Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“I seriously can’t wait to pop your cherry,” he growls loudly enough for the people closest to us to overhear.
“Jasper,” I gasp, mortified that he would blurt out something so intimate in the school parking lot.
“What?” he says with a smirk, getting off on my embarrassment. That’s exactly the kind of guy he is.
“Lower your voice,” I mutter, peeking around to see if anyone is paying attention to our conversation.
“What’s the matter, baby? You don’t want everyone to know you’re still a virgin?”
“Why would I? It’s not anyone else’s business.” There’s so much heat filling my face that spontaneous combustion seems imminent. Maybe that would be a blessing.
“You’re so fucking cute,” he says with a laugh, pressing me closer.
“Yo, Morgan!” someone shouts.
Jasper straightens, glancing around. As soon as he spots his friends, he pivots, steering us toward the rowdy group of football players. The muscles in my belly contract until it becomes painful.
I’ll die of mortification if he brings this up in front of them.
After a few reluctant steps, my feet grind to a halt as I duck out of his arms. “I, um, need to talk with Ms. Pettijohn before first hour.”
“Blow her off,” he says easily. “I don’t understand why you agreed to TA for that old bitch.”
I frown. “I like her.”
He snorts and shifts his weight. “You must be the only one.”
He’s probably right about that. There aren’t many students at Hawthorne Prep who like the older woman. What Jasper doesn’t realize is that it’s not easy to be around all these kids who are drowning in money when you barely have two nickels to rub together.
But the teachers do.
Even though there should be a natural respect for not only someone older but also in charge, there isn’t. A lot of the students walk around here like they’re better than everyone else, including the staff. So, I can understand why Ms. Pettijohn takes a hard line with most of them.
I scramble back another hasty step, only wanting to distance myself from him. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
Instead of answering, he swallows up the space between us before locking his fingers around my wrist and jerking me forward. His lips crash onto mine and his tongue invades my mouth with harsh strokes. One hand snakes inside my blazer to grope my breast. A few of his friends hoot and holler as I press my palms against his chest and shove him away.
“I need to go,” I say breathlessly.
“Whatever,” he grumbles as his tongue darts out to lick his lips.
That’s all the signal I need to spin around and flee before he changes his mind. Thankfully, we don’t have any classes together. Lunch is the only time during the day when I’m forced to interact with him. I shove that thought from my head as I hurry along the sidewalk that leads to the school entrance.
“Damn, your man is fine.” Sloane and her wannabe clones sidle up beside me.
“Yeah, he is,” Aubrey, her trusty sidekick echoes, craning her neck to get a better view.
A shudder of distaste slides through me. If they want Jasper, they’re more than welcome to have him.
“You’re so lucky,” Annabelle sighs, sounding like a lovesick puppy.
At the moment, I’m wishing that weren’t the case.
Over the last three years, I’ve become friends with these girls.
Well…maybe friends is a bit of an overstatement. We’re more like frenemies. What I’ve learned is that it’s easier to be in their good graces than on their bad side. I’ve witnessed them fall upon their prey and rip them apart like a pack of bloodthirsty jackals.
It’s a frightening sight to behold.
Especially Sloane. She’s the leader of this little girl gang and has been queen bee since I stepped foot on campus freshman year. Her blue eyes glitter with self-importance and malice.
I give her a bit of side eye. I’m always conscious of what I say or do when in her presence. You never know what seemingly innocuous statement will be used against you at a future date.
“Speaking of fine,” Sloane says, attention fastening on to someone walking toward us.
When the delicate hairs on my arms rise, I know exactly who she’s commenting on. Even though I should keep my head down and pretend I don’t see him, my gaze unconsciously lifts, colliding with his. A zip of energy sizzles through my veins, electrifying my insides. It’s as if a switch has been flipped and my body is being woken from a long, dormant slumber.
Austin Hawthorne.
I don’t understand what it is about the inky-haired, green-eyed boy that sets my nerves on edge and makes my heart skip a painful beat every time I catch sight of him. This attraction isn’t like anything I’ve experienced before. I can only liken it to a magnet, drawing me closer against my will. Everything about him screams danger. I’ve witnessed his short fuse for myself. I’ve seen him throw punches without the least bit of remorse.