Deviant Sin: A Dark College Romance (Cruel Desires Book 1) Page 3

  My cock twitches in my jeans, so I adjust myself.

  The entire class was watching her with Eve, and she didn’t give a shit. Her eyes were bright, and her body was coiled, ready to fight. Sexiest sight I’ve ever seen.

  I turn on the TV, needing the distraction. But it does fuck all, because I can’t stop thinking about her.

  I want her naked and beneath me. She’s going to submit to my control. By the time I’m through with Temple, she’ll plead for me to ruin her. My touch, body, and cock will be all she needs to chase that high she’s after. I’ve seen her fire, I feel it too, and I know how to cure it—fighting and fucking. Even better if it’s at the same time.

  I’ll be her addiction, and I’ll make damn sure to use her dependency to my advantage.

  She’s going to make me work for it. A fucking pain in the ass when I’ve never worked a day in my life. No point when money, connections, and fear do the legwork for me.

  People don’t mean shit. They’re disposable assets who’ll pump my cock with one hand and point a gun at my head with the other. Everyone’s got a price, a pressure point, and a motivation. Chicks unzip my jeans, their mouths wet and cunts drenched before I ask their damn names. The less I care, the more they want. They’re all desperate to be the next Mrs. Brandt, thinking the prestige that comes with my name will turn their worthless lives into the fairy tale they were sold as kids.

  Screw that.

  No one’s going to use me.

  Standing, I get another beer.

  Saint’s right. Temple would rather fuck me over than do as I say. She sure as fuck tried to keep her distance on campus. Sitting on the opposite side of the auditorium like it made a fucking difference. Cute she tried. Waste of time, though. A chick like her can’t hide from anyone, least of all me.

  I felt her interest. She tried not to, but her eyes burned the side of my face more than fucking once. From the other side of the fucking room, her body heat made me hard. Lectures were agony with a raging hard-on and no way to sate it. I’d grab the first chick who smiled at me and get her to take care of it. She did. They all did. And then they wanted more. But I don’t do more, and I’m not about to start now. Doesn’t matter if Temple looked away every time I caught her staring. Don’t give a fuck how wet her lips were or how wide her eyes went. It was always going to end the same way.

  Her submitting to me.

  Me using it to my advantage.

  And ruining my cunt of a father.

  No more pretending, time’s running out. Starting tomorrow, Temple—

  “…execution-style murder. The victim, a forty-five-year-old Caucasian business owner, was found dead in The Dunes. A single bullet wound to the head has police thinking his murder is linked to the recent spike in drug-related activity in the area….”

  “Motherfucker.”

  Seconds later, my cell lights up with an incoming call. There’s no point checking the caller ID. I already know who it is. “Saint.”

  “Did you hear?” His voice is low.

  “Yeah. Dad’s trying to pull rank.”

  Saint pauses. “How do you want to play this?”

  “Like we planned. We’re going to infiltrate his organization and get the intel we’re after. Then, we’ll make him pay for what he did.”

  And Temple will help us do it.

  Chapter Seven

  Temple

  Muscles heavy and eyes tired, I lean back in my chair. I didn’t get home until crazy o’clock from the garage last night. At the time, I was amped after my run-in with Sin and the others, but now….

  I glance at my notes. Messy scrawl stares back. Pages upon pages of barely legible theory demand I pay attention. I want to. Normally, I’m all over this stuff, but damn.

  I stifle a yawn.

  “Am I keeping you awake, Temple?” Professor Nate, Bayside Academy’s most respected lecturer, calls from behind his lectern. The fact he’s hot as hell isn’t bad either.

  Hating that he called me out in front of a packed auditorium, I shift in my seat. “Sorry, sir.”

  Snickers sound to my left.

  I glance a few rows over and soon wish I hadn’t. Eve’s smirk makes me want to punch her in the face. Her threat from yesterday hangs in the space between us. She might not have followed through with getting me kicked out of Bayside Academy, but her expression tells me she’s happy to keep me guessing about when she will.

  I need to watch my back, because the second it’s turned, she’s going to shove a knife in it.

