Page 71 of Gemini Queen
Too bad I’d have to stand in a damn queue. Right now, every bloke on this island would pay real money to have her straddling his lap.
From the long table under the skylight where those bitches from Villa Tiberius lurk like a grumble of maggots, someone hisses, “Gemini whore! You won’t live to be queen.”
A vicious chorus of jeers and catcalls from the witch’s little cronies parrots all that ugly.
And Zara laughs.
She fuckinglaughs.
Like she’s having the time of her life getting hazed and downright threatened by every witch and warlock in the school. I’m no fan of royalty (there’s actually a reason beyond sex that Vasili and I are allies) and I’m definitely no fan of Geminis, but admittedly this one gets the nod for moxie. I always fancy an underdog, so I can appreciate the girl’s attitude.
Little Miss Gemini swings her knapsack over her shoulder, because she’s clearly learned her lesson on leaving her things lying about after the recent koi incident.
Then she beelines straight for me.
Fuck.
“Morning, love,” I murmur, letting my eyes slide slowly over every centimeter of her luscious frame.
Gemini or no, I fucking adore those Hollywood starlet curves of hers. She fills out her royal blue Academy blazer like Scarlett Johansson in an Avenger suit. I could have an actual orgasm just from the way the buttons on her blouse strain over her perfect tits. The girl’s wearing the same bubble-gum pink lipstick and cobalt eyeliner she was sporting back at Wang’s, and the combination of her good-girl uniform and her bad-girl makeup is lethal. She’s swept her blue hair in a pert ponytail that shows off the earrings rimming her ear, and she’s actually tucked a sharpened pencil behind that ear—clearly just to fuck with me.
That prep school ponytail makes me fantasize about wrapping her silky curls in my fist and kissing her lush bubble-gum lips till she moans for me.
Yeah, she’s Damien’s sister, but she’s not Damien, is she? He’s bloody well gotten his comeuppance. Burned to death by psi fire the way he and that bitch Cybelle fucking deserved. So he’s not here anymore to torment. Far as I can tell, Zara and that bastard weren’t even close.
For a second, doubt nibbles at the wicked edge of my resolve.
Maybe I’ve pursued this revenge business far enough.
Then the familiar fist of grief and rage punches me in the gut. That prick killed my fucking sister, same as if he tied the noose she swung from. I’m nowhere near ready to singkumbayaand let all that go.
Just the thought of letting it go makes me murderous.
“Morning, Adam.” Since my outstretched legs block her path, the Gemini bitch pulls up and plants a hand on her cocked hip. “Mind if I have a word?”
Damn, but she’s got that whole queen bit down pat. Her imperious eyes give me a nudge to lower my legs like a gent and let her take a load off.
Well, she can piss off. I keep my legs where they are, because our would-be queen hasn’t earned the privilege.
“Knock yourself out.” I shrug.
Her teal brows scrunch together in a way that makes my dick hard. She looked exactly the same… perplexed but fascinated… spreadeagled on the sink in that Singapore penthouse the night she took my cock.
A distinctive heat creeps down my neck and spreads over my chest. The simmering heat of mating fever.
Shit.
Lucius was nowhere to be seen when my alarm sounded off this morning, because of course my skittish new lover ghosted me. But he left a lengthy list of numbered instructions on my nightstand, including the clear order to look him up—or look Vasili up—for a sex fix the instant I start getting hot.
Simply put, I’m under strict orders to break the fever and fast. Even if I have to turn to his rival alpha to do it. Lucius never said a word about exclusivity, so it’s not like I need his permission.
But I fancy the fact that he cares enough for my comfort to give it.
Too bad for me Vasili’s off preening for his little groupies, while Lucius is proctoring Mistress Agrippina’s Schedule B’s in their midterm since Aggie’s under the weather. Zara hasn’t gotten the memo about my mating heat. Actually, no one’s gotten it except Lucius and Vasili. But I am definitely seeing an opportunity for the little witch to service me through my current predicament. That’s assuming I can nudge her into a repeat of our memorable go-round in Singapore.
Zara clears her throat and glances about, to confirm no one’s lurking within earshot. Then she lowers her knapsack to the floor. “I’m looking for a tutor.”
“Let me put your mind at ease,” I say, low and throaty. “You don’t need a bloody tutor. You could teach this entire student body a few tricks.”
