Ruthless Secrets (Elites of Macedon High 2)

Chapter Seven

Alex

The Somerville mansion feels less welcoming than the daisy-speckled invitation that Paulina saw fit to send my mother and me. It feels strange walking up the steps with my mother at my side, knowing that this place might become my next prison—but I do my best to ignore those thoughts as I wander into the foyer.

Paulina welcomes us both with an air kiss on each cheek. She knows how to outdo herself socially, almost to the point of nausea, which is an opinion I seem to share with my mother. Considering how little we share with each other, it’s strange to find such solidarity. But I lean into it as we wander into the den.

While Paulina steals my reluctant mother away from me, Parker wraps an arm around my shoulders and walks me into an adjoining study. Books line the shelves that decorate every wall with cherubic angels painted on the ceiling in a style fashioned after the Renaissance.

I play with the sleeves of my black sweater, tugging them over my fingers before crossing my arms over my chest. I’m inspecting the paintings and antique furniture when Parker says, “We’re at risk.”

My eyes flit to him. “What? From who?”

“An outsider.”

“Can you tell me more?”

His jaw tenses, and then he shakes his head while avoiding my gaze. “The only thing I can tell you is that Amos double-crossed your father.”

A frown takes over my lips. Of course Amos did something like that. The more I get to know the creep, the more his personality rises to the surface like oil in water. It can’t dissolve, so it settles on the surface, revealing its distinctly dirty nature for the world to see.

Except no one else can see how Amos is aside from me.

“Tell me what he’s done to you,” Parker demands in a low voice. His eyes remain hooked on one of the antique chairs, but I can tell he’s concerned, the twitching muscle in his temple revealing his true feelings. “I want to know everything.”

My throat tightens as I pinch my lips shut. Why the hell would he want to hear those filthy details?

“Alex,” he states firmly. He looks at me to punctuate the syllables leaving his tongue, green eyes shimmering like stones in my direction. “We have to get married.”

I shake my head. “We don’t have to do shit.”

“So, you want to be vulnerable forever? Is that it?”

I tighten my arms across my chest. A hot wave of anxiety crashes over my shoulders as I turn away from him. “I didn’t say that.”

“I’ve also heard you’ve been screwing around with the other guys without my permission.”

“I’m not an object you can possess, Parker.”

He takes my waist, fingers digging into the flesh around my hips while he whispers heatedly into my ear, “I won’t tolerate sharing after we’re married, so it better stop, Alexandra.”

Hearing my full name on his lips, even if it’s accompanied by a command, makes me tremble in all the wrong ways—but it feels right too. I hate how he can rule my body with a few simple words. It’s absolute madness.

“Why do you all talk about me to one another?” I ask, bracing myself against the shelf in front of me. He’s pressing his weight into me and I can feel him hardening beneath his jeans, breath coasting in ragged waves over my neck. “Do you share tips on how to get me off?”

He growls while flipping me around, mounting my hips to the shelf. “You will honor our vows after we’re married. Is that clear?”

Denying him will only worsen whatever punishment he has in store. Despite the threat in his voice, I can’t help the slight buck of my hips when he draws close to my lips.

“Show me your loyalty,” he commands. “Get on your knees and blow me.”

“No.”

A shiver races through my spine when he meets my gaze. The furious mastery of his reactions impresses me. Parker is always painted as the loose cannon, the guy who goes absolutely apeshit whenever he doesn’t get his way. But that’s not him at all. He’s a calculated, cold motherfucker who uses his brute strength to get what he wants.

And right now, I can tell that he’s thinking about how to get what he wants.

The smile that crooks his lips speaks of victory, not pleasure. He slides to the ground, holding my gaze steady as he unbuttons my jeans. He shucks my pants from my hips, coils his fingers around my panties, and then yanks them up, causing the front of them to rub against my swollen clit.