Page 2
Story: Pretty Secrets
And my sister—precious, sweet Delilah—walked purposefully into their snare.
Each of their unfriendly pairs of eyes meet my discerning glare with a hardness of their own. A chill skitters up my spine. If my sister is here, pushing me forward, the coldness sweeping through me is a warning. To turn back. To save myself.
I won’t be doing any of that. My sister died on Devil’s Night. And on Halloween, I vowed vengeance.
I’m here to fight for the truth. It’s time for me to shed my West Coast persona and grab hold of the life I was dealt.
Secrets and parties, dresses and scandals, are all in my future.
I can hardly wait.
1
Leo
Ten Months Later…
Thumbing through my phone contacts is about as uninspiring as listening to one of my dear old grandfather’s tiring lectures. The screen’s harsh light makes me squint. I’ve been sitting in the dark with nothing but the soft blue glow from the electronics on my dash to light the interior of the car, waiting for this bitch to show up.
Imagine me back at Carnegie. The swelling anger inside me makes me scroll faster. I need a quick fuck to get all this aggression out.Daphne?No. Tight cunt, but she’s got a little too much ass for my interest right now.Gloria?She’s a moaner, which is hot in the right time or place, but I want a quickie, and she has this annoying propensity to want to stay after I nut.
The fuck is wrong with some girls? Can’t a guy just get in and out without strings?
Anne-Marie?Been there, done that plenty of times. She’s exactly what I’m looking for—the kind of no-holds-barred fuck that’s all about getting off and nothing else. My thumb moves to press her name, my dick already thickening, when headlights cascade through the interior of my car.
Glancing up, I watch as the lights from a Wrangler sweep the cobblestone pathways that crisscross CU’s campus before landing on Jarvis Hall. The stone building my family built for the exclusive college almost a century ago is old world gothic. When I was a student here, I prowled the place, using my name to get some ass. Rule number one if you were staying in Jarvis Hall, you gave it up to me whenever I wanted it. Anyone who refused got kicked out and had to find other sleeping arrangements.
Welcome to the world of the elite.
A smirk pulls my lips apart as I think about the good ol’ days. Jarvis hospitality, that’s what I’d called it. Most girls were more than willing to go for a ride, threat of homelessness or not, but it was a good excuse to tell themselves so they wouldn’t feel like the cheap whores they were.
Parked between two lamp lights, the Jeep door opens, and a single, toned leg searches for the pavement. I toss my phone down and huff. Looks like I won’t be working this aggression out of my system any time soon. Duty calls.
I pull out the picture I threw in my glove box after the meeting with Grandfather yesterday. It’s a family photo. Two stuck-up parents the same age as my own grin in the background while a pair of blonde girls are seated in front of them. One is smiling from ear-to-ear, a clone of her mother with her shoulders pulled back tightly. She looks like the kind of good girl I’d love to fuck the tension out of. The one who’ll scream for my dick over and over again after acting all coy and innocent. The other sister looks bored as fuck. Sure, she’s smiling because that’s what’s expected of her, but there’s a hint of annoyance simmering under the surface.
There are hundreds of Jarvis family photos like this where I look the exact fucking same.
Tracking my gaze toward the younger sister’s vehicle again, I find her on her tiptoes, digging into the back of the Wrangler with ripped shorts hugging her ass. My dick responds. It’s not often you find a girl who goes to Carnegie dressed like she doesn’t give a fuck. Most wear pantsuits and pencil skirts. This? This ensemble looks like Little Miss Astor went to a thrift shop and bought the smallest pair of shorts she could find.
Fuck.
Maybe watching this girl won’t be as bad as I originally thought. It’s better than the other tasks I’ve been given by my family’s patriarch. I always get the shit jobs, the ones in the shadows. The ones no one else is willing to do because they still care about their reputation. I’m not exactly the pride of my family. I don’t wear a suit and tie to work every day and fuck people over in business meetings with a smile on my face. I prefer to do that shit out in the open.
I peek at the photo once again, reading Grandfather’s writing. The older sister is dead, not that I needed him to confirm that. It’s the only thing the news covered when it first happened. The mysterious death turned tragic accident has slowly faded away like it’s only a bad memory. Shit like that tends to take place in my world. Pity I’ll never get the opportunity to fuck some bad into her. The little sister, though, is a different story. Just from the picture, I can tell she’s more my type.
