Broken: Winchester Academy, Book 3 Page 4

“Good answer,” he growls.

  “You—you need to get to class.” My eyes open, and I shiver as his gaze burns right into me.

  “You know how it is,” he grins. “New student, new school. Don’t know where shit is? I could get lost in here.” He shrugs. “It’s my first day, Emily. No one cares.”

  “They’ll care here.”

  He moves closer, his body brushing mine, and I shiver.

  “Ethan, please,” I murmur, glancing at the door. “This—I work here.”

  I can see the fire in his eyes, and when I hear the low growl in his throat, I tremble.

  “After school then.”

  “No, Ethan.”

  “Why not.”

  I give him a look. “You know why not.”

  “I know why you think you can’t. But last night was good, Emily,” he growls. “Really, really good.”

  His hand slides around until his palm is at the small of my back, and when he tugs me against him, I whimper, gasping quietly as I look up into his intense blue eyes.

  “And I know you know it too.”

  “Ethan, last night was—”

  “Don’t.”

  I swallow.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t be cliché and say it was a mistake, because we both know that’s a lie.”

  He moves forward, pushing me back until my back is to the wall. My pulse thunders in my ears, my skin tingling with electric energy. His other hand drops to my skirt, and when he starts to tug it up, my eyes open wide as I gasp.

  “Ethan!”

  “Did you think about me last night?”

  I whimper.

  “Please—”

  “When you went home, after,” he growls. “Did you play with your pussy missing my cock?”

  Oh fuck.

  I moan quietly, my hands clutching at his rippling, inked forearms as he tugs my skirt higher and higher, until I can feel the air against the slick, wet gusset of my panties. I blush furiously, and the adult in me knows damn well that I should put a stop to this right the fuck now, but the rest of me won’t let that happen.

  He tugs the skirt higher, and when his hand slips under to tease over my bare thigh, I gasp quietly. He centers his exploring fingers, and when they brush over my panties, I whimper.

  “Do you always get this wet talking about Monet, Emily?”

  I moan, and when his fingers push under the waist of my panties and slide down over my mound, I clutch him tighter, gasping. His fingers slide easily between my slick, pouty lips, parting them as one thick digit eases into my center. My breath catches, and my body aches for him as he curls a finger into me, his palm pushing against my clit as he strokes my g-spot.

  “Oh God, Ethan…”

  My eyes dart past him to the door to the classroom—the very unlocked door, at that.

  “Someone…” he drags his slick finger over my aching clit, and I gasp sharply.

  “Jesus Christ, what are we doing?” I hiss before I moan, loudly.

  “I’m making you come on my fingers, Emily,” he growls. “That’s what I’m doing. Before I go to class.”

  He leans in, and I moan as his lips brush my ear.

  “I’m going to make you come, Emily, so I can taste your pussy whenever I want for the rest of the day.”

  I moan, panting, my hips rolling against his hand with a mind of their own as he eases his finger back into me.

  “Someone might—someone could walk in and… oh fuck…”

  “Then you should probably come quick for me,” he growls, his finger plunging in and out of me as he grinds his palm against my clit over and over, until my knees are shaking and I’m clinging to his muscled forearms for dear life.

  “Ethan!’

  He growls as his lips crush to mine, bruising me and taking my breath away, and I’m helpless to stop it as I fall into him, kissing him madly as he rolls my clit over and over and over until I’m clawing at my own sanity.

  “Come for me, Ms. Hayes,” he growls deeply into my lips. “Make that pussy come for me.”

  He rolls my clit one more time as he bites at my bottom lip, and it’s the last I can take. I gasp, my hands tightening on him and my lips crushing to his as I scream my climax into his mouth. The orgasm slams into me, flooding his hand with my slick arousal as I buck against his fingers over and over, until I’m panting and sagging against him.

  Ethan groans, kissing me softly before he pulls away with a hungry grin on his face. His hand slips from my panties, and he lets my skirt fall back to my knees as he brings his hand up to his lips. I watch, face flushed, and jaw dropped as he slips one glistening finger into his mouth and slowly sucks it clean with a low groan.

