Page 4 of Breakout (Walker University #3)

three

M y mind is racing a million miles a minute as it always does. I swear it feels like I never get a chance to just stop and take a breath.

My life is hectic. At this point, I wouldn’t know how to handle it if it wasn’t always chaos.

It’s been that way since I was young. I always had to do my best in school to work toward a good future.

I didn’t have a loving family to fall back on if my plans failed.

My foster parents only cared about one thing: the check they collected each month.

I have no option but to succeed. It’s why I’m busting my ass.

My days are filled with classes while my evenings are all about work. On the off chance I get a day off of work, I’m studying or trying to fit a little time in for my friends.

I’m burning the candle at both ends just waiting for the day I run out of wick.

It’s why I’m hustling from class to my dorm right now. I need to get there and finish my homework assignments before work. If I don’t, I will be fucked for this week. It means giving up precious sleep or, even worse, my only sense of relief lately. Beckett.

So I’m surprised when I make it to my door to find the man in question leaning against it, checking his phone.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He looks up, shooting me a crooked smile. “I happen to know that Cora is out with Kellan for the evening.”

That usually means we hook up here, but today I am too high-strung. I got a “C” on my last sociology paper, so I need to work harder at it. I cannot afford another one.

“I really need to study,” I warn him, unlocking my door and opening it.

He steps in behind me, shutting the door before he hugs me from behind, kissing my neck.

“Then study. I’m just hungry.”

I pull out of his arms, giving him an odd look. “I don’t have much, but what I have is yours. Take whatever you want.”

I wave toward the small stand Cora and I keep our food in with a microwave on top. It’s not much, but it saves me from eating out all the time.

Ignoring Beckett and whatever his game is, I pull out the chair at my desk before setting my bag on it. After unloading my books, I put my bag to the side and take a seat.

I am dreading this project for sociology. This week is all about family units and how the family affects the individual.

Our professor wants us to draw on our own experiences in our paper discussing this week’s topic.

It’s a sensitive topic for me. I hate talking about my family, mostly because all I remember about my parents is that they loved me very much.

Other than that, I have nothing left of them.

Since I was so young when they died, they threw everything away from our home and sent me to foster care with the clothes on my back.

I don’t want to talk about that.

Letting out a sigh, I get to work. I actually forgot Beckett was even there as I started writing the intro to my paper. So when he pulled back my chair, I let out a scream.

“Whoa, didn’t mean to scare you.” He holds his hands up.

I roll my eyes at him. “Sorry. I’m in the zone. I really don’t have time for whatever it is you are here for.”

He nods. “I can tell. You seem tense. I only want a snack. Once I get it, I’ll be out of your hair.”

Of course he does. Guy has tons of money yet wants to eat my snacks. Whatever. I won’t tell him no.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

I go to pull my chair back in, but he stops it, dropping to his knees.

When he taps my thigh, I instinctively lift my hips. “What are you doing?”

“Having a snack,” he tells me, pulling my yoga pants and underwear down in one go.

I gasp, but he somehow fits his big body under my desk, pulling my chair back in. Then he spreads my legs, putting my now tied-together-by-my-pants ankles over his shoulder.

“Study, Pey. I’m just going to eat and go.”

“Beck,” I start, but when he kisses my inner thigh, the protest dies on my lips.

I need to be writing, but all I can focus on is his tongue as he swipes it through my folds.

God, the man is a fucking menace with the way he teases my clit. Lightly sucking and applying pressure but never pushing me over the edge.

My body is already tense, so it doesn’t take much to have me feeling like I might explode.

My pen drops from my hand as my head falls back, moans falling from my lips.

“Beck,” I moan out his name.

It must be what he is waiting for because the teasing stops. Instead, he slides two fingers inside of me as he sucks my clit between his teeth.

I bury my hands in his hair and grind against him, needing more. More pressure. More thrusting. More Beckett.

“Fuck, Beck. I’m almost there.”

The breathlessness in my voice surprises me. It’s only been minutes, and he already has me primed and ready to go.

It’s like every time we have sex, he learns the cheat codes to my body. He learns exactly how to move in order to make me come.

Oh, and come I do. My neighbors have no doubts as to what is happening the way I scream out my pleasure with Beckett’s name on my tongue.

My hands clench in his hair as my body presses against his face.

It feels like I’ve wet myself with how much of my essence is on the seat of the chair.

When I finally am able to open my eyes and calm my breath, I look down at Beckett, finding his face drenched with his signature smirk, ever present.

“That’s my greatest accomplishment,” he tells me, moving my legs over his head so he can lean up and kiss me.

“What? Making me come? You do it daily,” I quip.

That only makes him smile more. “Glad you are well-pleasured, but no. I made you squirt.”

My mouth opens and closes like a damn fish.

Squirt? I’ve never done that before.

It’s like he can read my mind because he leans into my ear and whispers, “It’s what I’ve been training for. I might not have all of your firsts, but this one is mine. I own it.”

My body shivers at his words. He owns it like he owns me every time we fall into bed together.

I’ve never been with someone long enough for them to learn my body, nor have I wanted to be. I can see the benefits to it, though.

