Forever Golden: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Prep Book 3), Rachel Jonas [reading books for 6 year olds .TXT] 📗

scared for you, but… I’m glad you did it,” I confess. “You were right. He needed to know you’re not his bitch.”

My phrasing makes him laugh and it rumbles through his chest and mine where I’m resting on top of him.

“You’ve got a way with words. You know that?” He rasps, lifting my chin until our lips touch once, then a second time. “And if I’m being honest… it makes me fucking want you.”

I breathe him in as both my palms sink into the mattress beside him. He’s locked between my legs, where I feel the truth in what he just said—he does fucking want me.

Heat from his fingers streaks up my torso where they disappear beneath my tank. Our impatience has us pulling at each other’s clothes—him tugging the straps of my bra down before finally unclasping it, me only bothering to shove his boxers and sweats down to his knees before pausing just long enough for him to slip on a condom. Then, I lower down onto him and it’s so obvious that we need this, need each other.

The green centers of West’s eyes leave me when they roll back in his head half a second before his lids close. We were too hasty to take precautions like turning on the radio to avoid Scar hearing us, which means I’ll have to keep my voice down—easier said than done when it comes to him.

“Slow down,” he warns in a breathy whisper. “Or I swear, you’re gonna be real fucking disappointed in about thirty seconds.”

Smiling, I ignore him, deciding to take my chances and ride him harder and faster than before.

“Fuck,” he groans, sinking his fingers deeper into my hips. “I mean it, Southside. Slow down.”

Like before, I pay his warning no attention.

The rhythmic creaking of my ancient box-spring is probably loud enough to be heard down the hall, but I’m almost there, too close to care. And I’m only taken closer when heat from West’s hands warms my tits. He grips them rough, making my nipples harden against his palms.

“Shit.”

That one whispered word seems to send him a message, lets him know I only need to be pushed a little. So, that’s what he does—pushes the right buttons, says the right things, until I swear he’s inside my head.

“I fucking love you,” he groans, sending my heartrate soaring when he adds, “And I love it when you come for me.”

Air breezes over my lips now that I’m panting, letting those words carry me over the edge. One of his hands leaves my chest to cover my mouth half a second before his name is on my lips. Then, without warning, he succumbs to the moment, too.

That vein in his forehead throbs so hard it looks like it’ll explode this time. Then, as his eyes slam shut and perfect white teeth sink into his bottom lip, I finally give him the slow ride he begged for. I don’t have his eyes again until I stop, gently resting on top of him while my breathing syncs with his.

It’s in this moment, when he locks his powerful arms around me, reminding me that I’m his and no one else’s, that my thoughts are confirmed.

I need him. In every way, I need him.

This boy who used to drive me insane is now somehow my sanity.

I place a kiss in the center of his chest and I’m trying not to let it all get to me, but I feel more fucking tears coming and it only makes me angry. Why can’t life just give me a break for once? All I want is to have a chance at something real with him, without all the drama and bullshit. We made it so far, and I hate not knowing what’s ahead for us.

It’s right when I feel myself losing the battle with the water pooling in my eyes that a hard knock at my bedroom door has both West and I scrambling for our clothes.

“Shit.”

“Blue! OMG! Have you not seen your phone?”

Scar’s question has my heart racing again. Because, historically speaking, surprises that come through on social media send my life into a spiral.

“Where the fuck is it?” West whispers from somewhere behind me. “I don’t know where the condom wrapper went.”

I’m zero help, because I’ve just tripped over my own feet, trying to dive onto the bed for my bra. We’re both near hysterics, fumbling around like half-drunk idiots, and Scar’s banging her fist against the door nonstop now.

“Coming!” I call out, hopping back into the stretch pants West tossed to my desk.

I glance back at him quickly just to make sure he’s dressed and ready, then whip the door open.

Scar gives me a once over as I push a shaky hand through my hair, trying to straighten it. Next, her gaze shifts to West as he sits a bit too staged in the chair at my desk. She eyes me again when her cheeks turn bright red, and I know she knows.

Shit. Of course, she does.

“Anyway,” she says with a dramatic eye roll. “Look!”

Her phone screen is shoved right in my face and I’m not immediately sure what I’m looking at. All I see is Pandora’s icon, but it isn’t until I start to scan the update that I realize what Scar’s so worked up about.

“She’s been hacked!” Scar screeches with excitement.

West goes for his phone and I know he’s devouring the same info that I am and, for the first time probably ever, Pandora’s getting a dose of her own medicine.

This war of words just got so much deeper, and if I know Pandora, she’ll only strike back harder next time.

@QweenPandora: Looks like your operation isn’t as airtight as you thought, bitch. A few clicks of the mouse and your ass is getting exposed.

Poking around in your DMs was quite eye-opening. With all the shit you expose, people would never guess the gems you hold onto. Which begs the question—why lay some of Cypress Pointe’s population’s shit bare and