Page 529 of Filthy Elites

“Kegs are tapped, always pump your own, don’t take a drink unless you fetched it yourself,” he warns.

“We will, thanks,” I say, offering him a smile for the safety talk, but not wanting to think about why he feels like he needs to warn us.

As we fill our cups, I feel like I’m at a real college party. The party in the woods with its cocktails and bartenders felt too rich kid to be a real college experience, but drinking beer from a plastic cup I just paid for feels much more authentic.

“Dancing or checking out the houses first?” Sammy asks. “The houses all decorate to a theme, this year it’s Hawaii so expect some sand, grass skirts and coconut bras.”

“Let’s dance a little first, get a few drinks into us, then we can check out the houses with a bit of a buzz,” I suggest.

Sammy smiles brightly then lifts her cup into the air, I tap mine against hers and we throw the foul beer back, turn and fill our cups again before making our way into the crowd to dance.

An hour later, I’m a little drunk and loving life. My hands are in the air and I’m dancing like I don’t have a care in the world. Sebastian has barely managed to enter my thoughts at all since that first beer.

“Shots time,” Sammy shouts, pulling a flask from her purse and waving it in the air giggling. Unscrewing the top she lifts it to her lips and takes a drink, grimacing slightly before handing it to me. I take a drink too, gagging when the sour hit of tequila coats my throat.

Some guys approach us and we’re all dancing when a large body moves behind me, not quite touching me but close enough that I can feel them. Glancing over my shoulder, I’m surprised to find Chase smiling at me.

“I thought it was you, you look seriously hot,” he says with a wink.

“Hey, Chase, yeah this is probably better than the drowned rat look I was wearing at the track,” I laugh.

He laughs too, dancing behind me without making a move to get any closer. Turning my head back to Sammy she shimmies closer to me, leaning in until her mouth is pressed against my ear. “He’s hot.”

“That’s the guy who asked me out the other day,” I confess.

“Perfect, you know he’s interested, kiss him and see how it feels,” she urges.

Shrugging I try to imagine leaning in and pressing my lips against Chase’s lips, but the moment I start to think about it, Sebastian’s face replaces Chase’s and my body starts to heat.

No. This isn’t about Sebastian, I know my body reacts to him. Kissing another guy is about figuring out how it reacts to someone else, and to do that I need to pretend that Sebastian doesn’t exist.

We all dance for a bit longer, then I feel Chase move closer, tentatively placing his hands on my hips. When I don’t push him away, he moves closer still until my ass is practically sitting in his groin, our bodies moving as one to the beat of the music.

“Let’s go check out the houses,” Sammy shouts. The group of guys that I’m now realizing must be Chase’s buddies all agree and we move as a group, topping up our cups on the way. This is the first time I’ve been in Bufford House, the place I would have been living if Sebastian hadn’t manipulated things to get me where he wanted me.

The row of houses are all connected by a long hallway with doors opening off into each house and the living space beyond. The floor of the hall is covered in sand and my heels instantly sink into it. Stopping, I pull my sandals off and carry them as we walk as a group to the end house and enter into it. The living room has been decorated with plastic palm leaves and we’re offered flower leis as the sound of tropical music greets us. A hula contest is in full swing and we shuffle past it and into the kitchen area, where a row of guys are being soaked in water for a wet-Hawaiian-shirt contest.

“Hell yes,” Sammy hoots, and three of the attractive athletic guys grin at her.

We spend a little time in the house, joining the other girls to judge the wet shirt contest, by stepping up to feel the pecs and abs of each guy in turn until a winner is crowned.

The next house is underwater themed, with snorkels being used as funnels to down tropical punch. In the third house, Chase and the other guys all dart forward to take part in a limbo competition, and I’m laughing my ass off when Bruce, one of Chase’s friends, shuffles along the floor like a crab to get under the limbo stick.

The crowds are even thicker in the fourth house, and Sammy and I lose hold of each other as we shuffle toward the kitchen where some kind of competition is happening. I try to keep sight of her, but there’re so many people and without my heels I can’t even see over the shoulders of people ahead of me.

“Don’t worry, I can see them, just hold on to me and I’ll get us back to them,” Chase says, offering me his hand.

Nodding, I take his hand and let him push through the crowd, creating a path for me to walk along. Meandering in and out of people, it seems to take forever, but we finally reach the wall, only instead of being at the door that will take us to the kitchen, we’re at the doors that lead to the ground floor bedrooms. This is wrong. Chase said he’d get me back to Sammy and the others, but instead he’s led me away from them and toward bedrooms. Panic seizes me, but before I have a chance to scream or run, Chase’s hand closes over my mouth, his arm banding around my waist like a steel bar as he drags me kicking and screaming into a bedroom, closing and locking the door behind us.

“That’s better, just the two of us alone at last,” Chase says with a sinister smile.

“What are you doing, Chase? We need to go and find Sammy and the others,” I say, trying to stay calm.

Tilting his head to the side, he takes in my appearance, letting his eyes scan over me, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip. “No, I don’t think so,”

“I want to leave,” I say, moving to unlock the door.

I’m not expecting the brutal backhand that explodes on my cheek, knocking me to the floor. “Do you know who I am?” he asks, a manic gleam flashing in his eyes.

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