Dulce

I nod as his laughter stops.

“My twin brother, Cain.”

“Ah, figures. Damn, God was in a giving mood the day you two were conceived,” I mutter. I know he heard me though when his grin turns predatory.

“If you want—”

The office door opens, and a pale-looking Miss Smith steps out without acknowledging us. She looks a lot less peppy than before she went in.

Her clothes don’t look in disarray, and she has no marks on her, so I doubt he hurt her. Nevertheless, I feel like something happened in that office besides her wanting to have grumpy here reprimanded.

My gaze moves to the man walking out behind her as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his forearms.

Be still, my beating heart. There is nothing sexier than a little arm porn in the morning.

“Right, Mr. Eveson, I believe you should be in class. Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want me to find you here again before the week is out.”

His voice takes on a lethal edge, which would make a sane girl run. Apparently, I’m more of the live-dangerously-and-drop-on-all-fours kind of girl.

Grumpy, aka Eveson, stands and shrugs his bag over his shoulder. He grunts out a “sir” before leaving.

“Right. Miss Sinclair, come to my office while I find your transcripts.”

I pick up my bag and sashay into Aslanov’s office.

I can feel his eyes on my ass as I walk, making me grin. This assignment is going to be a piece of cake.

I drop my bag, intending to turn, when I find myself bent over and pinned to the desk by Aslanov’s hand, which is now wrapped around my neck.

I could break free in seconds, but I’m curious what this bear of a man has planned. I guess, for now, that makes me Goldilocks.

Leaning over me with his rock-hard body pressed against mine and his lips a whisper from my ear, he says, “I know who you are, little lamb. How very brave of you to wander into the lion’s den.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir, and I don’t think this is acceptable behavior.” I was going for stern, but much to my annoyance, it comes out more simpering airhead.

I usually show more restraint. Okay, that’s a lie. I usually hide it better, but it’s hard to concentrate when I can feel a very hard cock pressing against my ass. To use the Goldilocks reference once more, it’s not too small, not too big. It would fit me just right.

He squeezes my neck a little tighter.

“For almost a year, you were seen on the arm of Griffen Young, Edward Young’s punk-ass son, before Edward gets arrested. And all of a sudden, you disappear. Coincidence?”

My heart thumps wildly for a minute before I see where he’s going with this.

“I’m many things, Mr. Aslanov, but I’m not a snitch, if that’s what you’re implying. I’m also not stupid. Why would I keep my star tied to a man whose life was unraveling at the seams?”

“Ah, that’s right. Loyalty means nothing to your generation.”

“If that’s what you think, that’s your prerogative. But just for shits and giggles, you should know Griffen couldn’t spell loyalty if you asked him to. He can spell Tanya, Lisa, Becky, Louisa, Jenny. I was not his girlfriend. I was one of many.”

I swallow, ignoring that fucking stab in my chest again.

“Only fools fall on their sword protecting a person with no honor.”

Shit, I didn’t mean to add that last part. It’s not something my character Everly would say.

Releasing his grip on me, he pulls me up and shoves me into the chair in front of the desk before looming over me.

“I don’t trust you.”

I shrug as if I couldn’t give a fuck.

“Why would that matter? I’m just a girl trying to turn my life around.”

He swallows before taking a step back.

“Right.” He drags the word out, adding so much disdain I almost snort.

Sitting on the edge of his desk, he crosses his arms as he glares at me.

“Willow Creek is not your average academy. For a chunk of its inhabitants, it’s their last chance to straighten themselves out, to find a way to claw themselves out from under their parent’s shadows. Others are here against their will.”

He lets that drop and waits for my reaction, but I do nothing more than raise my eyebrow at him.

“Think of it as a mix of an intervention, a rehab facility, and a detention center for the morally flawed.”

“Aren’t we all morally flawed?” I question, wondering why none of this turned up in Sugar’s search of the place. Unless it did, and she downplayed it. Damn that woman.

He naturally doesn’t answer my question. There might be a cure for the way I lose my head around him—his personality. He’s a condescending asshole who could, in all fairness, be a sex trafficker and…damn. Nope. I still want to fuck him. On the flip side, I would have no qualms about gutting him afterward.

“How does that work out with living and sleeping arrangements? Sounds to me like you have the school split into two sections—the misguided and the downright dangerous.”

“Aren’t we all a little misguided, a little dangerous?” His eyes twinkle as he mimics my question from before.

I return the favor he gave me by not answering. Ha, stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Sex-on-a-stick.

“I don’t segregate anyone. Well, one group is kept a little away from the others, but repeat offenders need a little extra…work,” he adds thoughtfully, and I can’t help but wonder what he means by work.

Time to rein it in a little.

“Look, Mr. Aslanov, I didn’t know what Griffen’s dad was into. I just wanted to party and have some fun. But in a way, it was a wake-up call. I just want to put my head down, do the work, and get the grades I need to be something other than what I am now.”

“Oh, and what, pray tell, Miss Sinclair, is that?”

“Stuck,” I answer without thought. I’m surprised as shit to realize it’s the truth, and I can tell he realizes it too.

I change the subject before he can ask me anything else. “How many dorms do you have here?”

“Twelve in total. All of them are mixed except two. Unfortunately, if you have a preference for a single-sex room, you are out of luck. They go pretty quickly, and since you’re joining mid-semester, you’ve missed your chance.”

I wave him off, not fazed by who I share with. Both sexes are annoying when I want to be left alone, but it is what it is.

“It’s fine. Seems kind of counterproductive, though. If everyone here is a troublemaker, then mixing girls and boys is like giving a kid a candy bar and telling them not to eat it.”

“Keeping you all apart just makes it an even bigger temptation. But you’re missing the point. Where does it say that I’m out to discourage anyone from having sexual relations? It’s not my life they fuck up if they don’t use protection. Almost everyone here is over eighteen.”

He looks me over when he says this, and there is nothing professional about the way his eyes linger on my chest or lips.

I twist my hair and smile coyly. He grunts and stands, moving around the other side of his desk and sitting in his chair.

He taps something on the computer, waits for it to do its thing, and taps some more.

“As I’m sure you know, a troublemaker doesn’t mean you’re stupid, just reckless. A lot of it can come from boredom. Here, let’s just say boredom is not something you’ll need to worry about.”

The printer flares to life in the corner, churning out a couple of sheets of paper before turning silent once more. Aslanov grabs them and hands them to me.

I grip them, but he doesn’t let them go, his eye catching mine.