Page 26

“I ’m sorry, what did you just say?” I’m pulled from my dissociative stupor.

The two girls in front of me in class look back at me with shocked expressions.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry.”

I wave her apology away with my hand. “Forget that. What did you just say? A photo?”

She lifts her phone up for me to see. My vision focuses, and my bottom lip starts to quiver as I realize what I’m looking at—or rather who.

The headline reads, A Congressman’s Daughter Assaulted on School Grounds by a Faculty Member.

Pictured beneath the ridiculously long title is a photo of me … being cornered in the practice room by Rupert. Eerie shivers straighten my back and twist my stomach.

How? There aren’t even cameras in those rooms. Where did the photo even come from?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you … that it was you.”

The girl starts to pull her phone away, but I grab it and quickly scroll, skimming the article as shock rolls through me.

My dad knew about it, told me to stay quiet, and then spoke about it in an exclusive interview? How could he use my fucking trauma for his own benefit? And without even telling me?

Are you kidding me?

My mother’s kind face flashes in my mind. She would be so disappointed in who he ended up becoming. I might not have known her for a lot of my life, but I knew her enough to know that she would hate who he is now.

My dad spills in his interview about how hard this has been for me and how I wanted to keep everything private. But apparently, I changed my mind and wanted to use this to advocate for campus security.

Laughing angrily, I hand her phone back to her and grab my stuff. “Thank you.” Without another word, I grab Sunny’s leash, who looks up at me concerningly.

Dogs are perceptive, but especially my Sunny girl. I swear she’s the biggest empath I’ve ever met.

“Come on, baby.”

We walk out of class, which was seconds from ending anyway, and stride out of Hubert Hall to head back to our room.

Taking my phone out, I call Phillip, someone who understands politically manipulative parents. But I find that he’s already calling me.

“Hello?” I answer, realizing my voice was sharp and quick.

He sighs. “I imagine you’ve seen it?”

My blood boils. “Oh, yeah. Definitely saw it! What the hell, Phillip?! I mean, I feel like I’m dreaming, and this is a crazy-vivid one that feels so real. But then I’m going to wake up because there’s no way in hell that my dad is using my assault to win over voters.”

Sunny and I turn the corner, passing Happily Ever After Floral, then Cogsworth Coffee, and then the biggest quad on campus. Of course, I had to find this out when I was in one of the farthest lecture halls from my dorm.

“I’m sorry, Lore. It’s a dirty fucking move. Did he even tell you about it?”

“No!” I shout, realizing it was more like a scream as students’ heads whip my way. “He didn’t even know it was me.”

“He found out somehow,” he mutters.

“What the hell?” My voice is quiet as I squint at the buzzing group three hundred feet in front of me. But by the time I recognize the threat, it’s too late; they’re already striking.

“Alora! Alora Briarwood! Tell us …”

“Alora! How do you feel, being on campus after the attack?”

“Miss Briarwood! How does it feel, having such a caring father?”

“Alora, with your father running for senator, are you hoping for change to be implemented on campus for student safety?”

Phillip’s voice cuts through the overbearing questions. “Where are you?”

“Main quad!” I nearly shout into the phone because I’m stuck in a circle of human vultures, moving slowly as I take small steps forward, Sunny tucked tightly against my side.

“Please, move!” I shout, the polite response to the media flowing from me with muscle memory. And then I remember that I don’t give a fuck anymore when it comes to appeasing my dad. “Get the hell out of my way!”

“Has the attack made you bitter?” a guy asks, shoving his phone in my face.

Grabbing it, I turn around and launch it as far as I can without thinking twice. “What do you think?”

Sunny yelps as they close in tighter on me, someone probably stepping on her, and I feel like I’m going to explode like a bomb.

I have to protect her first. I know she’s just confused and scared.

Crouching down, I wrap my arms around her and take a deep breath before hauling her up. “Move!” I yell, my voice cracking with frustration.

I kick my leg out, and one of them grunts and shifts out of the way, opening a tiny gap in the wall of flashes. Bursting through it, I run, carrying Sunny’s fifty-pound body in my arms, each step feeling heavier than the last.

The group follows me at an uncomfortably close distance. When I set Sunny down, she immediately starts to jog with me, and we round the corner to the path toward the dorm.

“Thank God,” I exhale, seeing my heroes running right toward me.

I couldn’t be happier to see Malik and Phillip as they lead the group of hockey players, closing the distance between us.

Malik instantly tucks me behind him, spinning to me as the rest of the guys rush past us, chasing the reporters away.

