Page 42 of The Puck Player

“I’m the single one, remember? I can kiss and fuck whoever I want,” I toss back, and her eyes narrow, the emerald in them burning with something too much like want and need.

“Then don’t let me stop you, we’re just friends, right?” Her voice holds a hint of a dare as she tosses my words from last night back at me, and this time I can’t stop myself from pressing into her, letting her feel exactly how fucking friendly I am.

“Is that what you want? You want me to give them my mouth?” I whisper, moving until our noses are almost touching. “You want me to spread them out and fuck them until you can hear them screaming my name? Would that make you happy?” One of my hands snakes up around her throat, relishing in the heavy thrum of her heart rate as it pulses against my fingers.

“That’s what the Fairfield whore usually does, right? Fucks away all his problems so he doesn’t have to face the truth,” she fires back, pressing into my hold on her, and I fight against the need to claim her lips again.

“Truth, huh? Don’t start that bullshit with me, I’m not the one in a relationship going around kissing other people.” My words are harsh and my alcohol-fueled brain is screaming atme to stop talking, but the once dead organ in my chest keeps winning out.

“I didn’t kiss other people, I kissed you,” she snaps, as if there is a difference. I really wish there fucking was, but before I can open my mouth to respond, the girls from earlier stumble toward the back door.

“Reign,” one of them sing-songs my name, pulling off her dress over her head and tossing it to the floor. “We are moving the party to the hot tub, we’ve heard that’s your favorite place to share,” she teases with a wink, and it doesn’t take a genius to work out what she means, and I feel Aubree’s scoff against my hand.

It wasn’t too long ago that an offer like that had me running, but with the epitome of my every desire right here in front of me, I don’t even bat an eye.

“Go ahead, your fan club is waiting,” Aubree replies, shoving me away from her, and I stumble back, just as Ben appears at the end of the hallway.

“So is your boyfriend,” I snap, stalking away from her without looking back, because if I do, I know I’ll see her choosing him.

Fuck. I need another drink.

Alexander Reign is a fucking asshole. A player, a whore, a goddamn infuriating, maddening fucking asshole. So why can’t I stop thinking about his lips against mine? Why, when my boyfriend is here, finally treating me exactly how I want, do I keep searching for him instead? Ben thinks we’re having fun, that this party is going to lead to us spending the night together, and as I think about what Alexander might be doing with not just one, but three damn girls outside, I’m ready to throw caution to the wind with my fucking ring.

I watch him follow after the three beautiful girls who just invited him outside, pretending my heart isn’t aching in my chest. He isn’t doing anything wrong, like he said, he’s the single one, not me, but then why do I care more about what he’s doing than my boyfriend?

Ben storms toward me with a face like thunder, and I await his verbal assault, not sure how much he just saw, but instead when he reaches me he smiles. “Well, looks like he’s about to have a fun night, huh?” he purrs, crowding me against the wall, as he nods his head in the direction of the back door. “I heard he has quite the reputation as the campus whore,” he adds, and I almost flinch beneath his words.

“Well, then the people who say that don’t know him very well,” I snap back before I can stop myself, and something flashes across Ben’s stare, but it’s gone before I can decipher it.

“Well the only person I want to know better is you, pretty girl,” he whispers, leaning down to trail his mouth along my jaw, as I suppress my shudder. “Come on, let’s go,” he murmurs into my ear, lacing his fingers with mine, dragging me down the hall and back toward the party.

I don’t look back the way Alexander left, scared of what I might see, and instead I let my boyfriend lead me upstairs where the music isn’t as loud. “Where are we going?” I ask Ben, but he doesn’t stop, not until we reach the top and he tries a couple of the doors, before finally letting himself into one of the rooms.

Alexander’s room.

“Ah this is perfect,” he starts, barely giving it a second look before he drags me inside and shuts the door behind us.

I don’t even get a chance to do anything before his lips are on mine, and he is pushing me against the door and shoving his tongue in my mouth. He kisses me harder than he ever has before, his hands rough as they explore my body, and I will myself to relax. To try and sink into the moment like I have a thousand times before, but somehow it doesn’t feel the same as it once did.

We’ve gotten hot and heavy plenty of times, but it was always with an invisible line drawn in the sand. We knew our values, or at least we thought we did, and we knew we wouldn’t crossthe line, but things are different now. We are different now. Not only do I no longer feel connected to my faith anymore, but I no longer feel connected to him either. Not when I now know what it’s like to be treated with so much kindness and respect that I realize how much I have been missing out on. It may have been a loss that brought me here, but what I have gained in return has been staggering.

This isn’t what I want anymore.He’snot what I want.

Ben trails his mouth down my neck, licking and sucking as he goes. “I’ve waited so long for this, pretty girl, you were made for me.” His words are spoken against my skin, as if he is willing them to brand me just to make them true, but in all honesty I feel nothing.

No, that’s not true, I feel plenty of things. Want, jealousy, lust, just not for my boyfriend. Is Alexander kissing those girls? Are they all kissing him? Are his hands in their hair like they were in mine? Do they feel this deep yearning inside of their chests for something they have never had before?

“You’re the perfect fucking vessel, Bree,” Ben grunts against my chest, startling me from my thoughts, as his hand slides up my inner thigh. “God knew I was worthy, and he granted me his greatest gift of love.” His words are paired with his fingers brushing against my lace-clad pussy, and this time I can’t stop the flinch.

“Ben, what the hell are you doing?” I ask in a panic, and I don’t miss the roll of his eyes, his fingers still continuing their exploration of my body.

The only thing I want from God right now is for him to make this stop.

“Don’t curse, Bree, not in a moment as sacred as this,” he grits, using his free hand to pull at the straps of my dress, tugging one down off my shoulder so he can palm at my breast. “I’ve waited so long for you to give yourself to me, you’re going tobe mine, mind, body, and soul,” he continues on, his mouth and hands too focused on what he thinks is about to happen to pick up on my panic and disgust.

“No, Ben, we can’t,” I start, trying to gently guide his hands away, but both his hands flex a little harder against my chest and pussy.

“Bree, I’ve been patient, I’ve waited and fucking waited, but I’m not waiting anymore,” he snaps, making my hands freeze slightly, as his eyes snap to meet mine in anger. “Don’t act like you don’t want this, your body is screaming to be worshipped.” He smooths out his brow and kisses me again, not caring that I’m not reciprocating. “You’re going to show me that you belong to me, you’re going to worship me as we give ourselves to God and each other.”

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