Wicked Liars (Windsor Academy 1)

My jaw drops. “I’m not doing anything! What kind of fucked up world do you live in where you can just bully someone or throw around accusations like this? Are you here on Peyton’s behalf? Does she want me gone? Is that what this is about?”

“This has nothing to do with Peyton. I don’t give a shit what she wants.”

I roll my eyes. “Wow... don’t hold your breath waiting for the Boyfriend of the Year Award.”

He scoffs. “I’m not her boyfriend and we’re all well aware of that.”

“Yeah... I really don’t think she’d agree. She seemed pretty territorial at dinner.”

Kingston’s gaze lowers to my lips for a brief moment. “Final warning, Jazz.”

I laugh mockingly. “Or what? You don’t sc—”

I’m cut off mid-sentence when his lips claim mine aggressively, his tongue demanding entrance. I gasp which gives him the opening he needs to invade my mouth. Something stirs inside of me then—something purely primitive—and before I can second guess myself, I kiss him back, hard and hot, practically branding myself on his lips.

Kingston wraps his arms around me and wedges his powerful thigh between mine. Our bodies are pressed together, all of his hard edges against my delicately soft curves. Our breaths mingle while our tongues tangle. There’s so much urgency behind this kiss, as if we’re trying to crawl inside each other. It’s hungry and ferocious. Drugging and dizzying. I had no idea a simple meeting of two peoples’ lips could be so damn potent.

Desire thrums through me as his pillowy lips carve a path down my jawline, his teeth scraping along the nape of my neck. Kingston mutters a curse and picks me up, wrapping my legs around his hips. He’s tenting his pants, grinding his erection against me.

Kingston bites the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. “You like that?”

My spine bows. “Yeah.”

He groans as his fingers slip beneath the towel, finding my hot flesh. “You want more?”

My head falls back as my eyes close. “Yeah.”

If I was capable of rational thought right now, his dark chuckle might bother me, but I can’t think at the moment—I can only feel. I’ve been so numb over the last few weeks, I latch on to this high like it’s my lifeline. I shudder when he brushes his fingers through my wetness. Groan as he inserts one long finger inside of me. Kingston’s breath hitches as he pumps his finger in and out, rubbing the heel of his palm against my clit.

I bite my bottom lip when he adds a second finger. Together, we develop a rhythm that screams of desperation and hunger. He studies my face, carefully cataloging each feature. Kingston is so perfectly in tune with my whimpers and moans—adjusting angles, pressure, and speed to deliver the most pleasure. It’s so intense, I come apart in record time. He slows his movements as I writhe against him before withdrawing completely. It’s shocking how bereft I suddenly feel as he pulls away, putting my feet back on solid ground.

When our eyes meet, he looks as stunned as I feel. His sandy hair is askew, his breathing is ragged, and his eyes are wild. There’s an obvious bulge in his slacks, but that seems to be the least of his concerns. Before I can utter a single word, Kingston marches out of my room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he’s gone, I glide down the wall, my legs too jelly-like to remain standing. As I comb my hands through my hair, I replay the last ten minutes in my head.

What in the ever-loving hell was that?

CHAPTER EIGHT

JAZZ

“What is going on with you and my brother?” Ainsley asks during lunch. “He’s been throwing shade at Peyton all morning and he won’t stop staring at you.”

I almost choke on my pasta primavera. “Nothing is going on between me and your brother.”

Ainsley gives me a skeptical look. “Jazz, seriously. Don’t tell me ‘nothing’ because my twin senses are tingling. Yesterday Kingston was a major dick to you and now he looks like he wants to jump your bones. Also, you have the fact that he’s not even trying to hide his contempt toward Peyton. What the hell happened at dinner last night?”

I shrug. “Nothing happened.”

“That’s bullshit. He wants something from you.” She pauses for a moment. “Or he already got something from you.”

I try fighting it, but I know I’m blushing. I can only hope my tanned complexion hides it. I can’t stop thinking about what happened in my closet last night. I’m no virgin, but I’m not a girl who easily jumps into bed with someone. I’ve only slept with one guy, and he was my boyfriend. The fact I allowed Kingston to touch me like that when I just met him is completely out of character for me. Why do I have to be so damn attracted to him? And why did it have to feel so good?

Ainsley gasps. “Oh my God, that’s it, isn’t it?” She leans over and lowers her voice even more. “Did you two hook up last night?”

“No, we didn’t hook up!” I whisper-shout. “Just please drop it, Ainsley.”

She looks over my shoulder. “Oh, this ought to be good.”

I turn around. “What ought to be—”