I hit a little more traffic than expected, so about forty minutes later, I pull up across the street from Grace’s prep school. And damn, it is a lot nicer than my public one. Prominent is the word that comes to mind. Green vines climb the outside of a sweeping, historical stone building, complete with two lion statues guarding the entrance.
Stepping out of my car, I hear the faint sound of a bell ringing and a few seconds later, uniformed students file down the front steps, some of them chatting with others, most of them looking at their phones. No one plays loud music, there are no fights breaking out, like there would be at my school. Just the calm, cool, collected future millionaires of America.
I shake off the cloying sense that I don’t belong here and search for Grace among the crowd. First I see Collier and another guy I recognize from that night at the Hellmouth. They’re laughing with some girls, taking pictures on their phones. I’m pleased to see Collier is still sporting purple rings around his eyes, but my attention is dragged quickly in another direction when Grace walks out of the building and the organ in my chest starts to pound wildly.
She’s alone.
Books cradled to her chest.
Oh Jesus, that school uniform.
That little plaid skirt and knee socks.
I can’t believe she changes out of it before coming to my house every day. Maybe she doesn’t want to remind me of our economic differences? It would have been worth it. My cock is stiff as a brick watching that hem tease the middle of her thighs. Jesus. I’m so hot for her, I’m almost dizzy. But I’m not so aroused that I can’t be concerned about what I’m seeing.
Part of me likes that she’s alone.
A huge part of me wants her to talk to no one but me. I’m her everything.
Apparently that part of me is a possessive asshole.
Grace casts her friends a self-conscious glance and walks the opposite direction. They openly ignore her. Because of me? Is she a loner now because I took her home that night? Are they cutting her out of their lives because she’s dating me?
That possibility causes a pang in my throat.
I’m bad for her in a lot of ways, aren’t I?
She’s lost her social circle. No matter how many fights I win, I’ll probably never be able to afford a yacht or summers in the Maldives or a townhouse in Beacon Hill.
I fuck her like an animal. Leave marks on her body, her voice hoarse from screaming.
We’ve got this twisted little dynamic that I don’t know how to stop—and probably couldn’t if I tried. Don’t know if it’s healthy for her, the way I cast my obsession over her like a net, day in and day out. Trapping her. Consuming her.
I want to do those things right now.
Want her writhing and whimpering and focused one thousand percent on me.
It’s like my thoughts traveled across the road and whispered themselves in her ear, because suddenly Grace looks up, her entire face brightening. Her mouth moving to form my name silently. And shit, if my heart was pounding before, it’s slamming in a frenzy now in the face of her pure joy. Joy from seeing me.
As if carried on the wind, she starts toward me, but I shake my head, pointing at an upscale apartment building across the street. While circling the block to find a spot for my car, I noticed the small park around back of the structure. I head there now, watching Grace do the same, slipping out of the sea of uniforms and crossing the road. She gets there first and I jerk my chin toward the rear of the building, where we’ll be out of sight of the school. No way I’m running the risk of getting her into trouble. I have this chance in my back pocket now, this fight against Colleti, and I’m especially not compromising my relationship with Grace when there’s a shot at offering her some security. A future.
As soon as we’re behind the building and out of view of the street, Grace drops her books and turns, throwing her arms around my neck. My arms encircle her, too, lifting her off the ground and twirling her in a circle. “Oh God, beauty. Baby. I missed you,” I groan, dropping kisses all over her beautiful face. On her forehead, lips and cheeks. “Every fucking second away from you is torture.”
“I know,” she whimpers, snuggling closer, sucking at my neck, rubbing her tight body on mine, swelling my cock to full mast. “I know. I know. The day is too long. I just stare at the clock waiting until I can come see you.” Her breath catches. “I thought I was dreaming when I saw you across the street.”
“You’re not, Gracie,” I rasp, slanting my mouth over hers, tasting, savoring. “I’m here. I had to come tell you something. I couldn’t wait.”
She leans back, face flushed. Curious. “What is it?”
“Remember that manager I mentioned? He got me a fight.” I take a moment to savor the anticipation. If I do this right, if I give this fight everything I’ve got, this will be the first of many times I tell Grace something to make her proud of me. I fucking crave that chance. “Next Friday. At the Garden.”
“At the…” She sobs a sound. “At the Garden? Oh my God, North. Is that…I mean, that has to be huge.”
“If I win, yeah. And I will win.” I back her against the building, my mouth locked with hers, our foreheads pressed tightly together. “I’ve got you to fight for.”
“North…”
“Will you be there? Will you come and sit in the front row?”
“Of course I will. But you don’t have to fight for me,” she whispers. “You have me.”
“Yeah. I have you, don’t I, beauty?” I slide my hands up beneath the back of her plaid skirt, cupping her smooth ass cheeks in my hands, lifting her between me and the wall. “Now I have to keep you. Protect you. Make you happy and safe and wanting for nothing. That’s what a Daddy does for his girl, isn’t it, Gracie?”
I have to catch her resulting moan with my mouth.
She gets so goddamn hot when we play like this.
It’s horny and twisted, but she creams the hardest when we give in to our roles, so I can’t stop bringing it here. I don’t want to. It makes me come like I’m dying. “This skirt of yours is too fucking short,” I growl against her mouth. “You might as well be ringing a dinner bell.”
“It’s regulation length,” she breathes, heavy-lidded. Excited.
“Is that right, little girl? Well feel what the length of your skirt did to the length of my cock.” I yank her knees up around my hips, grinding her against the side of the building, bulge against panties, watching her mouth open in a silent scream. “I’m starting to think you enjoy the way I punish you.” I drag my tongue from her neck to her ear. “Do you like the way it feels now when we do bad things, baby? Is that why this skirt is short enough to see your sweet little asshole if you bend over?”
She can’t stay still now.
She’s squirming between me and the wall, trying to get some friction on my dick. “Please. Please.”
“Please what?” I mash my mouth against her ear. “Please put your come in me, Daddy?”
“Yes.”
My hands mold her backside roughly, the pad of my index fingers finding her puckered back entrance and pressing. “Is that what you thought of this morning when you rolled up your dirty little skirt? Did you know I’d end up making the insides of your thighs sticky?”