  “So fucking sweet,” he growls

  He licks the finger one more time before he leans in and presses his lips to mine, kissing me deeply. I moan, and for the first time, I taste myself on his lips with a blush of realization.

  I taste good.

  Ethan pulls back, his hungry eyes sweeping over me as he grins wolfishly.

  “I better get to class, huh?”

  All I can do is nod quietly as I swallow, my whole body still trembling from the orgasm. Ethan grins as he picks his bag up off of the ground behind him and slings it over one shoulder. He leans in, and I whimper as he kisses me one last time.

  “See you tomorrow, Ms. Hayes,” he purrs.

  He turns, sauntering out of the room and leaving me panting, wobbling on my feet, and aching for more.

  Fuck, I’m in so much trouble…

  5

  Ethan

  “You get into any trouble yet?”

  I grin at the sound of my brother’s voice behind me. I dump the rest of my shit in my locker, grabbing the one book I apparently need for my math and statistics class with Professor Truman next period. And when I turn, there’s Jamison, smirking at me.

  Jamison and I aren’t identical twins, but we do look pretty similar, I guess. Or maybe in a place like Winchester, it’s just that the two of us stick out like two sore thumbs. Sore and tattooed thumbs, at that. J’s got almost as much ink as I do, even if he ended up growing up here rather than Lenox Hill.

  More trouble than you even know, man, I want to say. But I don’t. Jamison and I tell each other pretty much everything, but I’m not telling him about this. It’s like I don’t want to tell anyone about Emily. For one, because I sure as hell don’t want her to catch any shit for what happened. But for two, because I like her being all mine.

  “Nah,” I shrug. “But the day is young.”

  Jamison rolls his eyes. “Make any friends?”

  “Oh, tons. I’m in real tight with all the other tattooed outcast types who like motorcycles.”

  I give Jamison a flat look.

  “Oh, that’s right, everyone else who goes to this fucking place is a preppy, snobby, douche.”

  My brother rolls his eyes again and shakes his head. “Just chill and try to keep an open mind.”

  I arch my brow. “What are you, Mr. Popular around here? You gonna be Homecoming King?”

  “Har har,” Jamison flips me off before slinging an arm over my shoulder. “Which way you headed?”

  I nod with my chin down the hall and he shrugs. “Cool, I’ll walk you.”

  I laugh. “You that worried I’m going to take off or something crazy?”

  “Yup.”

  I grin. “Whatever, man. Look, I’m here, right?”

  “Yeah, but Ethan, you’ve gotta really be here. Look, I get it, man,” he growls. “I get that this place is the epitome of rich, shitty douchebaggery, but it’s also a fucking golden ticket.”

  I roll my eyes this time. “You sound like dad.”

  “Yeah? Good. Dad’s a smart fucking guy. Ethan, you’re not a dumbass, and this place can open any door you fucking want for college.”

  I just shrug. Believe me, whatever Jamison has to say on the subject, I’ve heard it before from our dad.

  “Hey, how about you?”
/>   “What about me?”

  “I mean how is it being back here?”

  He shrugs. “It’s fine, man.”

  Unlike me, Jamison has actually been to Winchester before. A year after I went to Lenox Hill, he started as a freshman here, and got about a month into sophomore year before our mom took off and dad moved the family back to South Carolina. Well, the family minus me, I guess. When he and Celia Weiss decided to make it official and get engaged, he and Jamison moved back up here at the beginning of the school year so J could start his senior year. Lenox Hill has a strict policy on cutting out early on a contract, so it took dad two months of bullshit and donations to get me out and into Winchester. So, here we finally are. The Scott brothers, dirtying the clean, moneyed halls of Winchester.

  We round a corner, and suddenly, we stop short before we almost plow right into a familiar face.

  “Hey, Ethan!”

