Page 38 of Play Dirty (Villalargos University #1)

Chapter Thirty- One

Nico

T he small room feels crowded, the air stale, and smells too much like corn chips with a hint of a caramel candle burning on the kitchen counter. This is not how I intended to spend my Sunday night, but when Ted called Thiago to let him know he had something, I couldn’t help but tag along.

Turns out Theodore Raymond Lorenz is actually the hacking god he claims to be. He was able to intercept the video uploaded to The Pulse, but the IP led to a dead end, so here we are deciphering the meaning of it.

No matter how many times I see it, this doesn’t seem like June… there's no way in hell that she would ever sleep with a man like Asher. That’s not June. Ted rewinds the clip, eyes flicking between the grainy footage and his second monitor. “Watch this frame.” I lean in.

The video plays in a loop on the screen, and Ted motions to the small glitches before slowing it down, pointing to a small flicker. A stutter. Something barely noticeable when you don’t know what you’re looking for. Not that I know, but he does. “What does it mean?”

He chuckles. “That's fake. Or at least whoever is behind her is. This isn’t the real video.”

“So what you’re saying is that’s not Asher walking behind June?” Ted pushes back his glasses, “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Whoever it is, they did a great job of adding him in, but it’s definitely not Asher. ”

He taps the screen. “There’s actually no one behind her at all.” I sit back, slowly processing his words as he takes a deep inhale of his vape. “If there’s no one behind her, who took the video?” Zayden asks, his voice hoarse from lack of use. Thiago just listens, leaning against the door frame.

This must be hard for him. Like Shiloh, he was raised around June. They’re all cut from the same cloth, and to his core, Thiago is a good man. His only downfall is his love and loyalty to his dad. “What the fuck is going on?” I whisper.

Thiago lets out a low whistle. “Someone is trying to make us believe she was with Asher, but why?”

I shrug. “Looks to me like someone is trying to bury the truth.”

What could somebody gain from twisting her image, from placing them togethe r? “Do you think it’s going to start problems between the girls?” Zayden asks as he flicks his lighter and lights a joint. “Doubt it, June is dead. What good would it do?”

Zayden sits back and inhales deeply, smoke disappearing inside his mouth. He chokes a little bit, but swallows down the cough. “It’s perfect if you ask me. You kill someone and then have people unraveling from the inside.”

“So like, pinning the girls against each other?” Thiago asks, pulling the joint from between his lips, their eyes clash for a moment, and I see it.

The tension they both refuse to acknowledge.

Zayden has always liked boys, but it’s his closet to step out of, so I’ve never pushed him.

I’m lucky he trusts me enough to share his secret, and Thiago has no qualms about whether you have a dick or not, but he pretends to be a womanizer to hide his attraction to Zayden.

Ted interrupts their stare down, clearing his throat. “How about if the killer is trying to frame someone else?”

We all turn.

“Keep talking.” I snap.

“Well, it’s obvious, June was killed, and someone is trying to not only cover their trail but clearly frame someone. My guess is someone close to her, someone right under our nose.”

The words wind around me, as thousands of encounters flash through my mind.

So many little moments. I look at the boys who look the same as I do.

“We should go.,” I mutter, rising from my seat.

Dread curls its tendrils around me, squeezing me firmly as I see the full picture.

It feels like cold water splashing me— finally waking me up.

Thiago nods as Zayden smacks his hand away and stands.

“Ted, keep us posted. Good work, bro.” I say before stepping into the night air.

Pulling out my phone, I look at the text message from Shiloh, but I don’t respond.

I put my phone back into my jeans pocket, turning to the only two people I know I can count on. “I have to tell you something.”

Thiago’s lips thin to a straight line. Zayden’s jaw ticks, and I take a deep breath in, finally understanding what’s about to happen. “Not here, let’s get back to the dorm.”

When we a rrive back at the dorm, the air is thick with tension, and the silence is deafening. The boys stare at the box lying on the bed. The same box that contains June’s phone. “I think I’m the one who’s going to be framed.”

“Fuck.” That's all Zayden says, plopping down on the bed. Looking at the phone like a death sentence., Thiago drags a hand over his brown tendrils, his expression unreadable.

