Page 2 of Princess of Hawthorne Prep

For the first time in a while, contentment fills me. It’s not something I’ve experienced since moving to this god-forsaken town in the middle of Wisconsin. Especially after Dad unexpectedly died of a heart attack. As I stare at the crackling orange flames that twist in the firepit, my mind reluctantly tumbles back to what life was like three short months ago. I was a starter on my varsity high school football team, and senior year was stretched out ahead of me.

That meant girls and parties.

College applications and continuing the recruitment process.

It was all good.

And I couldn’t have been happier.

All that was blown to shit when my father’s estranged mother, Rose Hawthorne, keeled over.

What did the old bitch leave us?

A fucking mansion.

Along with a company that had once upon a time been co-owned with the Rothchilds.

And a legacy of hate that is impossible to vanquish.

With Delilah by my side, none of that matters.

If I have to claw my way over Jasper to a starting position on this team, that’s precisely what I’ll do. It’s only when Delilah burrows closer to my chest that the memories fade into nothingness. A shiver works its way through her body as silvery moonlight spills over her long, pale blonde hair.

Fuck, she’s beautiful.

I meanreallybeautiful.

The first time I saw this girl, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. One way or another, I knew she would be mine.

And now she is.

Even though the music from inside has become muffled, faint wisps along with the low and steady thump of the bass can still be heard. It all but pulsates in the air.

When another shudder slides through her, my brows draw together in concern. “Are you cold?”

Whatever it is this girl needs, I want to be the one who gives it to her.

“A little,” she says with a quick shrug and a smile.

“Want to head back inside the house?”

“No, I’d rather stay out here where it’s less crowded.”

Unable to resist the lure of her mouth, my hand slides into the thickness of her hair before dragging her close enough for my lips to settle over hers. It only takes one stroke for her to open and our tongues to tangle. I have no idea what it is about Delilah that affects me this way. She’s like an addiction pumping through my blood, setting it on fire until it blazes through everything in its path. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fight my way free of her.

Especially now that she’s given herself to me. The idea that her body has been molded specifically to my cock drives me fucking insane. If I have anything to say about it, that’s the way it’ll stay.

“Get a room,” a loudmouth asshole shouts, drawing my attention away from her.

“Or don’t,” his friend laughs. “I wouldn’t mind watching that girl get fucked.”

My muscles tense as irritation washes over me. There’s no way in hell anyone else will ever catch sight of her being pleasured.

For good measure, I stroke my tongue against the velvety softness of hers one last time before grudgingly drawing away and glancing around. I spot the two dickheads with the big traps loitering near the pool.

“Hey, Garrickson?” I call out, raising my voice in order to be heard over the noise.

The redheaded kid meets my gaze with a stupid grin dancing across his face.

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