Ruthless Kings (Windsor Academy 2)

I love it when Kingston gazes at me with those beautiful hazels, but it's unnerving when his dad does it. Although they're identical in shape and color, the elder Davenport's eyes have a malevolent tinge. They're cold. Calculating. Looking into them, I swear I can see his complete lack of conscience—the psychopath hiding beneath the shiny surface.

“Dad. What are you doing?”

Oh, thank fuck. Kingston must’ve been coming to see what was taking so long.

Kingston’s dad turns toward his son and flashes a big smile. “I was just saying hello to your lovely girlfriend.”

Kingston’s jaw clenches. “When did you get back?”

“Just a few minutes ago, actually. I was heading to my office when I ran into Jasmine here.” Mr. Davenport looks my way and winks. “Or should I say, she ran into me?”

Kingston turns his attention to me. “Jazz, we should get going so we’re not late. Where’s Ainsley?”

I jerk my head toward the stairs. “She’s changing. Said she’d be out in a few.”

“Go ahead and wait out back with the guys. I’ll get Ains.” Kingston has some kind of weird stare-off with his father. “Dad, if you’ll excuse us, we really must be on our way.”

“Of course.” Mr. Davenport gives his son the fakest smile I’ve ever seen in my life. “Well, I won’t hold you up any longer. We can catch up on Thanksgiving, Jasmine.”

“Thanksgiving?” I frown in confusion.

“My son didn’t tell you about our Thanksgiving tradition? The Davenports and Callahans celebrate together every year.” He gives me another sleazy once over. “I’m looking forward to seeing such a beautiful addition to the head table.”

With that, he pats Kingston on the shoulder and walks away. Kingston waits until his dad is out of sight before speaking.

“Go to the pool house, Jazz.”

“What in the actual fuck, Kingston?” I whisper shout. “How could you not tell me about Thanksgiving? It’s only five days away!”

Come to think of it, why hasn’t anyone told me about it? It's not like I see Charles or Madeline that often, but I run into Ms. Williams every day.

Kingston releases a heavy sigh as if I’m exasperating. “I was going to talk to you about it tonight.”

“Well, you can count me the fuck out. I’m going to see Belle.”

Kingston grabs my hand and yanks me into his body. I absolutely do not feel him up a little or take a big whiff of his sexy cologne.

He cups the back of my head and pulls me into him. If anyone came upon us, they’d probably think we were in a loving embrace, but the anger radiating off Kingston and the tension in his body is anything but.

“We will talk about this when that bastard is not in the building, but you being a no-show is not an option. Me being a no-show is not an option. Our fathers make a big deal out of this holiday. They invite a lot of business associates. Men that I need to interact with to further our agenda.” Kingston’s other hand lands on my hip, gripping it with bruising force. “Now, go to the fucking pool house and wait with Reed and Bentley.”

"Fine." If my face wasn't smashed against his stupidly firm pecs, he'd feel the force of my glare, but since it is, I have to project it in my tone.

Kingston pulls back a little and bends his knees, so we're eye to eye. "I'm sorry for snapping, okay? When I came in here and saw him so close to you, I just..." He briefly closes his eyes. "I didn't know he was back in town. I wouldn't have left you alone in the house if I knew."

Any lingering irritation I had dissipates. “I know you wouldn’t.” I cup my hands around his jaw and pull him into me for a soft kiss. “I’ll meet you out back, okay?”

I can feel Kingston’s eyes on me the entire time I’m walking to the pool house. As I step inside the safe zone, I can’t help but think that other shoe may be dropping sooner rather than later.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

JAZZ

If you've been to one rich kid's party, you've been to them all. But if that rich kid happens to live on the beach, it's a step above the rest, in my opinion. This particular gathering has both an indoor bar as well as an outdoor bar beneath the raised deck. The second we got here, Ains and I ditched our shoes and headed down to the beach portion of the party. The guys won't let us out of their sight, but we told them we needed a little female bonding time, so they're keeping their distance.

It still trips me out how much money is spent on these things. Ainsley and I each ordered a Sex on the Beach from the hired bartender. I know it's totally cheesy, but she assured me they were delicious, and she's not wrong. I moan as I take my first sip of the peachy drink.

“God, I needed this.”