Page 22 of Lords of the Campus

My toes curl as he starts thrusting rapidly. “Oh, God!” I moan, so wet it’s dripping onto the bed underneath me. “Fuck! Harder!”

Zane complies, hips snapping into mine roughly, fingers leaving bruising marks on my hips as he takes me hard, my body craving more.

“Oh, fuck, I’m… I’m close,” I say, more tears spilling out as I anticipate the moment that Zane will pull away, will leave me high and dry and aching for release.

But he keeps going, keeps moving his hips. “Stop, I’m too close!” I say, panic rising when Zane won’t slow down or pull away.

“Come for us,” Archer says, turning my chin in his hand to face him, to look him in the eyes. Zane’s hips snap into mine once more and the tight hold starts to snap, my release flooding me so hard that my eyes roll back in my head and my body feels like it’s almost on fire.

I think I might scream, I’m not sure, but when I’m finally down from the high, I notice the three of them are cleaning up and they toss me my clothes.

“We have a party tonight,” Zane says. “You should probably leave.”

My body freezes, going hot and cold all at once. I manage to hide the hurt in my expression and nod.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I say, my voice sounding a little too high-pitched. “I have stuff to do.”

Every step feels slow and sluggish as I descend the stairs of the house and I feel eyes on me from the other brothers, murmuring words that I only catch snippets of, like “slut” and “easy”.

It’s my own fault. I know that I mean nothing to them, but I let myself get caught up in the sex. I’ve gotten too attached already.

This can’t go on.

I need to confront them at some point and put an end to all this before everything gets worse.

12

ARCHER

As I stand at the sink, scrubbing the remnants of last night’s party from the stack of dirty dishes, the warm water and soap bubbles feel good on my hands, but they do little to ease the knot of anger twisting in my gut.

Despite the sex after the car wash, I still can’t shake the bitterness that’s taken root inside. Lyric has lied so many times and hidden so much from us. She kept the fact that she had a kid from us! What the hell else is she hiding?

I rinse a plate and set it on the drying rack, my mind replaying the moments we shared with her. The way she moved under us, the desperation in her eyes, the tears that leaked out as she pleaded for release. All I wanted was to feel in control with Lyric, but it’s not enough. It will never be enough to erase the past.

I pick up another dish, scrubbing harder than necessary. Memories of the past come flooding back. How she betrayed us when she turned on us in high school, the way she ruined our lives. It feels like we were starting to get even, making her pay for the thing she did. But now, with this new revelation, it feels like we’re right back where we started.

The water sloshes around as I rinse the plates off. We all know things can’t go on like this. We need answers and we need to figure out what to do next. But every time I think about confronting her, I can’t get past the bitterness. I don’t know if I can ever forgive her, not after everything we’ve been through.

I finish the last dish and dry my hands, taking a deep breath to steady myself. I know I need to talk to her, to get everything out in the open. But the thought of facing her, of seeing the guilt in her eyes, makes my chest tighten. I don’t know if I’m ready for that. Some long-buried part of me wants nothing more than to drop this whole thing and move past it, let Lyric back in our lives, and reclaim what we once had.

But I know that’s impossible.

I turn off the tap and head upstairs, intending to grab my books to go to the library, but I’m distracted by a text alert. When I pick it up, a scowl grows on my face.

We need to talk – Lyric

I can’t believe she thinks we have anything to say to her right now. But I fumble with my phone, sending a text back before my brain can catch up.

You have five minutes.

I want to know what she thinks there is to discuss. Within a few minutes, I hear her footsteps on the stairs and then a soft knock at my door alerts me to the fact that she’s arrived.

Pushing the door open with my foot, I turn in my desk chair and stare at her, raising a single eyebrow.

“What?” I ask, crossing my arms.

Lyric runs her hands through her messy curls and bites her lip, eyes darting around the room as if to gather her thoughts.

---