Page 3 of Mason
Duke huffs out a sharp laugh, but in the same breath grasps my wrist and wrenches it away from his face. “Honey, believe me when I say you don’t want to know how much it costs to live on KU’s campus. This?” He looks around as a wicked smile finds its way to his lips to match the one I’d shot at him. “It’s free to you. But let’s face it, we know how you and your mother are willing to whore it out for a little money, so if it’d make you feel more comfortable paying for your rent in the only way you know how—”
“You’re full of shit and you know it.” Color hits my cheeks and my face burns like someone smacked me.
“Oh, really? Then what’s this on your neck?” He reaches out, sliding the pads of his fingers over the spot Mason had squeezed the hell out of.
I try to avoid flinching as my heart hammers an erratic beat in my chest. What Mason did couldn’t have left a mark. Not only do I not bruise that easily, I can’t imagine even if I did that it would appear on my skin so quickly.
He withdraws his hand with a cruel smirk. “Already hard at work, Stella?” His eyes flick to Mason’s as he turns to fully face him, one brow lifted in question. “Bad night, brother?”
And when I shift to catch Mason’s response, holy shit. What the hell? His expression has lost all hint of that smirking attitude and gone right back to the peculiar gloom he’d shown me at our first meeting. “Fuck off,” he growls low enough to make my insides quake.
“What the hell is going on? I heard the door and—” The new guy who’s entered the fray is tall, dark, and muscular, a god in human form, his body technically perfect. I don’t have to see him without clothes to be aware of the well-honed form I’d find underneath. His hair is still damp from a recent shower, curling slightly, and I spend several seconds too many drinking him in.Holy shit.I blink, and his eyes are on me.
“The fuck?” he breathes out, jerking to a stop and I can tell from the confused nature of his expression that he’s struggling to understand the situation before him. Mason continues to glare daggers at Duke, but Duke is now giving Mason a chilly blast of indifference.
And I’m caught right in the middle of their standoff. Self-conscious, I let my hand creep up to cover whatever Duke was seeing on my neck and send this big guy a look of desperation.Save me.
A ghost of a smile curves his full lips, then he lifts his arms, latching a hand on the opposite wrist and resting them on top of his head. My eyes are immediately drawn to the bold lion tattoo covering the back of his bicep. A Kingston lion? His eyes casually bounce back and forth between Duke and Mason, though I don’t miss the way they skirt over me, like he’s trying not to look too hard. “Who’s the chick?”
When neither of his buddies bothers to answer him, I let out an exasperated sigh and offer him my hand. “Lennon.”
The deep chuckle that erupts from his lips takes me by surprise, and while I’m still gathering my wits about me, he takes my hand in his much larger one, squeezing gently. His palm is a bit rough—not in a bad way—maybe like he does something with his hands, works outside, plays a sport, or lifts weights a lot. “Bear,” he rumbles, eyeing me curiously.
Did he just say Bear?He does look kinda bear-like, big all over with scruff lining his jaw. The nickname fits, no matter how strange I find it.
“Well,Lennon”—his gaze drifts down over my body, then journeys up to meet my eyes with his warm hazel ones—“you’re dead sexy, but we’ve got a couple cars pulling up, so you’d best be on your way.” He nods as he plants his hands on hips encased in dark denim. Addressing Duke and Mason, he grunts out, “Fresh meat. Whatever your beef is with each other, drop it and get your fuckin’ heads screwed on straight. Time to scare the piss out of some freshmen.”
Almost as if it’s taking everything in him to admit it, Duke tips his chin in my direction. With a beleaguered sigh, he groans, “She’s not going anywhere, man. I’ll fill you in later.”
I look at him like he has three heads. I’d been sure when I gave him the out, when I said I could live elsewhere that he’d let me go. That he’d been blowing smoke by telling me it was too expensive elsewhere. I don’t have a clue as to why he’d want me to stay, but I haven’t forgotten for a damn second that he implied that my mother and I use our bodies as currency. Normally, I’d wait, see how things play out, strategize—but my brain short circuits, the urgency to be away from here overwhelming me. “You’re fucking crazy if you think this is happening. I’m leaving.” I dart from among the three of them and hurry toward the heavy wooden door of the office, yanking it open and hauling ass out of the room.