I sit down hard, the weight of it all finally sinking in as I replay the night of the Hunt. I know I didn’t kill him. Sure, I roughened him up a bit, but he was breathing —knocked the fuck out but alive. Turning to look at Zayden, I ask. “Did you see him breathing?”

He nods. His dark eyes are full of worry. “He was.”

“Fuck. Nico, I should talk to my dad.” Thiago begins to lose his shit, Zayden just looks at me like I'm a dead man walking. Then — a loud knock.

“Nico,” Shiloh's voice cuts through the silence, all of us rushing to act normal. Zayden hides the phone, placing it inside the wooden nightstand. Thiago takes a seat. He looks stiff. Dread is written all over his face.

“Nico, please.” Her voice breaks a little, and with that, so does my heart. Would she believe me?

I look at the boys, making sure everyone is on their game before I open the door; they all still very much look like shit, but I open it anyway. Something about the woman who stands before me is different. Her eyes rimmed red like she’s been crying, yet hungry and accusing.

“Hi.”

“Hi, can I come in?”

I step away from the door, inviting her in.

She hesitates but quickly recovers, stepping inside.

“Can you give us an hour or two?” Shiloh looks at Thiago.

It wasn’t a question but a demand straight from the Ice Queen he rself.

One that Thiago doesn’t hesitate to comply with as he walks out with Zayden. The door closes, and she turns.

“Everything okay?” I ask, noticing how her body trembles, her eyes studying me like a predator, or maybe she’s already onto whatever I’m about to be framed for. Fear chokes me, and I force myself to move.

“I need answers.” She finally says low and unsure.

I step closer. “Answers require questions, Blondie.”

She lets out a shaky breath, fingers slipping through her hair as she pulls out the low bun, letting it fall in platinum waves down her back.

The scent of her hits me—heady, wild, and dangerous—suffocating every ounce of fear left in my lungs.

Then, with a tilt of her chin and the softest flutter of lashes, she asks, barely above a whisper. “Do you want me?”

The question takes me aback, not what I expected, but the words slip past my lips without an ounce of hesitation. Just need. “I do.”

My response earns me a small crooked smile, and she runs her fingers through her hair, pushing it behind her shoulder. “That one is easy. Do you trust me?”

“Trust you?” I raise a brow. “Where are you going with this?”

Her hand moves toward the straps of her dress, not hesitating as she slips it off. “Do you trust me?” The question is a low purr. “You told me not to trust you. But I want to. And I want your trust. So I'll ask again, "Do you trust me?”

The black tennis dress pools at her feet, leaving her wearing nothing but black lacey cheeky panties.

Her body perfectly defined, every inch glorious, begging to be touched.

My cock stirs, and my mouth has forgotten how to move.

My lungs seize as she closes in. Her hands cup both of my cheeks as she lowers my face to meet her gaze. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes. ” The response is immediate, and Shiloh breathes. Her body relaxes against mine, one of her hands trails down my chest, and I freeze.

Not out of fear, but out of the terrifying realization that I’d let her destroy me. And I’d thank her for it.

She touches the edge of my waistband, toying with the drawstring of my sweats like it's a fuse she’s about to light. Then, without warning, her hand slips inside. I hiss through my teeth as her small, cold hand makes contact with my heated skin.

I’m fucking hard, pulsing, and already leaking for her.

“Shiloh,” I whisper, but it’s really a warning. A plea. A fucking desperate prayer for more.

Always more.

Thankfully, she doesn’t stop. I try to look away, but her grip tightens around me, her strokes slow and intentional.

“Look at me,” She rasps out. “It’s me, Blondie. It’s me touching you.”

She squeezes my cock with just enough pressure to tease, to pull me from the abyss and drown me in her. My hips twitch forward, and she smirks like she knew they would. She has me wrapped around her finger— I just got the memo too late.

Her lips graze my throat, a feeling so unfamiliar that it causes me to shiver; her breath is warm and soothing. My hand moves over the curve of her ass and up the length of her spine. “You’re so easy to break when you let me in.”

And I am.

I fucking am.

