Page 24 of The Players

“Yours,” I repeated, but he didn’t seem satisfied. His fingers continued their path to the warm, throbbing area between my legs. When he trailed them over my slick wetness, I arched against him, reveling in how good it felt.

“None of them will make you come like I do,” he growled, stroking harder. Passion throbbed down my limbs at every stroke. It felt so good, but I wanted more.

But just as he was bringing me to crescendo, he pulled his hand away. When my eyes fluttered open, Lowell was gazing down at me. “Say it, Princess,” he said.

“No one makes me come like you,” I whispered, trembling and panting with longing. “Please.”

He smiled. “I like it when you beg.”

“I will. I’ll beg.”

When I reached for him, he pulled back. “I want you to come harder for me than you have for any of them, got it?”

“Yes. Please. Anything.” I would have said anything to get Lowell to finish, but I also loved how he controlled me. How he made me beg for it.

Pushing hair from his eyes, he brought his mouth to mine, sucking my lip into his mouth as his tongue plunged into me. At the same time, his fingers did the same.

I cried out, writhing against his hand, but he wasn’t done with me. He grabbed both hands and pressed them above my head with one hand while continuing to pleasure me with the other. The stroking and thrusting were bringing me to the edge of ecstasy, but when he took my nipple between his teeth and bit down, I came hard, moaning his name.

Pleasure exploded, a tidal wave of pure pleasure. I shook, clenching against his fingers as he continued to stroke me through my orgasm.

“Lowell,” I murmured repeatedly, still shaking as the waves of passion rolled over me.

“Say my name. Say it when they make you come too,” he said before leaning down to gently bite the other nipple.

I knew the other guys wouldn't like to hear Lowell’s name on my lips when they were with me, but after an orgasm like that, I might not be able to help myself.

“That’s one way to forget my problems,” I said, adjusting my clothes.

He smirked, looking pleased with himself. “Any time, Princess. Any time.”

Chapter eleven

TheworstpartaboutMondays used to be Calc quizzes and the dreaded school cafeteria pizza, but now it was seeing Easton and his crew.

At school, Savannah acted like an angel, kissing the teachers’ asses, and giving compliments that she didn’t mean to anyone who passed her way. She was gorgeous in a Barbie doll way that made every guy’s head turn. The boys wanted to drag her into the janitor’s closet, and the girls wanted to be her best friend.

It seemed only I, and the few people I’d let in on the secret knew what Savannah was really up to.

Julian, Naomi, Tina, and I sat at our normal table, picking at our rewarmed pizza and trying to ignore Savannah’s antics during lunch. Today, she’d strategically tied her academy shirt to show off her midriff and was pressing her breasts forward while munching on a carrot stick like she was auditioning for Hugh Hefner. Ty was loving every minute of it, his jaw practically on the cafeteria table while his eyes roved over her barely-covered breasts.

Ridiculous, but I shouldn’t be surprised.

Savannah was just like Easton. She wanted everyone to want her, fear her, and do her bidding. It seemed to be working, too. No staff member told Savannah to cool it. No one told her that her outfit was out of regulation. But she was a Hill, in some form or fashion. The Hills ran this school. She could do anything, including create and orchestrate games that nearly got us killed.

“She was the one who ran that ridiculous game this weekend?” Julian asked in a hushed whisper. “She looks like she’d be busy on her knees in some millionaire’s club.”

“I’m not one to slut shame,” I said, “but yeah. She’s using her sexuality to get her places.”

Naomi leaned forward so her curly bangs fell into her tan face. She had the rest of her hair back in a headband in a cute hairstyle I wished I had enough body to pull off. “But she doesn’t need to, right? Her family is rich and powerful.”

I glanced over my shoulder and caught Savannah giggling and running a hand down Tyler’s arm. “She wants attention. She craves it. Easton is the same way.”

“He doesn’t look that way now,” Julian said, thumbing over his shoulder.

We glanced back. I couldn’t help it. Everyone in the cafeteria was watching that table in one way or another. But Julian was right. Easton didn’t seem to be enjoying his cousin’s show. He looked bored with her antics and began showing Spencer something on his phone. Maybe he was jealous of all the attention Savannah received and wanted some for himself, but I couldn’t help but think back to him hitting the aquarium with that crowbar. He had saved us. There was no way around it. We were okay because of Easton Hill.

I shook my head. Just thinking that hurt my brain. It didn’t make sense. None of this did. We were in that situation because of him. Maybe that’s what he wanted. He’d set us up to think that he was the hero when he was the devil in disguise.

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