“Hey, I’m right here,” Malik murmurs, assessing me for injuries, but he won’t see any on the outside.

My heart rate is rising, not only from the physical exertion of picking Sunny up and running, but also the stress of whatever the fuck that was. God, it’s been years since I had to deal with the press. But it’s even worse with my dad’s announcement of his run for US senator.

Walking out of the way of everyone else, I drop my backpack to the ground.

Crouching down, Malik stops me, but only for a second as he drops to the paved walkway, pulling me down into his lap, my side against his chest.

“I’ve got you. Deep breaths, baby.” Malik kisses my temple repeatedly, lightly wrapping his arms around me.

Sunny lies down, resting her head over my thighs, and I pet her, trying to distract my mind while I force the breaths in and out.

Sometimes, my panic will only worsen my symptoms. I need to calm myself, calm my heart rate. Freaking out only worsens it.

Malik rubs my back, whispering softly in my ear, “There you go. That’s it.”

After about five minutes, I’m feeling good enough to get moving. I just want to get home and lock myself inside. A few of the guys trickle back over to us after scaring the media away.

“Thank you.” I look up at them as they come to a stop in front of us.

“No problem.” Asher smiles. “It was fun actually. Besides, you’re practically a legend, like the rest of us.” His gaze falls from me to Malik.

Phillip crouches down in front of me. “Hey, how are you doing?”

Shrugging, I sigh. “Feeling better. But you know … how loving our dads can be.”

He clicks his tongue. “Sure do.”

“Come on, baby. Let’s get to your room,” Malik murmurs into my ear, sliding his arm beneath my knees and his other around my back.

I inch forward to slide off of him, but he grabs me firmly.

“Uh-uh. You’re not walking.”

I’m surprised he didn’t freak out over Phillip being here.

Phillip sticks his arm out, bends down, and grabs Sunny’s leash. “Why don’t I take this pretty girl for a walk while you get her settled in?”

Malik smirks. “Sounds good to me. Bug?”

Nodding, I agree, “She would love that. Besides, you’re probably far more at her pace than I am. Would you grab my backpack, please?”

He nods and picks it up from the ground, handing it to me.

Phillip calls Sunny to follow him. “Come on, Sunny Bun.”

“Go.” I release her verbally, knowing she wants to stay at my side.

Lifting me up into the air, Malik stands to his feet. I bite down on my bottom lip and watch him intensely. I could get used to this princess treatment.

Griffin clears his throat. “You guys all right? Want us to walk you back?”

Malik shakes his head. “No, I’ve got her from here. Thanks though.”

They nod before splitting off in the opposite direction. I have no idea how he got so many of them to drop everything at a moment’s notice to come to my rescue. Or how Phillip even found Malik in, like, a minute. But regardless, it was a happy coincidence.

“How are you actually doing?” Malik’s voice caresses my cheek as he lifts me higher in his grasp.

Looking over at his stunning purple eyes, I answer truthfully, “Like I need a good distraction .”

His eyebrows lift, and he chuckles. “Oh, really?”

I giggle. “Yeah. But you’ll have to do most of the work because?—”

He interrupts me, “Don’t worry, baby; I’ll keep your legs in the air—for the blood flow, of course, not any other reason.”

I cackle. “Oh sure, okay.”

“You think you can handle it?” he murmurs, his voice sweet and kind, but I can’t help to take it as some challenge.

“I think I can handle you just fine.” My tongue swipes my bottom lip, and I smirk.

“That’s cute, Bug. But you have no idea the restraint I used when I fucked you for the first time. The sheer willpower not to pound into you all night long, over and over .”

He approaches the entrance to the dorm hall, and I use my key fob to unlock the door.

When he carries me inside, a few onlookers ogle the tattooed and jacked hockey player as if I wasn’t even in his arms. Something about it lights a fire in me, the smallest flame of possession igniting.

They can look all they want, and I don’t blame them so long as they don’t try to touch.

He’s mine.

Malik uses my foot to press the Up button outside of the elevator, and I giggle as we stride inside, the doors closing behind us before ascending.

When we step off of the elevator and turn down my hallway, there’s a gentleman waiting outside of my door, with a garment bag in his arms.

Malik slowly sets me down, striding ahead of me with me tucked behind him.

“Miss Briarwood?” the man in a suit asks.

I nod.

He juts the bag toward Malik and me. “A delivery from Mr. Briarwood.”