  Ramona Weiss, Celia’s daughter and our soon-to-be-stepsister, smiles warmly at me, pushing her dark brown hair out of her eyes. Ramona is basically the opposite of me, but I like her so far, I guess. She’s firmly in the “popular” crowd, but she’s not a bitch, as far as I can tell. She’s also smart as hell, and studios, and is really kind of a kiss-ass with teachers, but whatever. She’s probably the most likely person I know to grow up to be a corporate lawyer or a Senator or something.

  “Hey Moan-er,” Jamison drawls out with a sarcastic smile. Ramona’s eyes darken, her lips pursing as she turns to my brother and gives him a sneer.

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously what?”

  “Moaner? Honestly?”

  Jamison grins as he spreads his hands wide. “Hey, a nickname is nickname. I just don’t want to tread on tradition.”

  “You called me that when we were fucking twelve.”

  “And?”

  “And grow up, cretin,” she hisses, scowling at him before she turns back to me and smiles. “How’s your first day, Ethan?”

  “Great.”

  “Good!” She shrugs. “Hey, if you’re curious about any of the clubs or teams, just let me know and I can introduce—”

  “I’m… good,” I say with a light smile. “Clubs and teams aren’t really my jam.” They totally are for Ramona though. I mean she’s literally wearing her cheer outfit for some sort of rally after school. She’s also in the school band, and on the debate team.

  “Oh, well, if you change your mind, I mean, the Raiders would probably kill to get you at a single practice.”

  I make a face. “The football team?”

  Jamison snorts next to me, but I just shrug at Ramona.

  “Yeah, not exactly my scene. I don’t think I speak enough douchebag jock to fit in.”

  Romana giggles. “Well, they’re really not all jock-type assholes, Really. I think you and Beckett, the new quarterback, would really get along actually.”

  “Hey, what about me, Moaner?” Jamison grins, butting in and nodding his chin at her.

  “What about you, ass?” She spits back.

  “I dunno, I was thinking about going out for the cheer squad, think you guys have a spot for me?”

  I hide my grin in my palm as Ramona shoots Jamison a withering look.

  “Not in a million years. Besides, I don’t think you and your ego could fit into the uniform.”

  He chuckles, nodding at her outfit. “Oh, I think I could fit into that skirt no problem.”

  The three of us go dead silent as the joke falls way flat, and hits in a pretty awkward way instead. You know, because she’s about to be our stepsister. Jamison frowns, quickly moving on as Ramona’s face goes bright red.

  “Alright, we gotta go. Try not to blow any jocks on the way to class, Moaner.”

  “Try not to… I mean, don’t—”

  “Awesome comeback, Moaner,” Jamison laughs, patting her patronizingly on the shoulder as he drags me past her.

  “See you later, Ramona,” I say with a sympathetic smile as Jamison pulls me away. Ramona just glares at him with daggers in her eyes before she twirls with a huff and marches away, holding her books to her chest.

  “Wow, so, that was mature.”

  Jamison frowns, giving me a look.

  “Oh, what.”

  “The fuck was that, man? She’s actually pretty nice.”

  My brother rolls his eyes. “She’s a little brat is what she is. Trust me, you didn’t grow up going to school with her.”

  I shrug. “Yeah, well, maybe try being less of a dick to her. She’s gonna be family, man.”

  “Step family.”

  I pause, one brow cocking as I turn to him. And slowly, I start to grin. Jamison stops, glancing back at me and frowning.

  “What?”

  “Dude you’re totally into her.”

  He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Fuck off, weirdo. She’s our sister. Fucking gross.”

  “Well, stepsister, as you were so quick to point out, Mr. Splitting Hairs.”

  He just glares at me.

  “Ethan, you’re reading this way wrong. She’s just fun to fuck with.”

  I just arch my brow higher, and he rolls his eyes and looks away.

  “Don’t be weird, dude. Besides, we gonna talk about that shit on your neck?”

  “What shit on my neck.”

  “Those hickeys, man. You causing trouble already?” he grins.

  Shit.

  I can’t tell Jamison about Emily, even if we share everything. I just can’t. I could get in trouble if what happened got out, but she’d be fucked. I groan inside, my thoughts wandering back to her.