  Without meaning to, my eyes slide to the person next to her.

  Broad.

  Strong.

  Deep, piercing stare.

  Sin’s low voice growling I’m not done with you plays on a loop in my mind. It causes goose bumps to break out on my skin, leaving me confused. The guy invaded my space and wanted me to beg him to let me go. What kind of girl gets off on that?

  The professor pushes his black-framed glasses up his nose. “Your disinterest must mean you know the content of today’s lecture. Care to take the class?”

  Is he serious? “Hard pass. Thanks for the offer though.”

  Unfortunately, Professor Nate doesn’t appreciate my wit. He searches through his notes, eventually finding a section at the bottom of the page. “Temple, tell me how the contextual factors surrounding Edgar Allen Poe’s life influenced his renowned poem, ‘The Raven.’”

  Eve sniggers again. In my periphery, she whispers something to Sin, her tits pressed against his side.

  He doesn’t push her away.

  Instead, like everyone else in the lecture hall, he watches me. His gorgeous expression is stoic, belying the challenge flickering in his eyes.

  I turn my full attention to the professor.

  “Well?” he asks.

  Christ. “Um, Poe married his cousin, Virginia, who was arguably the love of his life. She died from tuberculosis, and he was devastated. Because of this, many researchers believe that the theme of loss resonates in much of his work. Like, in ‘The Raven,’ there’s a scholar who’s pining for his lost love, Lenore. It’s a perfect metaphor for Poe’s own grief over his wife’s death.”

  Students stare. Some even slowly shake their heads.

  I want this day to end. “Turn around, people. The show’s over.”

  “Freak show, you mean,” Eve mutters.

  I’m done with her. I’ve reached my dumb whore quota for the day. I’ve got no more cares to give.

  Professor Nate shakes his head. “Nice save, Temple.”

  “Thanks.”

  He continues with his lecture.

  Unlike everyone else, Sin doesn’t look away.

  “What?” I mouth.

  “You can’t run forever.”

  “Watch me.”

  Even from across the room, there’s heat in his eyes.

  Flustered, I look away, reminding myself of what’s important.

  Graduating.

  Leaving town.

  Becoming the savior I never had.

  No matter how hot Sin is, or how intrigued I am by his presence, he doesn’t make the list.

  Chapter Eight

  Temple

  “Shit,” I mutter to myself, sliding my phone in my pocket. “I’m late.”

  I knew studying on campus was a gamble. Losing myself in literature is an occupational hazard that will cost me my business if I’m not careful.

  I can’t afford to lose any customers. Hell, I can barely make ends meet as it is. In class, I’ve worked my ass off to prove I deserve a scholarship, but it can’t be at the expense of my current income.

  Everything will change when I graduate. I’ll have a steady job, an apartment with working plumbing, and I’ll make a positive change for kids who need it. Life will be good. Great, even. It’ll be everything I ever dreamed.

  I can’t screw it up.

  Increasing my pace, I navigate the halls before rushing outside. The afternoon sun slants through the arches of the walkways, but I do
n’t pause to admire it. I’ve got two cars with engine trouble waiting for me.

  Thankfully, campus is almost deserted. Classes are still on, so there’s no one to slow me down. I look about me, cataloguing the safest route and itemizing three possible exit strategies.

  Old habits die hard.

  As I’m about to round the final corner, a voice stops me dead in my tracks.

  “Are you ready for tonight?” Low, familiar, and with a husky edge.

  Sin.

  I dart backward, out of sight.

  It’s been two weeks since my stare-off with him in class. Since then, I’ve made disappearing an art form whenever he’s around. Not because I’m scared, I simply don’t want the drama. But trouble always finds me. It’s a joke the universe never tires of.

  “Bro, I’m telling you.” Saint isn’t as quiet as his twin. “We’ve got shit dialed. Tonight will be epic.”

  I’m torn between wanting to listen and wanting to leave.

  “We’ve thought of everything,” he continues. “Even if word gets out, it’ll be too late for anyone to do anything about it. We’re home free.”

