She leans hard into me, her lips moving over mine, challenging me. Her denial and my lust mingle with our breaths, creating something explosive between us. My hand moves north and grips the back of her head. I drag her closer. She gasps and pushes closer, loving this even as she fights me. Her tongue battles against mine, and my hand tangles in her silky blonde hair.
I can’t get enough of her. She’s fucking addictive. My other hand grips her waist in a tight hold. I need more, and I know she’s willing to fight me and give everything to me.
My knob’s about to burst through my trousers, and I know she feels me with the way she’s pushed herself up against me. I don’t need the sink to stop her from leaving because she isn’t going anywhere. She’s into this as much as I am.
This moment is abruptly shattered by the thunderous crash of the bathroom door being kicked open, and instinctively, I shove the girl protectively behind me. The room floods with blinding light as campus feds storm in, their voices commanding us to stay put.
My eyes widen in shock, and I sense the girl behind me scrambling to compose herself, her heart pounding against her ribcage. A surge of defensiveness washes over me, compelling me to shield this vulnerable creature from whatever threat looms before us.
“What the fuck is the meaning of this?” I demand, my anger boiling over as I stand tall.
Two men come forward, forcefully pulling me away from her. Every fiber of my being screams to resist, but I know it would be futile.
I steal a glance at Eve. Despite the chaos unfolding around us, she doesn't wear the look of a frantic, scared woman; instead, there's a stoic resolve in her expression, tinged with a hint of annoyance. There’s something about her. She has more spunk than she lets up behind that innocent, angelic demeanor she puts up in public.
I was right all along about her. She's just as wild and unpredictable as I am, but she cloaks herself in the facade of societal norms and expectations. Behind the veneer of sophistication and social status lies a woman unafraid to embrace the chaos within.
As I’m cuffed and pulled away, the need to know more about her persists. “This isn’t over,” I warn her just as I’m shoved out of the bathroom.
Chapter 2
As soon as Isaw that low-life gangster, the orchestrator of this debauchery, approach Byron, I knew he was trouble. I’ve seen assholes like him, my high school had an entire gang of thugs, and I’m pretty sure they produce them in the thousands all over the world. They like to party hard and push their product even harder. I knew what this event was as soon as I saw the strips of white powder neatly lined up on three tables and glass bowls filled with an array of pills greeting me like a twisted buffet. This wasn't just a party; it was a drug-sampling event, a blatant attempt to lure in new customers.
Anger boiled within me as this wasn’t the scene I aimed to be involved with. I’m an athlete on a scholarship, but Eve and the girls stomped ahead of us into the house, grabbing drinks, bypassing the substance section, and heading to the quieter area of the kitchen.
But it was a while ago, and right now, as I walk through the rooms, my mind fills with concern as I search for both Byron and Eve. She said earlier she needed some air, and even though I said I would accompany her, she put her hand on my chest and said she was fine.
My roommate, Byron, and I ran into her and her girl crew on our way to this party. He initially had no interest in coming tonight, but I convinced him that if Eve wasn’t here, we’d leave. I’ve had my eye on that vision from the moment I saw her waiting by the docks next to her three large luggage for the ferry to collect us and bring us to this island.
Her eyes are brighter than the clearest summer sky, a piercing blue that seems to hold the secrets of the universe. And her hair... cascading waves of light blonde silk, framing her delicatefeatures like a crown of golden sunshine.
The fact that we’re the only two Americans at this exclusive college gives me that extra footing with her because, regarding everything else, she and I come from two different worlds. Eve Winters comes from upper-crust affluence, and in her eyes, I’m just some jock from the Midwest on a sports scholarship. Technically, I have no business playing in these crowds of royalty and multi-billionaires. But I’ve been talking with her all night, and she definitely doesn’t come off as some stuck-up bitch.
Back home, as a star quarterback, I had girls at abundance, but I wasn’t some cocky dickhead looking for cheap lays. My focus was always on the game.
It still is.
But differently.
None that I care to explain, least of all to anyone here.
But my point is that it had to take someone like Eve to stop me in my tracks and slow me down to appreciate the beauty before me.
And judging from her IG profile, she’s single.
Byron has been my roommate for the last ten or so hours. We all arrived on this island early this morning, and we’ve been busy getting settled in and signing up for the different orientation events going on for the next two weeks until classes start.
The seriousness of what we’ve all signed up for the next three years settled in the moment we arrived at this private, elite college.
Especially for me, because I’m here expecting to represent the college in the next Olympics and I first need to meet the trials. If I don’t perform, they’ll be shipping my ass back home, and there’s no damn way I’m returning to the small town I was dying to escape from. It’s this or enlisting. I’m not keen to be a soldier, but I’ll avoid going home and settling down as some ranch helper.
My roommate, Byron, is the epitome of quiet confidence. He’s been at Hawthornes for a year and mentioned that he spent two years traveling abroad prior to attending here, which, considering he's my age, means he finished school a good three years ahead of me.
He's likely one of those rare geniuses, perhaps even a member of Mensa, given his precocious achievements. Judging by his reaction to my chaotic unpacking of dumping everything on my bed and the meticulous organization of his side of the room, it's possible he also has a touch of OCD.
Although reserved and reluctant to join me, I didn’t need to convince him as much as I initially thought.
Byron also warned not to get involved with Eve and her three friends.