Page 12 of Play Dirty (Villalargos University #1)

Chapter Eight

Nico

M y body burns from the intrusion— the smell of his cologne clings to my skin like a fucking curse. I should have gone back to my dorm, but what’s the point of sitting in silence with my demons when I can just drown them in bourbon?

Or whatever these fancy pieces of shit are drinking.

Small waves of electricity still run through the hand that cupped Shiloh’s soft skin— I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.

I wanted to touch her, make her look at me as if I ruined her.

The simmering anger I always carry seems to overflow when she’s around.

There’s no holding it back—it demands to be felt.

To break free and break her. Gripping the mask, I pull it free from my face.

Walking into the library, then out to the balcony, to catch some air.

Even with all this oxygen… I still can’t breathe. My lungs won’t expand. My heart continues to beat, but I’m not living.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I wait for the message— to do what was asked of me. To be here at midnight. Why? Who the fuck knows? I’m just an errand boy— a pet that obeys. Nothing else.

The burner phone in my pocket vibrates. With a sigh, I look at the illuminated screen, and my stomach drops as I read the words.

Anonymous

Want your freedom, stain your soul. Show me that you can listen. Fuck her.

Fuck her?

I shake my head. No, there’s no way. My throat closes up, tugging at my collar —I try to give myself more room to breathe.

What the fuck are they talking about? I’ve done nothing but stain my soul?

My body. What more do they want from me?

I consider chucking the phone into the large backyard but then it goes off again.

Anonymous

Don’t do it, Reyes, do as you're told. Do not disappoint me.

I scan the darkness, but all I see are students sneaking off and smoking, fucking, or doing whatever behind the bushes. I know there are eyes on me, but from where?

What the fuck am I supposed to do?

On a good day, I can hardly see the color blue and keep my composure.

However, right now? Not happening.

But before I can do anything, the door swings open – and the smell of her perfume hits me like a freight train stealing the air from my lungs.

Despite the lace mask, I can still see her cobalt orbs shining, even in the dark.

She stumbles, her hand rubbing her arm. Is she nervous?

I feel the blood rushing to my dick— and all I can think about is everything I’ve gone through in this pristine university.

And those fucking blue eyes.

Always blue.

Always drowning me.

I guess I'll show her how it feels.

They want me to stain my soul. Fine.

They want me to bleed. Fine.

So will she.

I creep around the darkness, letting the dread build inside her the deeper she gets into the study.

Once I’m behind her, there’s no room for failure.

No room for redemption. This will make me just as bad as the people who have hurt me, how ironic when they say everything has a price. I wonder what’s hers?

My hand closes around her mouth, and she freezes. Muscles locking in place as I walk over to the desk. There’s no fight in Shiloh— just acceptance, and it fills me with rage. Who hurts her?

Who has broken her this much, that she doesn’t resist– she just gives, and suddenly I don’t want to take.

“Who hurt you, Blondie?” I ask, inhaling a deep breath of her scent— flowers and mint. Erasing the stench of him on my skin. The contact of her soft lips should disgust me, but it doesn’t; if anything, it sends small sparks through my body.

I hate that I feel this way… especially for her .

However, I welcome the oblivion— the small reprieve that she provides for a moment. I want him all gone, replaced by her. My voice causes her to snap out of her small trance; after all, I’m sure that I wasn’t who she was expecting.

“Were you expecting the big bad wolf to come and eat you?”I can feel my heart racing, sending blood rushing to places it shouldn’t. What a fucking inconvenience —the only time it wants to work. It’s now. With her.

Shiloh’s breath hitches, slowly rising. “Little pig, little pig… wants to let me in.” That’s what gets her moving— her teeth sink into the flesh of my palm, and the pain has the blood speeding straight to my cock.

I recoil. Stepping away and allowing us both room to breathe. Holding her head up high, with the moon illuminating all the light from the metallic sparkles on her corset, I feel her gaze searing into me. She looks ethereal– like a fallen angel of sin.

“Don’t you fucking touch me, Reyes.”

My eyes focus on her mouth — anything but those fucking sparkling orbs of ice. “Does it look like I'm touching you? I just wanted to scare you, not fuck you.”

She tsks, “Fuck you, what are you even doing here? Didn’t think they would allow the help in this kind of event.”

There it is. She goes straight for the kill with her elitist remark, and the words get under my skin. I move closer and she steps back, body trembling, her chest rising slowly. Her lips part as she lets out a shaky breath, while mine curl into a sly smile.

“I will tell June, don’t fucking touch me.” She snaps, backing up into the shelves. I shake my head, like a cat playing with a mouse.