  “We’re home free when Dez’s garage is a pile of ashes and no one links it back to us.”

  What the hell? He’s going to set my dad’s garage on fire? Red-hot rage hits me square in the chest.

  That garage might not be anything special, but it’s keeping me afloat. There’s no way Sin and his asshole family are going to screw with it more than they already have.

  I consider my options. Sin and Saint are blocking the quickest route from west campus to the garage. I could double back and go the way I came, but it’d take a solid forty minutes to walk. I’d arrive in time for my customers to take their business someplace else.

  Or, I could continue around the corner pretending I didn’t hear anything. It would be believable enough, since I have a legitimate reason for being here. I’d have to brace myself to deal with Sin and Saint, but I’d manage.

  “What time is it all kicking off?” Saint asks.

  “At ten.” Sin’s voice is deep. “I’ve been watching her movements for the past few weeks. I know her routine.”

  Asshole.

  “Reconnaissance is the shit,” Saint agrees. “There’s a diner nearby that—”

  “Saint, I don’t give a flying fuck about a diner.”

  “But I’m telling you, bro, they make these apple pies. The smell of those bad boys is fucking sensational.” He whistles.

  Memories of apple pies left on the doorstep of Dad’s trailer flood my mind. Every Thursday, Dad would steal from the garage till, find his dealer, and I wouldn’t see him again until he was coming down from his high a few days later.

  Cynthia cooked for the diner, she saw me after one of my run-ins with my jerk sperm donor, and from then on, I never went hungry.

  I swear to God, Sin. I don’t care how hot you are or how dangerous you might be, if you fuck with the garage, I’ll end you.

  “Saint, focus on what needs doing, man.”

  Sin’s authoritative tone tears me from my thoughts.

  “But the pies—”

  “If we’re doing this, it needs to be fucking perfect. No distractions, no mistakes, and no motherfucking pies.”

  Saint mutters something, but it’s too low for me to hear. It’s closely followed by a loud thump.

  “Dude,” Saint splutters. “Unnecessary.”

  “Shut the fuck up. Temple is like clockwork. If she’s not pulling an all-nighter, the garage is locked at seven, the cops do a drive-by every hour on the hour from eight, and the piece of shit cameras she thinks are protecting the place are easy for Angel to hack into. We’ll be in and out in under ten minutes. No one will know we’re there.”

  There’s a pause. Someone shifts, and I picture Sin resting his muscular body against the wall, deep in thought.

  Heat travels to the apex of my thighs. My previous indignation over their plan mutes slightly, and I hate it. I’m not meant to want the guy who’s planning to screw with my future. Hell, I’m not meant to want him, period.

  Pissed at myself, I wait for this hell to end.

  “Let’s roll. We’ve got shit to do,” Sin orders.

  Their footsteps fade.

  An image of the garage being set alight fills my mind, and with it, my dreams turning to ashes.

  Determination settles in my bones.

  There’s no way Sin and Saint are getting away with this. Those boys might talk a big game, but they’ve missed a crucial flaw in their plan.

  Me.

  They’re not the only ones who can wreak havoc and get away with it.

  Chapter Nine

  Sin

  “Do you think she’ll bite?” Saint looks out the window.

  The garage is dark, the piece of shit laundromat next to it the only light source in the pitch-black street. Place should have been knocked down and redeveloped years ago. This part of Bayside, The Dunes, is full of thieves, murderers, and deviants. It’s the hunting ground for shady deals.

  I pull up to the curb and kill the engine. “She won’t be able to help herself. She’s probably already here.” It takes less than a minute to scout the perimeter.

  Gotcha.

  Pointing to the shadow lurking behind the fence, I nod. “Check it. I knew Temple wouldn’t stay away.”

  “Why is she waiting outside?”

  “Would you be inside knowing we’re going to torch the place?” I counter.

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s because you’re a hotheaded prick. It’s going to get you killed someday.”

  I stare at Temple. Reckless woman. I should take her by the throat and throw her against the wall. Show her that being here, alone, is a stupid fucking idea. I want to spread her legs and tease her cunt until she promises never to do it again. Then, I want to tear an orgasm from her, suck her juices dry, and tell her to do something more treacherous to me.

