Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
…Okay, and if we’re being honest here, there’s a chance I’ve let my eyes linger on Porter more than few times. Many times, actually. About as many times as he’s crept into my darkest, dirtiest dreams, actually. Which I can say, has made sitting in his class in the front row right in front of the hottest teacher at school more than a little… fidgety.
I wave both Kara and Ramona off. “Hey, I didn’t come here for Beckett Truman. Let’s find drink—”
“Well now might be your chance.”
“Huh?” I frown as I glance back at Kara, who just grins at me.
“Your chance to hook up.”
“Kara, I don’t—”
“Because he’s walking over here right now.”
Shit.
I whirl back, and my heart jumps into my throat. My core tightens, and when those blue eyes pierce right into mine as he effortlessly moves his six-foot-four frame through the crowd, heat pools between my legs. I glance back and notice Kara and Ramona melting away into the party, and when I turn back, I gasp as I see the heat in Beckett’s eyes only burn fiercer as he marches right for me.
Right for me, jaw pulled into a smug, gorgeous grin, and a hunger blazing in his eyes that has me hot, trembling, and wet.
The school’s Queen is about to come face-to-face with the King.
Let the games begin.
2
Beckett
When I see her, the same thing happens that always happens when my eyes land on Kempton Carlisle. My pulse quickens, my hands tighten to fists, my jaw clenches. A fire burns through my veins, a devil roars up inside of me. My cock thickens to steel between my thighs, and my balls ache for release.
And this happens every fucking time I see her. It has for years, and tonight is no exception. I didn’t expect to see her here. Hell, I honestly didn’t except to see anyone from school here. Although, I guess Kara Lowe being here makes some sense, seeing as it’s her brother Justin’s party. Justin and my adopted brother and best friend, Porter, go way back. They were both at Winchester together back when I was a kid. Both of them helped take the Raiders to a division title their senior year too. And then both of them went to work on Wall Street together too. Justin’s back in the area to start as VP of acquisitions for a new hedge fund. Porter’s back, oddly, hilariously, and maybe a little annoyingly, as my new fucking math teacher. I mean, the guy’s a genius, so I guess it makes sense.
And as much as I want to shit on the fact that Porter is cramping my senior year, if anything, he’s only made it better, in terms of social standing. I mean, how many seniors get to live off-campus and have a car? Normally, there’s no fucking way Winchester would allow that. But Principal Kane knows Porter from way back, and the whole damn school remembers him for being both the football hero and the guy that took our unheard-of math team to nationals. So when he asked if I’d rather live with him in my own room in his apartment downtown, and that he’d already cleared it with the school, you bet your ass I said yes.
I know, king of the school, football star, and badass rep of having my own place and car? I should be a regular fixture at parties, and the girls who throw themselves at me pretty much daily should be regular fixtures in my bed. But that ain’t the case. Not since my eyes landed on Kempton Carlisle and just fucking stuck there.
I’ve been the star of the football team since the day I landed here at Winchester. Add to that the background with my family—the dad most of my friends have seen quoted in the Wall Street Journal, the mother they’ve definitely looked up pictures of online—and I’ve been one of the hottest tickets in this school since day one. And with the fame and the status came the girls, of course. Cheerleader groupies, the daughters of socialites who’ve been taught that high school is the place to nail down a future congressman or hedge fund manager for eventual marriage. And when I was young, yeah, I let all of that bullshit pull me under. But not lately. I know this is where I’m supposed to say that I’ve shoved all that away in favor of making football my top priority, but it’s not.
It’s her. It’s been because of Kempton.
She’s eighteen, like me. Long gorgeous red hair that falls halfway down her smooth back. Blue eyes, pouty pink lips that were made to wrap around my cock. Mouthwatering tits, an ass that I’d give an arm to feel bouncing in my lap. In laymen’s terms, Kempton’s the female version of me at Winchester. Captain of the varsity cheer squad, the object of every guys fantasy, and the undisputed top of the social food chain. The queen to my king, you could say.