“Thank you.” I smile kindly at the messenger, taking the bag. There’s no reason in taking my anger out on him; he’s just doing his job.

He immediately leaves, and I feel bad, not knowing how long he had to wait for me, but the tag hanging on the hanger steals my attention away from any guilt.

Next Friday, seven p.m. Gala at Triton Harbor Event Center. Wear this.

“He’s lost his mind,” I whisper in shock that this is all very real and not just a bad dream.

Malik unlocks my door, and we slip inside. I hang the bag on the back of the door.

Malik leans against the wall, waiting for me to make the next move.

“It’s from my dad. He wants me to attend a gala with him next Friday.” I rub the bridge of my nose. “It’s sad. I don’t even recognize that man anymore—and I don’t mean the progressive balding. It’s like he’s not even my dad. Not in the ways that matter.”

Slowly walking over to me, he cups my cheeks, brushing his thumbs back and forth. “I’m sorry, Alora. You deserve a much better father than him .”

Looking up into Malik’s eyes, I take a slow and steady breath, reflecting for just a moment on how far we’ve come.

When I was in trouble, being swarmed by the media, he dropped everything and came to me. He carried me back to my dorm … again.

Time and time again, he’s shown me how he feels. I know expressing his emotions verbally is harder for him. Maybe right now, I can speak his language.

“Distract me,” I whisper sensually, sliding my hands across his shirt, feeling the mounds of muscle beneath.

He smirks. “Distract you? Hmm? How do you propose I do that?” The sassiness disappears for a moment as something dark washes across his features. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

Shaking my head, I trail my hands lower, slipping my right hand beneath his joggers and boxers, wrapping my hand around his already-hardening cock. “I’m sure. Now, are you going to fuck me or not?”

He snaps, fisting the hair at the nape of my neck and tipping my head back at the same time his tongue plunges into my mouth. His hands make fast work of my clothes, stripping my sweater, bra, leggings, and panties to the floor, and his stare hungrily devours me.

“Goddamn, Alora, you’re perfect,” he groans, his hands palming my breasts with need. “Now get on your bed and spread those legs for me.”

Doing as told, I walk over to my bed and lie down on my back, propping myself onto my elbows as I watch him tear his clothes from his body.

Ripping his shirt over his head, he throws it to the floor before quickly stepping out of his boxers and joggers. “Wider, baby. I want to see how wet and ready you are for me.”

Opening my hips more, I feel so bare waiting for him as he prowls closer, his gaze exploring my body.

He pumps himself from base to tip with his left hand, the same one with my name tattooed on his knuckles.

I still can’t believe he did that, but there is something so goddamn hot about my name being permanently engraved in his skin. There’s no question in his mind that we belong together, or he wouldn’t have done it. So, I won’t let there be any doubt in mine.

I want to feel exposed with him, down to the core. He’s the only person in this world I want to experience this level of vulnerability with.

Running his thumb over the bead of pre-cum on his hard erection, he softly groans, his eyes traveling back up my body to mine. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

I nod, opening myself up even more. “Then you’d better be fast.”

He scoffs, his eyes darkening. “Careful, baby. You might bring out a side of me you aren’t ready for.”

Sitting up taller, I reach forward and wrap my hand around his velvety shaft, pumping him over and over. “Try me.”

A sexy, deep groan vibrates through him. “You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow when I’m done with you.”

I bite down on my lip as my cheeks erupt in redness. “Good thing I have you to carry me.”

“I don’t want to warm you up with my fingers this time, baby. I want to feel your sweet pussy stretch for my cock.” His finger hooks under my chin and tips my head up, and he stops at the very end of the bed, between my legs. “It’ll be intense, but, fuck, so good.”

I know he won’t push me more than I can handle. If I tell him it’s too much, he’ll stop. I want all of him, in any way I can get, in every way.

Leaning back, I palm my breasts and jiggle them gently, watching his dick throb.

His resolve breaks, and he bends over, running his tongue up my center. I gasp as his tongue works vigorously, bringing every nerve in my body to the surface.

Standing to his full height, he grabs his dick and brushes the fat head up and down through my soaked center. His thumb circles my clit as he lines himself up.

“Malik,” I moan, instantly covering my mouth.

He grabs my arm and pulls it down. “Don’t you dare stay quiet. I own your every moan, whimper, and cry. Give them all to me.”

When I nod, he pushes into me, and I audibly gasp at the pressure.

“So fucking tight, baby,” he whimpers as he works himself deeper inside of me.

It’s so much less painful than the first time we did this, but still overwhelmingly intense.