  Saint whistles. “Chick’s got balls. Don’t know many that’d rock up at this time of night.”

  Warring between wanting to choke and fuck her, I mutter, “She’s not most chicks.”

  Saint watches me, grinning. “Do you want to rub one out? I’ll turn on some music and wait outside the car if you want. You’re going to go blind from blue balls if you don’t do something about it soon.”

  Isn’t that the fucking truth. “Screw you, asshole.”

  The prick laughs. “Is it because of what she said the other week in class? Not going to lie, I wanted to strip her naked when she started talking about poetry or whatever the fuck it was. Can’t remember now. I was too busy picturing her riding my cock, reverse cowgirl style.”

  My knuckles turn white against steering wheel. “Keep talking, I fucking dare you.”

  Saint smirks. “Dude, you’ve got it bad.” He looks to Temple’s hiding spot and sobers. “But don’t confuse a hot rack with our plan. If she gets inside your head, we’re all fucked.” Clamping a hand on my shoulder, he squeezes. “Temple’s an exit strategy, that’s it.”

  “I know what she is.” A firecracker wrapped in a killer body. A curse sent to mess with my head. A possession I will control. Temple’s a temptation I can’t ignore. Not even for my brother.

  Saint lets go, taking out his phone. He scrolls through his messages. “You’re going to bone her, aren’t you?”

  Since I won’t lie to him, I don’t say shit.

  He shakes his head. “Like you said, bro, she’s not like most chicks. Watch your back, because she’ll put a bullet in it. Chick’s wired for violence.”

  That’s what I’m counting on.

  Angel and Eve pull up behind us. He dims the lights and calls Saint’s burner.

  Saint puts him on loudspeaker. “Yo, jockstrap. Where have you been? You drive like a geriatric.”

  “I had shit to do,” Angel grits out.

  “Is that code for a quick fuck?” Saint grins. “Couldn’t have been Eve. She won’t go near your creepy as
s.”

  “That’s because I have standards,” Eve pipes up.

  Saint smirks. “Out with it, cuz. Who’d you pay for a fuck this time?”

  “Shut it,” I warn. Angel hates being questioned about personal shit. Dude will happily butcher my idiot brother, and it won’t be until Saint’s a heap of rotting body parts that he’ll realize what he’s done. Or care.

  “What? I’m curious, that’s all. He never talks about the women he bags. Hell, the dude could be a virgin for all we know. We’re family. We’re meant to share this stuff.”

  “I said, shut it.”

  “Whatever, dude. Just having some fun,” he mutters.

  “Where are we at, Angel?” I ask.

  “You’ve got fifty minutes. Plenty of time to get in, get the job done, and out again. I’m taking your car, and Eve’s taking mine—”

  “She’s what?” Saint exclaims. “Eve, you can’t drive for shit.”

  “I’m a great driver, thank you very much.”

  Saint scoffs. “Have you forgotten the time—”

  Bored, I cut him off. “What about the cameras, Angel?” I eye Temple’s shadow. If she moves, I want to know about it.

  “Sorted,” he confirms. “They were a piece of piss to hack. I’ll text you the code to the garage. Don’t screw it up. The system will lock itself after three tries, and it’s on a twenty-minute timer.”

  Saint smirks. “You’re a miserable dick, cuz. Anyone ever tell you that? No wonder Eve won’t spread her legs for you. She’d get more love from her vibrator.”

  “Fuck you, Saint. She’s not worth my time.”

  “Hey, asshole, I’m right here.” Eve is pissed.

  Saint grins, proving his memory is shot to shit when it comes to self-preservation. “If you’re gonna hit him, Eve, aim for his balls. It’ll be the first time someone’s touched them in years.”

  “Fuck you.” Angel ends the call.

  Getting out of the car, my idiot brother laughs. “He’s so easy to piss off. It’s almost unfair, you know? Like playing spin the bottle with someone who’s drunk as fuck.”