My hand moves to his pants, feeling his hard cock, but he pulls away.

“I’m stuffed. I should get going. You have studying to do.” He winks at me.

“What about you?”

He grabs his cock and squeezes. “Delayed gratification, Peyton baby. It makes the high that much better.”

Then he kisses me once more before leaving me in a puddle of my own juices, thinking about what the fuck he just did to me.

He ruined me.

No one will ever compare to Beckett Hayes.

Peyton thought I went to her place for her, but the truth is, it was selfish of me. I know she doesn’t like middle-of-the-day trysts, but I needed her. Needed to touch her and remind myself of what life could be like outside of my family’s control.

Peyton is my dirty little secret. One I wish was out in the open. It would cause me a lot of drama and grief, but it would be well worth it. She is the one thing that has renewed my belief that I am doing the right thing.

I want to be happy, not miserable.

When my father called and invited me to the house, I knew I needed something to calm me before I went. So I stopped to see Peyton.

Might seem like a stalker knowing her schedule and all, but it’s made things easier for us. We shared our schedules at the beginning of the semester so we could be on the same page.

After leaving her, I feel like I’m high on cloud nine. I’ve been researching for months about squirting. I wanted to see if I could make her feel so good her body couldn’t help but release. Not all women do it, but I knew that even if she didn’t, it would be fun trying.

The pride I feel at the accomplishment fills me the entire drive to my parents’ house.

I don’t even care what bullshit my father is about to tell me.

Probably more of the last meeting, which consisted of him telling me I needed to be prepared to step into my role at the company as soon as the ink on my diploma is dry.

I ignored him then, and I will ignore him now.

My first sign that something is off is when I see the other car in the driveway. It’s not my parents’, which means they have company. This doesn’t bode well for me.

Getting out of the car, I head up to the door. Gerald, our family butler, opens the door before I can even knock.

“They are waiting in the dining room for you. He is unhappy that you are late,” Gerald warns me.

I give him a short nod.

I knew he wouldn’t be, but Peyton tasted so good. I can still taste her on my tongue. The delay is well worth whatever bullshit my father will pull tonight.

Walking into the dining room, I force a smile on my face.

“Oh, Beckett. I was so worried,” my mother says, what I would assume should be a smile on her face.

Truth is she has had so much Botox that you can’t tell how she feels these days.

She comes over, kissing my cheek, her nails digging into my arm as she whispers, “You’re late. You embarrassed us.”

I pull back from her. “Sorry for my tardiness. Traffic was heavier than usual.”

Father eyes me like he knows I’m lying, but he pastes a large grin on his face.

“Beckett here is about to graduate with his bachelor’s in business.

Then he is going to come help me run the place.

Beckett, come meet Barry and Thelma Jergans.

They own the Jergans Corporation. We handle their stock portfolios. ”

Walking over to them, I hold out a hand and shake it.“Nice to meet you both.”

“Oh, there she is,” my mother says.

Spinning, I find a tall, blonde woman walking into the room. I frown when I realize she is about my age. This is a setup. I should have known.

“Beckett, come meet Penny. She’s the Jergans’ daughter. She graduated last year and is working at the family business.” Mother motions me over.

I swallow hard but go and shake the woman’s hand.

She smiles at me as she takes me in. She likes what she sees. Why wouldn’t she? I’m handsome, and that’s not being cocky. I’ve been told many times how good I look. Add in the wealth factor, and well, women want me. Even when I don’t want any of them.

“I have heard so much about you. I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

I hate it. I hate her. I hate everything about all of this.

I can’t say that, though. Not yet. So I don’t.

Instead, I let my parents lead us into the dining room where a four-course meal will be served.

As the first course appears, Penny turns to me.

“I hear you are into sports,” she starts.

“Hockey. I play for the Walker University Wolves,” I tell her.

“Oh, that’s impressive,” she says.

“He will be done with that soon. It’s only a hobby of his while he studies. We’ve allowed him his small pleasures, but once he graduates, he will be focused on the business,” my father adds to the conversation.

I grit my teeth, wanting to contradict him. Little does he know, I’m hoping to get drafted. Leave this shitty place behind.

“Oh, that’s too bad. A man in uniform is hot.” Penny gives me a small smile.

“So I’ve heard,” I mumble, eating my soup.

“Not in hockey. Do you realize how many of those Neanderthals lose their teeth? How disgraceful,” my mother says.

“They get all sweaty and have scars too. I don’t understand how anyone could want to subject their bodies to that kind of punishment,” Mrs. Jergan scoffs.

I want to tell them all the shut the fuck up. That if they don’t like it, then too bad. It’s not their life.

I’m stuck though.

Penny reaches under the table and grabs my hand, squeezing it once. I pull my hand away and shoot her a glare.

She looks surprised but continues on with the conversation.

She likely was offering comfort, but I don’t want her comfort. The only comfort I want is from Peyton.

I have no clue how I’m going to endure three more courses of this meal. All I know is there will be only one thing I want for dessert.

Peyton.

She’s the only thing that can erase this from my memory.