My eyes shoot only for a split second to my flip-flops at the base of the stairs and I decide on the fly to abandon them. Racing for the front door, my feet slap against the marble tiles. Like some sort of miracle, the door opens as I get to it. “Excuse me! Coming through!” The guys who were about to enter step to the side, laughing, like I’m a bit of comic relief planned for their enjoyment. Without stopping to count, I’d say there are no less than seven dudes watching me flee barefoot down the driveway.
I hear footsteps pounding behind me and a bunch of shouting, though my ears are buzzing so harshly from the rush of adrenaline spiking through my system that I can’t tell what they’re saying. But it’s clear, they’re not going to let me go.
My lungs scream as I keep running, but two powerful arms loop around my middle, shift me around, and then I’m flying through the air like I weigh no more than a sack of potatoes. There’s no mistaking the fact that it’s Bear; the magnitude of his strength shouldn’t be so shocking, yet it is. I’m in awe as I land on his shoulder and let out a strangled noise full of agonized frustration.
“Come on now, little gazelle. You’re going to have to learn to play nice with Duke.”
“No, no I don’t.” I struggle, knowing I sound like a petulant child, but he holds me in place—one of those big, rough hands gripping my left thigh while the other is spread over my right ass cheek. Embarrassment washes over my skin, and I have the distinct feeling that I’m pink with it from head to toe.
The upside-down position I’m in puts my nose up close and personal with the broad expanse of his back, the clean scent of the soap from a recent shower invading my nose with every inhale.
Hoots and hollers greet my ears as Bear marches up the drive toward the house, and I’m fully aware that my backside is on full display for the entire Bainbridge brotherhood, new pledges and full-fledged brothers alike. I strain to look upward, pressing my hands on Bear’s lower back, and wish I hadn’t because as I angle my head, I can see plainly that their eyes are alight with the hilarity of the situation, like I’m their new favorite streaming comedy show on Netflix.
I take a deep breath and bellow, “Put me the fuck down!”
At the front entrance, Mason begins to disperse the crowd, who seem to think my outburst is funny, sending them inside with a I-mean-business glare and a point of his finger.
Setting me on my feet at the bottom of the steps, Bear shakes his head, exhaling harshly. “The fuck, woman.”
But before I can say a word to defend myself, Duke steps in and grasps me by the back of my neck and yanks me close. So close that I put my hands up, pressing them against his chest to put distance between us—but it’s mostly ineffective. With Bear and Mason now immediately behind him, he hisses in my face, “Stella, let’s get a few things straight. Whether or not you live here isn’t up for discussion. It’s not something you get tochoose. You’re living in my world now, and it’s my motherfuckingmissionto watch over you, little sister.”
My eyes flick to Bear’s, and I watch his mouth slowly drop open as the full truth of who I am hits him. Mason smirks, “Yeah, dude. She’s his fucking sister. Stella. Lennon. Same girl.”
Duke’s face turns an impressive shade of red. “Stepsister,” he grinds out, his perturbed gaze narrowing on Mason before returning his attention to me. “You’ll do whatever we fucking say. Whatever we want you to do. No matter what. And if you don’t, I will make you regret it every fucking second of your greedy, whorish existence.” Duke pauses, his breath hot as it gusts past my cheek. I’m stunned by the wickedness of his words, all the sassy comebacks I would normally make caught up in my throat. He tightens his hold when I don’t answer, and viciously forces my head back so he can look me directly in the eye. His cold blue eyes narrow on me until it feels like they’re piercing my very soul, then his voice lowers, and I see the awful truth. He’s going to make this hurt. “Are we in agreement, or do we have a huge fucking problem, Stella?”
My mind races as I come to grips with what he’s saying. He’s going to make me pay for being here, in one manner or another. Tristan had even demanded that Duke treat me like a grunt. I didn’t understand what that meant at the time, but it’s clicked in my head now. I’m about to have the shit hazed out of me in this house along with the rest of the incoming freshmen. A fresh wave of unease skitters down my spine and my stomach roils. I’ve never been afraid of Duke Valentine before—but I am now.