  The fuck is going on with me? Yes, there’s this forbidden allure of her being someone I should stay the fuck away from. But it’s more than that. It’s that I really, really want her. It’s that she ignites something in me. It’s that I crave her. She’s not like the girls I’ve known before. I know how cliché that sounds, in this stupid Mrs. Robinson way, but it’s true.

  “Alright, this is me,” I mutter, glancing into Professor Truman’s math class. The professor himself is in there, standing leaning over his desk going over some homework or something with a cute looking redhead in a cheer outfit. I watch as she puts her hand on his arm as she leans down, the touch familiar and almost intimate. And Professor math teacher doesn’t do shit to move it or move away.

  …I think there may be more dirty little secrets at Winchester than me and Emily.

  “Alright, stay out of trouble, man. See you after school.”

  “Later,” I mutter, clapping Jamison on the back as I turn to head into class.

  I’ve got a problem. A big one. I’ve tasted the forbidden fruit. I’ve tasted Emily Hayes. And now I just want more, come what may, and consequences be damned.

  6

  Ethan

  Two. Fucking. Days. She manages to avoid me for two damn days.

  I’m almost impressed.

  I don’t even have her class on Tuesday, but on Wednesday morning, she even goes so far as to have one of the various teaching aides getting credit at a nearby college for working for free at Winchester to come in and run the lesson for her. Oh, the word is she’s got a cold, but I call major bullshit on that one. I know it’s all just her avoiding me.

  But on the third day, when classes are over for the day, I spot her out in the parking lot. I’m packing my school shit into my saddlebag when I happen to glance over into the faculty lot next door and see my new favorite dark-haired teacher getting into a vintage Jeep Grande Wagoner—the old kind with the wood paneling and all that.

  I grin when she starts the engine, swinging my leg over my bike and starting it as well. I keep my eyes on Emily as she drives off, and I pull out of the lot after her.

  …Yep, I’m following her. And I don’t give a shit if I am.

  But Emily doesn’t get far. In fact, she doesn’t even leave campus. I frown in confusion as she pulls into a side lot near the edge of campus, the engine turning off before she gets out and walks up to one of the sm
all stone cottages that sit to this side of campus. I pull in after her and shut off my bike, my eyes catching the “parking for faculty housing only” sign.

  I hop off the bike and jog over to where she’s trying to find the right key on her keychain, standing at the old wooden door of the Tudor-style cottage.

  “Wait, you live on campus?”

  She whirls, gasping and then blushing as her eyes focus on me.

  “Did you just follow me?”

  “Yes.”

  She swallows.

  “You shouldn’t do that, Ethan.”

  I shrug. “I had some homework questions and didn’t see you at office hours.”

  She arches her brow, a thin, amused smile on her pouty lips.

  “I’m sure,” she drawls sarcastically.

  I grin. “You know, this is kind of funny, actually.”

  “What is.”

  “That you live on campus and I don’t. Seems like it should be the reverse.”

  She frowns. “You don’t live on campus?”

  “No, I live in—” I make an ultra-serious face. “Weiss Manor,” I drawl in my best English butler voice.

  Emily pales. “Celia Weiss is your mother?”

  I frown, shaking my head. “Stepmother. Well, soon to be. She and my dad are getting married this year. That’s sort of what brings us back to Southworth.”

  She swallows, her face still white.

  “She’s kind of a big deal in this town,” Emily says quietly. “I mean Christ, she sits on the school board, Ethan.”

  “How do you think a guy like me gets into a place like this?”

  I grin, but she just holds my gaze, her mouth thin.

  “What?”

  “Do you always do that?”

  I frown. “Do what.”

  “Play the hopeless and uneducated outlaw card?”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m just saying, I’m not a psychologist, but I don’t have to be. You hide behind this broken bad boy image, but you’re a lot more than that.”

  I roll my eyes. “Okay, sure.”

  Emily scowls at me. “You’re not an idiot.”

  “Aww, thanks,” I grin, sarcasm dripping from my lips.

  “Stop it, you know what I mean. I’ve—” She pauses, biting her lip and dropping her eyes.