I moan softly as he fills me up with every inch. “More. Please .”

A sharp sting slaps against my thigh from his palm as he slams into me at the same time, and I cry out, “Holy fuck!”

His tattooed fingers reach toward my throat and circle it as he rears back and rocks into me. “You want more, baby?”

Nodding, I realize he might have been right. I don’t know if I can handle unbridled Malik. But I want to, and I’m not going to stop.

Slipping his thumb into my mouth, he growls, “Such a greedy little slut for this dick, aren’t you?”

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

His fingers whip against my inner thigh as he pounds into me, the mix of pain and pleasure like nothing I’ve ever felt before, bursts of euphoria erupting with each slap and thrust. His thumb leaves my mouth, and his hand wraps back around my throat, squeezing tightly. I’m not going to last another five seconds at this rate.

“Malik! Oh fuuuck! It feels so good!” I whine.

“Yeah, baby?” He pulls his hips back and rails into me, fucking me rough and steady. The sounds of our bodies colliding echo through the room. “Don’t you hear how good it sounds when I fill your juicy pussy up? Like fucking music.”

My body starts to levitate as the volcano inside of me prepares to erupt. “Please, fuck, yes!” I cry out, my back arching as my orgasm tears through my body.

As I fist my hands in the comforter, he continues to pound into me, making every pulsing wave even more intense.

He slaps my breast, and I whimper at the sting on my nipple.

“I’m not letting you go until I feel you come one more time, Alora.”

I wiggle my hips. The sensations are mind-blowing. “Malik …”

He hears my plea, his thumb finding my clit again. “Come on, baby. Be my good fucking girl and come on my cock again.”

As he rolls his hips into me, his breathing picks up, the same as mine. My second orgasm is seconds away from tearing through me.

“Yes. Just like that. Oh fuck, your tight pussy is heaven,” he moans, and I’m gone, plummeting off the edge of the earth and floating through space as my body convulses with pleasure.

He circles my clit harder, riding me through it. But as I shift my hips, he whimpers, “Fuck, baby.”

Pulling out, he comes on my center, the warmth running down my folds.

His heavy breathing mixes with mine. Then he fetches a towel from my hamper, cleaning us both up with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Inching myself off of the bed, I walk over to my dresser and grab new clothes, slipping on comfy lounge shorts and an oversize T-shirt before climbing in bed. Malik puts his boxers on before joining me.

Sliding his arm beneath my waist, he pulls me against his side and kisses the top of my head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

My heart warms, and I look up at him, finding his stare soft and gentle and so, so passionate. The urge to tell him I love him is overwhelming.

But I don’t know if he’s there yet, and I want to wait for the right moment. I’m going to tell him very soon, but I want it to be perfect.

“Good thing you’ll never have to find out again.” I kiss his firm pec.

He leans his head back and stares up at the ceiling. “Are you going to any of your other classes today? I can walk you so you don’t get bombarded again.”

“Probably not today.” I shake my head, glancing at the clock, and I suddenly realize he shouldn’t be here. “Oh my God, Malik. You’re going to be late for the bus!”

His smile tips up with a secret, sparkles in his eyes. “No, I won’t. I’m not going.”

I repeat his words to him in a stupor. “You’re not going? To your away game?”

He looks me deep in my eyes, and his voice is loving and serious when he says, “There will always be another game, Bug. I want to be here with you in case you need me.”

My eyes well up with tears, and the biggest smile stretches across my face. “ Malik .”

His cheeks redden, and he melts into my bed. “How about we watch a movie?”

I nod, snuggling deeper in his embrace as he grabs the remote from my nightstand, turning my TV on.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Malik looks at me smugly. “I’ll get it.”

Striding over to the door in only his boxers, he throws it open and leans against the wall.

“Jesus Christ,” Phillip scoffs. “Glad you could at least get those on before opening the door.”

Sunny rushes past him and beelines it to the bed, jumping up and pouncing on me.

“Hi, baby! Did you have a good walk?”

Excitement widens her big brown eyes as she pants heavily.

“Oh my goodness, what a happy girl you are!”

Calling out to Phillip, I shout my gratitude. “Thank you for taking her!”

He pops his head around the corner. “Anytime!” He winks at me and smiles before heading back out.

Malik shuts the door behind him and walks back over to us, sliding back in bed. I pull the covers over Malik and me, and Sunny snuggles up between our legs.

The cutest family.

The thought equally terrifies and excites me. But that’s what we’re slowly becoming—each other’s family.