Peering at her in action, I watch as she pulls a piece of luggage out of the backseat and sets it on the pavement next to her. Her thin tank top flirts with the high waist of her shorts as she spins toward her new residence hall—myresidence hall. Finally. Move-in day was yesterday, and because she didn’t show, I had to find a place to shack up last night. One of her roommates was more than happy to let me stay. Kerry…. No, Kasey. Whatever. Doesn’t fucking matter. I got what I wanted and was close enough in case little Miss Astor showed up late. Which never happened.
I snuck out at dawn so my temporary fuck didn’t get any ideas. After grabbing a coffee down the street, I returned to this spot and haven’t moved since. I may not like these jobs, but Grandfather has made it clear what it’s going to take to get back in his good graces.
Speaking of…. I grab my phone and send him a text before he accuses me of slacking off.She just got here.
I don’t exactly know why I’m watching her, other than the fact that her sister, who was a fledgling Knight, died at one of their gatherings. Bad press and all that. I’ve mused that at the very least, they want to make sure little sis doesn’t cause a scene. Worst case, the Knights did something and want to make sure this girl doesn’t squeal about it. Which is perfectly fine. I have plenty of other fun things she can do with her mouth.
She starts to walk toward the building, and I push my car door open silently to follow. Now is as good a time as any to introduce myself. I rearrange my semi-hard cock as I stretch from the car. The wheels of her luggage bounce across the cobblestone walkway. Closing the car door silently, I’m already picturing the fear in her eyes when I sneak up on her. I get off on their looks of alarm, their horrified reactions. After they relax, I watch for the moment when theyreallylook at me. The twinkle of interest in their eyes. The way their gazes sweep my tattoos. It’s always the same with rich girls like her. They fear me, but they’re also aroused by the fact that I’m trouble. That their daddies would freak if they found them in bed with someone like me. My balls swell in anticipation.
A soundless step forward later, I stop. The wheels have ceased their grinding, and she’s peering up at the three-story building, her long blonde hair dangling past her shoulder blades. A second later, her shoulders stiffen, and she immediately tilts her head. Before I know it, I lose sight of her as she darts in front of her Jeep and takes the walkway that leads around the side of the building.
“Shit,” I grumble.
Each of their unfriendly pairs of eyes meet my discerning glare with a hardness of their own. A chill skitters up my spine. If my sister is here, pushing me forward, the coldness sweeping through me is a warning. To turn back. To save myself.
I won’t be doing any of that. My sister died on Devil’s Night. And on Halloween, I vowed vengeance.
I’m here to fight for the truth. It’s time for me to shed my West Coast persona and grab hold of the life I was dealt.
Secrets and parties, dresses and scandals, are all in my future.
I can hardly wait.
1
Leo
Ten Months Later…
Thumbing through my phone contacts is about as uninspiring as listening to one of my dear old grandfather’s tiring lectures. The screen’s harsh light makes me squint. I’ve been sitting in the dark with nothing but the soft blue glow from the electronics on my dash to light the interior of the car, waiting for this bitch to show up.
Imagine me back at Carnegie. The swelling anger inside me makes me scroll faster. I need a quick fuck to get all this aggression out.Daphne?No. Tight cunt, but she’s got a little too much ass for my interest right now.Gloria?She’s a moaner, which is hot in the right time or place, but I want a quickie, and she has this annoying propensity to want to stay after I nut.
The fuck is wrong with some girls? Can’t a guy just get in and out without strings?
Anne-Marie?Been there, done that plenty of times. She’s exactly what I’m looking for—the kind of no-holds-barred fuck that’s all about getting off and nothing else. My thumb moves to press her name, my dick already thickening, when headlights cascade through the interior of my car.
Glancing up, I watch as the lights from a Wrangler sweep the cobblestone pathways that crisscross CU’s campus before landing on Jarvis Hall. The stone building my family built for the exclusive college almost a century ago is old world gothic. When I was a student here, I prowled the place, using my name to get some ass. Rule number one if you were staying in Jarvis Hall, you gave it up to me whenever I wanted it. Anyone who refused got kicked out and had to find other sleeping arrangements.
Welcome to the world of the elite.
A smirk pulls my lips apart as I think about the good ol’ days. Jarvis hospitality, that’s what I’d called it. Most girls were more than willing to go for a ride, threat of homelessness or not, but it was a good excuse to tell themselves so they wouldn’t feel like the cheap whores they were.
