ChapterSix
Soren
Ivan’s death comes as a shock for us all, sure, but it’s nothing that can’t be swept eagerly under the rug. As soon as it’s labeled a tragedy, life resumes as usual, topics of conversation shifting as swiftly as the tides of the ocean.
Among a gaggle of girls gathered around the exit of the mess hall stands an irritated-looking Alex. My smirk deepens as I approach, lifting my chin high as I knock the shoulder of a passing boy. Some kid with braces, I guess, who isn’t watching where he’s going. The way he scoffs prompts a razor-sharp glance from me that sends him skittering off with his friends.
Dulcet voices carry over the thrum of foot traffic, one of the girls catching Alex by the shoulder before she can slip away. “Seriously? Come on. Who wouldn’t want the attention of Parker Somerville?”
She shakes the girl off. “Me.”
“I don’t get it,” the girl says with a nervous laugh. “You would be set up for life.”
“Not when I’m being humiliated.”
One of the other girls steps forward with a sly grin. “Only a shit for brains wouldn’t appreciate such an honor.”
The way she squints at Alex inspires my pace to quicken. I’m close enough to join their group, but I’m curious what Alex might do, so I hang back.
When the girl steps back, Alex arches her right brow, slim fingers curled tightly around the strap of her backpack. “I guess I have shit for brains, then.”
“Ms. Alex.” My voice cuts through the gaggle and prompts every one of those little girls to turn toward me.
Except for the one I want looking at me.
Alex blinks rapidly, working her jaw side to side as she refuses to gaze in my direction. The other girls are head over fucking heels—as they should be—and flock toward me.
I raise a hand, prompting them to pause. It’s just so easy to control them. Why can’t I control Alex yet? “Heard you got your tires slashed.”
She meets my gaze at the comment, irises burning with heat. “How’d you hear about that?”
“A little bird told me.” My grin widens. “Let me give you a ride home.”
Resistance dances on the edge of her tongue. I watch the plush muscle work in her mouth, her lips parted slightly as she formulates a response. After a moment, she nods. “Sure.”
“Lucky bitch,” one of the girls whispers as they drift away. A little louder, she says, “Bye, Soren!”
I wink at the group, sending them giggling away from the mess hall. When I return my focus to Alex, she shuffles from one foot to the other, twisting the strap of her bag. She doesn’t meet my gaze as she asks, “Where’s your car?”
“Over here.”
The way to my BMW is littered with penetrating gazes, curious glances, and flapping mouths. I walk a little closer to Alex and rest my hand on the small of her back, a public signal that tears through the courtyard. I have to claim her in some way. I haven’t won the fucking bid for her twat yet, but I’ll get something out of her. A blow job, a hand job, whatever—something.
I won’t lose when I finally break her in.
That’s the thing about the other guys. They think it’s all about sinking their cock into fresh twat, but it’s about more than that. My pleasure comes from the chase, from warming them up and making them think it’s all their idea. Molding Alex will be a challenge, but one I’m willing to meet with my charm and guile.
All she needs is a push in the right direction.
I click the green button on my key fob, smiling as the doors rise vertically to allow us entry. The car starts next—all without my ass even hitting the seat. I study Alex in my peripheral vision, noting the way she’s absorbed by my car. Its sleek black interior, chrome panels, multicolored buttons and delectable sound system are enough to make any panties drop.
But Alex is more complicated than that. She doesn’t go for flashy. And that’s what makes her so fucking difficult to tap. Because she’s a goddamn prude who flaunts herself like she’s a new stylish shade of black.
Once the doors settle into place, I drape my arm over the back of the passenger seat, turning to back out of the parking space. I’m careful with this baby. She’s brand new and fully capable of taking over the roads, but I’m not a senseless idiot. I take care of what’s mine.
“Now that we’re alone,” I say nonchalantly as I maneuver the car to the parking lot exit, “let me tell you exactly what I think of you.”
“Like I care.”