Only for her.

My head tilts back as I bite down a moan, every nerve in my body drawn tight and vibrating.

My dull world erupts into blinding colors.

She kisses down my neck, before she pulls away, and I feel her sink to her knees before I can open my eyes .

The world begins to spin as my hand moves towards the top of her head.

She shakes her head, “No touching, Nico. Only looking.”

No touching.

I let out a breathless scoff. How could she possibly ask me not to? When that’s all I want to do. The man who can’t tolerate the feelings of others yearns to touch her. However, I’d do anything she asks of me, so I drop my hand. Even if it kills me.

Her fingers curl around the waistband of my sweats and pull them down, slow and deliberate. She doesn't look away — not even when my cock springs free, thick and flushed, leaking with need.

I watch her.

Watch as her mouth opens. Watch as her lips wrap around my throbbing length.

Fuck.

My hands fist at my sides as she takes me in, warm and wet, her tongue dragging along the underside of my cock like she wants to destroy me from the inside out.

She moans low in her throat, and it vibrates through my entire fucking body.

My legs tremble, and I bite down hard on the inside of my cheeks just to keep from losing it.

I watch as she pulls back slightly, still stroking me with her hand, slick and confident. “Look at me.” She commands— I obey.

Her eyes are sharp and unwavering, even with my cock in her mouth. There’s nothing gentle here— only purpose and control. “Shi.” I rasp out as my balls draw tight and heavy, heat pooling in my core. My jaws clench as my entire body locks up so tight —I think I might snap.

She pulls off completely, her hand never stopping, her other palm pressed flat against my abdomen. Through lashes, she looks up and whispers. “Nicolas Reyes… Are you a liar?”

My chest heaves. My knees threaten to give out. “No.” I breathe, but even that’s a lie.

That’s all she needs, before her strokes quicken. Squeezing just right. This time, I can’t hold it in. I come with a broken cry, her name slipping past my lips like a confession. My body convulsing, heat tearing through me as she milks me through it.

And the worst part?

She never looks away.

Even as I fall apart. Even as she continues to stroke my cock, her hand is slick with my cum. I want more. I want to sink inside her and fuck her until we forget we are two separate beings. “Please,” I beg. “Let me feel you.”

She stops, pushing me onto the bed. I fall on my ass, watching as she straddles me slowly. Her eyes remain on me as she sinks onto me. We both hiss from the friction. So good. She’s soaking wet for me, and my arms move to wrap around her. “No touching, Nico. Eyes up here.”

“You’re killing me, Shi.”

She gives me a breathless smile as she rides me, her hips rocking in slow, circular movements. Each circle makes my toes curl from pleasure. Her heat wraps around me so tight, it feels like punishment and salvation all at once.

My hands twitch at my sides, aching to grab her. To hold her. To belong. But I don’t. I can’t.

“Eyes on me.” She whispers. And I obey.

Like I always do.

I’m not even sure I fucking blink.

She keeps moving, and I think I’m losing my fucking mind.

She tightens around me, her moans low and needy.

My vision blurs, I’m fucking coming again.

My hips jerk beneath her, and her eyes stay locked on mine as I empty myself inside her.

She collapses beside me, breathing heavily.

I m ove to touch her, but she backs away just enough for it to be unnoticeable.

Shiloh uses her elbow to prop herself up, pushing her hair back.

Her expression is unreadable as she leans in and whispers against my mouth.

Our lips are barely touching. “Go take a shower.”

I stare at her, stunned. Drunk on her. On everything, she just took from me.

But I listen.

Hesitantly, I leave the bed and step into the bathroom, turning on the water and stepping inside. Pressing my forehead to the tiles as it runs cold over my skin. My body is vibrating from the post sex endorphins. Heart still racing and hands still shaking.

I don’t take too long before I finally step out, wrapping a towel over my hips. “Shi,” I call out, my stomach sinking as I take in the silence, as I step out of the bathroom into my empty room.

No Shiloh.

No goodbye.

Only now, the drawer is open. The box inside with June’s phone is gone..

And I know—

That she never came for answers.

She came for the truth.

And I just gave it to her.