King of Hawthorne Prep
“Can I at least wear my bra?”
“Nope.”
“I hate you!” Rage bubbles up inside me.
A grin slides across his lips. “And yet, that won’t stop you from begging for my cock.” He takes off down the hall, not bothering to wait, assuming correctly that I’ll follow of my own free will.
Turn around and leave.
Austin wouldn’t want you to do this.
As if he can sense the inner turmoil swirling through my head, he raises his voice. “Don’t make me drag you to the cafeteria, Summer.”
Is this humiliation worth it?
Ultimately, yes. If I don’t do this, my brother will end up moving to Chicago. Kingsley holds even more power than I suspected. This morning, I got my first real taste of it. If he keeps his end of the agreement, Austin will be allowed to stay on the football team and in Hawthorne for the rest of senior year.
Is there anything I wouldn’t do to achieve that outcome?
No.
I fold my arms tightly across my chest and reluctantly trail after him. It feels like I’m marching to my death. With every step that brings me closer, my anxiety continues to heighten. By the time we reach the cafeteria, there aren’t any other students milling around outside the enormous room. Kingsley stops, smirking when he notices what I’m doing. “Arms down, baby girl.”
My tongue darts out to smudge my lips. It feels as if there are cotton balls stuffed in my mouth. How can he be this cruel? “King—”
He shakes his head before eating up the distance between us until we stand toe to toe. His forehead touches mine before he grabs my wrists and physically lowers them to my sides. “Nonnegotiable, remember?”
I want to scream.
Our gazes clash as he reaches out, locking his forefingers and thumbs around the tips of my breasts. He teases my nipples until they stiffen into hard little points that poke insistently against the white fabric.
“Stop,” I groan, simultaneously loving and hating how he’s torturing me.
He gives each breast a painful tweak before releasing them. “Now everyone will get an eyeful of those pretty little titties.”
Asshole!
How can my body be so traitorous?
He steps away, looking completely unaffected. “Are you ready?”
No. With a glare, I remain stoically silent.
Fuck him.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Not giving me a chance to escape, he snakes his arm around my waist and steers me into the cafeteria. People turn and stare, but no one utters a sound. My face heats until it feels like I might self-combust.
Actually, that would be more preferable than enduring this hell.
He maneuvers us to the table he’s been sitting at since the first day of school. Over the last week and a half, a social hierarchy has emerged in the lunchroom. This table, along with Kingsley and his friends, seems to be the epicenter. Everything fans out from here with the outer rings hugging the perimeter. One seat remains open.
As we approach the table, his friends fall silent. They stare at me before shifting their curious gazes to Kingsley. After a few moments, the swell of conversation picks up again as if I’m not standing here in a shirt that claims me as property. Kingsley looks down at the guy I recognize as the ringleader from yesterday’s locker fiasco.
Jasper the asshole.
“Move over,” The dark-haired boy next to me orders.
Jasper turns glaring eyes on me before begrudgingly sliding over another seat. When Kingsley settles on the bench, I do the same before setting down my paper bag.
As soon as my butt hits the smooth wood, he asks the table at large, “Is it cheeseburgers today?”
The guy across from him wraps his hands around a massive burger loaded with the works before raising it to his mouth and taking a bite. “Yup and it’s fucking delicious,” he says around a mouthful of masticated meat.
“Hmmm.” Kingsley stares across the cafeteria as he considers his meal options. “All right, that sounds good. I’ll also have fries, a side salad with ranch, an orange, and a lemon-lime Gatorade.”
I glance around, wondering if there’s an invisible waitstaff I’m unaware of. All the chatter and good-natured ribbing dies away as the guys stare at me expectantly.
What?
No way.
My wide gaze shifts to Kingsley. All it takes is one look at the way his lips are twisted into an arrogant smile along with the malicious glint filling his eyes to realize that it’s exactly what he’s expecting.
Bastard!
“You have to be joking,” I growl.
“Do you need me to repeat the order?”
I gnash my teeth together before shooting to my feet. There’s no point in arguing with him. Kingsley hasn’t relented one damn bit this morning, and he certainly isn’t going to do it if I challenge him in front of his douchebag friends. For the moment, I’m stuck doing his bidding.
Without a word, I storm toward the lunch line and take my place at the end of it. Even though people haven’t been gawking, I fold my arms self-consciously across my chest. Kingsley can kiss my ass.