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God, yes. This is what I need.

My head fell back, body buzzing and basking under the glow of firelight as he slammed into me. It wasn’t gentle, but it was exactly what I craved. Hot pleasure like molten honey seeped into my veins, making me dizzy with the scent and feel of him. My nails raked down his damp back, the muscles there tight and firm. He held me against him as he moved in and out of me at a mind-blowing pace.

My orgasm tore through me just as his tongue swept in between my parted lips, swallowing my cry of pleasure.Sweet Jesus.

The door creaked open, letting a stream of light into the room. Laughter and voices trickled in, and I turned my gaze to see my mother’s shocked face, which quickly morphed into unbridled rage. She stood in the doorway in her obviously expensive wedding dress, clutching the door handle with white knuckles.

I grinned, running my hands through Dreamy Eyes’s disheveled hair. I didn’t bother to untangle myself from him or cover up, and I was pleased he made no move to let me go either, regardless that he damn well knew someone was at the door. His eyes remained focused on my face. Without a word, my mother closed the door, and I rolled my hips, letting my eyes flutter closed.

I never claimed I wasn’t a rainbow of fucked-up. I had my mother to thank for that.

Chapter One

My plans for the future seemed so simple until they became a dangerous game of life and death. Something I never thought possible until I attended the Academy.

The rules of life weren’t the same.

And I found that out the hard way.

“Do you know how hot school uniforms are? Guys go nuts for that short skirt preppy shit. Instant boner,” my best friend, Ainsley, assured as she flipped through a row of designer jeans. We were shopping at another overpriced boutique where you couldn’t buy a G-string for under a hundred bucks.

This was her attempt at cheering me up. The problem was, I wanted to sulk in my misery. It was bad enough I was forced to transfer schools my senior year, but I was also being told how I could dress. Fuck Elmwood Academy. “I should show up my first day in a bikini and high heels.” That would make a statement. I wasn’t sure if it was the statement I wanted to get across, but I wasn’t thinking clearly, anger clouding my common sense. “Besides, you don’t need a school uniform to look good.”

And it was true. My bestie was a hottie. She was petite in a way that made guys feel strong, once they got past the gothic makeup. Ainsley Fisher was too damn cute, but she could lighten up on the eyeliner.

She threw a dark look my way with her pretty, mossy-green eyes. As usual, they were heavily lined with black mascara and smudged in smoky eye shadow that emphasized the beautiful slant of her eyes. “I think you are confusing me with you. I’d kill for your long, golden legs.”

“But at least you have a perky ass,” I retorted and slapped her on the backside. A pair of women shopping a few racks down shot me a dirty look. I glared back, lifting my middle finger in the air. They huffed and spun around, shaking their heads. Bunch of stuck-up hags. They were the kind of women my mom would love to be friends with: rich socialites with all the right connections.

Ainsley giggled. “I can’t believe you did that,” she muttered with a playful smirk, turning to check out her ass in the full-length mirror. “It is a pretty stellar ass, isn’t it?”

I gave her a grin in the mirror, my pink hair flashing in the corner. “You’d give Kim Kardashian a run for her money.”

“Right!” A tie-dyed shirt caught Ainsley’s eye, an identical match to her rainbow hair, and she paused to check it out. “You can’t get away with that shit anymore. You’re not anonymous. You’reSteven Patterson’sstepdaughter. And in this town, he’s a big freaking deal.”

I let out a low breath. “He owns two football teams. Whoopie.” Except in a town where football was as important as breathing air, it was a big deal.

Ainsley looked at the price tag and put the shirt back, moving on to the next rack. “You need to accept this shit. The sooner you do, the easier it is to play their games.”

“I don’t want to play any games,” I grumbled, gazing out the display window into the street.

She shrugged, tossing strands of hair over her shoulder. “That’s not how their world works.”

“God, you sound like Angie.”

Ainsley gasped, a hand flying to her heart as if I’d wounded her. “Never compare me to your mother again. That woman is batshit crazy. Nothing she says makes any sense, and I know what the hell I’m talking about.” She held up a cute T-shirt, and I nodded, so she slung it over her arm. “There are worse things than school uniforms.”

She had a point. In the scope of things, being forced to wear a uniform was really a first world problem. If I was going to get into Hamilton University, I needed to put my focus on my grades, not what I was wearing. It was one less thing to worry about. I wouldn’t have to wonder how everyone else would be dressed and how far out of place I’d look.

All those designer jeans my mother had slapped on Steven’s credit card would continue to collect dust in my closet. I refused to wear them.

Stubborn? Maybe.

Probably.

Ainsley and I left the store with a single pair of jeans she’d decided to splurge on. It was close to one in the afternoon as we stepped out onto Walnut Street, the sun warming my skin. Downtown Elmwood was bustling with people rushing to get their last-minute back-to-school shopping done. My stomach growled at the smell of food from the local vendors, reminding me that I had skipped breakfast—unless coffee counted as one of the food groups.

“Do you have time to grab something eat?” I asked as we came upon a casual restaurant with sidewalk seating. “I’m craving a burger.”


Tags: J.L. Weil Elite of Elmwood Romance