Page 39 of Deceit

“Hey,” I say as I walk in, kicking off my shoes before grabbing some clothes from my dresser. I fucking hate suits, and I can’t wait to get the fuck out of it.

Liam, the weird little fucker he is, loves getting dressed up. Sometimes, it’ll be a Tuesday and he’ll dress up just because it’s‘fun’. Sometimes, I swear to god, I don’t know why I’m friends with him.

“Got my dick sucked in the kitchen while the appetizers were being made,” he says casually, as his thumb continues sliding across the screen.

“Congratulations. Guy or girl this time?” I drawl sarcastically, not giving a fuck about how he got off.

He looks up from his phone and grins.

“Both.”

I let out a short chuckle as I move into the bathroom, starting up the shower before sliding inside. Liam is very proudly bisexual, at least when his parents aren’t around. They’re already disappointed in him enough, and The Brethren are very…traditional. They treat anyone who isn’t their singular version of perfect, like absolute crap. It’s fucking bullshit but unfortunately, it’s the society we were born into, trapped into.

He doesn’t seem to have an interest in dating men, though. He says he just likes to get topped every once in a while, which was more information than I needed, but he’s an oversharer. He identifies as Bisexual Heteromantic or something like that.

My shower is quick, and I throw on a pair of black sweats and a band t-shirt before I come out. Liam still hasn’t moved from his seat and when I plop down onto my bed, I turn on a movie.

“What took you so long to get back? I left after you,” he says.

“Had to drive my wife-to-be home,” I drawl out sarcastically.

Liam snickers but shakes his head.

“Man, I don’t know why you’re so pissed about marrying her. She’s easily the hottest fucking woman that’s ever set foot on this campus. I’d stick my hand in a blender just to eat that ass once,” he says, with a groan and bite of his lip.

I can’t help but laugh.

“Shut the fuck up. You have to beat men and women off with a stick on campus alone. Forget going out in public with you. You’re not hard-up for some ass.”

“Nah, but I’ve never seen a better ass than hers.”

I raise an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“You been eye fucking my wife?”

“Fiancée,” he corrects, “and fuck yes I have. She’s fucking delectable man. You need to stop the douchebag routine and benefit from this arrangement. A beautiful virgin cunt, promised to you and only you? Sign me the fuck up.”

He has a point. Something in me doesn’t like the idea, though. It’s easier to demonize her in my mind. Safer that way. I’ve always played it safe, played it smart, and I always will. A girl isn’t going to change that, I’ll slit her throat myself before I let her.

Chapter Fifteen

Ronan

I’m walking through campus, cutting through the courtyard when I hear a familiar laugh. It’s an airy sound that instantly has my heart hammering in my chest. My head whips up, landing on the woman I haven’t been able to shake from my thoughts since the moment I met her. The woman that I haven’t been able to stop obsessing over since I found out what her lips taste like.

It’s been over a week since I kissed my nephew’s fiancée in the gardens. Though I should feel bad about it, I’m just disappointed. Disappointed that it can’t happen again, disappointed that she’s going to marry Asher one day. I’m just…disappointed.

Skyla is walking with the Bartlett girl, Margret I think, and they are both cracking up laughing. Her smile is wide and so carefree, it stirs something inside me. I feel my steps faltering as I turn to face her fully. Of course, she doesn’t see me but that’s okay. I see her and fuck, I think she gets more beautiful every time I do.

They start walking closer to me and I’m about to turn to head back to my office when a guy steps in front of them, forcing Skyla to crash into him. He catches her easily, smiling down at her in a way that makes me want to break his fucking jaw.

I recognize him as Will Stroughton’s son. Little prick is who he is, and one of the Legacies I’m in charge of watching over.

“Whoa, sorry about that,” he smiles down at Skyla, as if him stepping in front of her was a total accident.

Jackass.

“It’s fine,” Skyla smiles, her eyes skimming over him for longer than I’d appreciate before she pulls out of his grasp. Stroughton doesn’t let up though as he takes another step, erasing the space she put between them.

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