Parked between two lamp lights, the Jeep door opens, and a single, toned leg searches for the pavement. I toss my phone down and huff. Looks like I won’t be working this aggression out of my system any time soon. Duty calls.
I pull out the picture I threw in my glove box after the meeting with Grandfather yesterday. It’s a family photo. Two stuck-up parents the same age as my own grin in the background while a pair of blonde girls are seated in front of them. One is smiling from ear-to-ear, a clone of her mother with her shoulders pulled back tightly. She looks like the kind of good girl I’d love to fuck the tension out of. The one who’ll scream for my dick over and over again after acting all coy and innocent. The other sister looks bored as fuck. Sure, she’s smiling because that’s what’s expected of her, but there’s a hint of annoyance simmering under the surface.
There are hundreds of Jarvis family photos like this where I look the exact fucking same.
Tracking my gaze toward the younger sister’s vehicle again, I find her on her tiptoes, digging into the back of the Wrangler with ripped shorts hugging her ass. My dick responds. It’s not often you find a girl who goes to Carnegie dressed like she doesn’t give a fuck. Most wear pantsuits and pencil skirts. This? This ensemble looks like Little Miss Astor went to a thrift shop and bought the smallest pair of shorts she could find.
Fuck.
Maybe watching this girl won’t be as bad as I originally thought. It’s better than the other tasks I’ve been given by my family’s patriarch. I always get the shit jobs, the ones in the shadows. The ones no one else is willing to do because they still care about their reputation. I’m not exactly the pride of my family. I don’t wear a suit and tie to work every day and fuck people over in business meetings with a smile on my face. I prefer to do that shit out in the open.
I peek at the photo once again, reading Grandfather’s writing. The older sister is dead, not that I needed him to confirm that. It’s the only thing the news covered when it first happened. The mysterious death turned tragic accident has slowly faded away like it’s only a bad memory. Shit like that tends to take place in my world. Pity I’ll never get the opportunity to fuck some bad into her. The little sister, though, is a different story. Just from the picture, I can tell she’s more my type.
Peering at her in action, I watch as she pulls a piece of luggage out of the backseat and sets it on the pavement next to her. Her thin tank top flirts with the high waist of her shorts as she spins toward her new residence hall—myresidence hall. Finally. Move-in day was yesterday, and because she didn’t show, I had to find a place to shack up last night. One of her roommates was more than happy to let me stay. Kerry…. No, Kasey. Whatever. Doesn’t fucking matter. I got what I wanted and was close enough in case little Miss Astor showed up late. Which never happened.
I snuck out at dawn so my temporary fuck didn’t get any ideas. After grabbing a coffee down the street, I returned to this spot and haven’t moved since. I may not like these jobs, but Grandfather has made it clear what it’s going to take to get back in his good graces.
Speaking of…. I grab my phone and send him a text before he accuses me of slacking off.She just got here.
I don’t exactly know why I’m watching her, other than the fact that her sister, who was a fledgling Knight, died at one of their gatherings. Bad press and all that. I’ve mused that at the very least, they want to make sure little sis doesn’t cause a scene. Worst case, the Knights did something and want to make sure this girl doesn’t squeal about it. Which is perfectly fine. I have plenty of other fun things she can do with her mouth.
She starts to walk toward the building, and I push my car door open silently to follow. Now is as good a time as any to introduce myself. I rearrange my semi-hard cock as I stretch from the car. The wheels of her luggage bounce across the cobblestone walkway. Closing the car door silently, I’m already picturing the fear in her eyes when I sneak up on her. I get off on their looks of alarm, their horrified reactions. After they relax, I watch for the moment when theyreallylook at me. The twinkle of interest in their eyes. The way their gazes sweep my tattoos. It’s always the same with rich girls like her. They fear me, but they’re also aroused by the fact that I’m trouble. That their daddies would freak if they found them in bed with someone like me. My balls swell in anticipation.
A soundless step forward later, I stop. The wheels have ceased their grinding, and she’s peering up at the three-story building, her long blonde hair dangling past her shoulder blades. A second later, her shoulders stiffen, and she immediately tilts her head. Before I know it, I lose sight of her as she darts in front of her Jeep and takes the walkway that leads around the side of the building.
“Shit,” I grumble.
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