. When did I end up on his lap? Wait—isn’t it a school night? How many hours until I need to get ready for it?
God, how much have I—
“Come on, baby,” he purrs against my skin.
I barely feel when the ridge of his nose runs down my neck or when he takes control of my hips to grind me against his slowly hardening cock. I turn my head into him, and I can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of my chest. Didn’t I think he had bad BO when I first got here? He doesn’t smell so bad now. He doesn’t smell like anything, actually.
After I called Tony, he picked me up and drove us to this party he knew about. Then he gave me a couple lines on the house and followed it up by thrusting someone else’s box of drinks in my face. Next thing I knew, Duke was my best friend because he had a bag of pills with my name on it.
His blue eyes flash to mine, lips splitting into an excited grin, showing slightly yellowed, crooked teeth. He looks wrong. His eyes should be hazel, not blue. And he’s so skinny and he doesn’t have an ounce of muscle on him.
I jolt when his teeth scrape against my jaw. “You owe me some fun, Blaze.”
My brows knit together. I don’t owe him anything, but I wouldn’t mind some fun. It’s been months since I’ve been laid. Maybe longer. I can’t remember. I don’t like anyone in Tony’s crowd—and you should never screw the crew—but we’re at some college student’s flat, so who gives a shit?
I definitely don’t. Not after the shit Mom pulled and all the fuckery I’ll have to deal with up until I graduate—and KohenFuckingOsman. How dare he steal the wallet from me.
“I’ve been wanting to get a feel of that—”
“Stop talking. You’re not hot enough to open your mouth too.” I slam my lips against his, effectively shutting him up. For a couple seconds, at least.
Duke chuckles, moving out of time with my lips. My eyes close, and golden-moss irises and black hair flash through my vision, and I push my ass down against his groin. Cool air kisses my legs as he pulls the skirt of my uniform up to sink his fingers into my bare flesh, kneading it uncomfortably. My head swims as his other hand fists my hair to deepen the kiss.
“You like what I have to offer,” he mumbles against my lips, pulling away long enough to take two pills out of a bag. One ends up on my tongue, the other on his.
I snicker to myself because I definitely didn’t end up on his lap for his personality.Thisis what I needed. I’m three sheets to the wind andcouldn’t give a shit if he’s just offered me cyanide. I’m not missing out on anything if I die.
My equilibrium shifts when Duke yanks me back to his lips. Either he’s an awful kisser, or it’s my fault there’s so much teeth going on right now. I bet Kohen’s kisses would be all pillowy and bruising with all that anger and his thick, kissable lips.
Duke keeps kissing me. And kissing me. And kissing me. It’s a dizzying cycle that tips and turns.
I’m distantly aware of someone hooting in the background over the music playing. I think I hear a giggle as well. Nothing makes sense because I blink, and the music becomes muffled, and a door slams somewhere around me. The room is dark with only the yellow light of a lamp to illuminate the unmade bed and clothes on the floor. We’re in someone’s bedroom.
He yanks off my uniform top and grabs my tit. “Fuck, Blaze,” a head of blond hair groans around my nipple. “I knew these’d be good.”
A whimper drags out of my throat when he—Duke?—squeezes my free tit. My eyelids feel so damn heavy.
I gasp, and the next time I blink, I’m on something soft. Glazed blue eyes bore into mine from above me, blond hair swaying in time to the jolts going through my body. God, he’s ugly. Is this what my life has come to? Sex with men whose best lighting is no lighting?