“There’s nothing to tell, Shiloh. I wouldn’t touch you even if you were begging.” I back her further into the shelves, heat radiating from her body in the cool room… My body casts a shadow over her, blocking the moon’s glow

“You’re not my type.” I lean in and whisper, but even I don’t believe that.

She laughs. A loud and evil sound. Her hand reaches out, freezing me in place as she cups my cock. I look down for a second, too stunned to even retort. The bulge in my pants is enough to make a liar out of me.

“Seems like I’m just that.” Her voice drops. “Your type.”

I swallow hard, past the lump in my throat. The desire to split her open and the shame of betraying June have me stepping back to allow some space to dissolve the tension between us.

“Don’t get too happy, Blondie, I just like to fuck.” I lie. My dick is only hard when I think of her, imagining all the delicious sounds I could make her make. Fuck, I’m so hard right now. “Nothing more than that, you would just be another hole to fill and breed.”

That fucking does it .

Her tongue darts out slowly, licking over the soft flesh of her lips. God, forgive me, because all I want to do is sin. Right here. Right now.

I should stop.

I should leave.

However, I remain in place. Looking at the way her lips curl into a devilish smirk. “You don’t deserve her, you don’t deserve to be in the same room as us. You’re filth, staining her and me. Go on and leave while you still have some decency.”

Shiloh takes it there with her classist bullshit, but her body betrays her.

She’s shaking, and her thighs clench together.

There’s no hiding what we want. No matter if it condemns us.

Such a filthy little slut, and I haven’t even touched her.

“I’m not the one wishing to fuck your best friend’s man and shaking from the need to do so. ”

I step closer— caging her in as my hands dart out and rest on the wall on either side of her head. She shoves me hard, causing me to stumble back, and then her hand goes to slap me. Probably from the embarrassment that her facade cracked just enough for me to see her need for me.

Catching her hand mid-air, I pull her closer than I should. A soft whimper escapes past her lips. She braces herself for a kiss, one that she won’t get. “So needy, does June know how much you want me?”

“Fuck you, Reyes,” she quips, her voice quivering with need.

“You wish you could, but it would be below me to fuck someone so desperate.” With that, I fist her icy locks, displacing her perfect bun, and shove her down onto her knees. Desperate. Full of shame.

She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t run. Instead, she holds her head up high and for a moment our eyes collide — all I can see is a dare.

Break me.

And fuck, do I want to.

“Look at you, Shi, on your knees for the help.” My voice is a low growl, fighting my own dark needs to cover her face in my cum.

Devouring her. Ruining the precious crowned one— Shiloh Johnson, Villalargo’s favorite ice queen.

For someone who hates the idea of touching myself or fucking, I want to ravage her.

I want to pull my cock free from my pants and fuck her —ruin her for everyone, but the shame wins. Guilt takes the wheel, and instead, I release her, letting her fall to the ground.

Without another word, I turn away and exit the room. They’ve already taken so much from me; the least I can do is not become the same as the monsters that have broken me. Just as I close the door behind me, the burner phone vibrates, and the message makes my blood run cold.

Anonymous

Choices have consequences.

Shiloh

I don’t know how long I remain in the same position he left me in.

Speechless.

Heart racing. My eyes blur, burning from the tears gathering as I wrap my arms around myself and rock to the silent lullaby of my shame. How could I do this to June? What kind of desperate whore am I? What am I turning into?

It’s not that I expected to find him here.

But I can’t deny the butterflies that erupt in a violent dance every time he’s nearby.

What hurts the most is the guilt I carry for having those feelings, even if fleeting.

I’m betraying my best friend with just the thought.

And tonight, I look down at my hand that still burns with his warmth.

Heat courses through me as I remember the weight of his cock in my hand— the feeling of it. Tears run down my face as I look at my traitorous hand, the sound of the grandfather clock ticks away, and all I can do is allow myself to sink further into the cool floor.

At least it wasn’t him .. That was here.

The question now is, why was Nicolas here? Why was he here waiting for me?

I let the tears and pain flow through me— feel every ounce of it before I slip on the mask, not the one that already covers my face, but the one I wear every day. Slowly, I rise to my feet, smoothing the fabric of my skirt, as I walk towards the bar in the library.

I have waited long enough.

Grabbing the glass bottle with bourbon from the mahogany cart, I don’t bother to pour it in a cup; instead, I bring it to my lips and take a long drink. Feeling the smooth, woodsy liquid slide down my throat, burning it in its wake. A river of fire and deception.

A smile escapes my lips before I wipe away the liquid that runs down my chin. He thinks he can play— I can play too, so much better. I let him see the ache that was buried deep down. That fire he lit all those years back, with no desire to put it out.

The fire burns low. A slow dance against time, but that small win is nothing when you can’t obtain the prize.