Gunner laughs at her words. “Why the fuck would he pick you as his chosen? He’s stuck fucking you every day after his graduation until he dies. Why would he add a year to that prison sentence?”
Baring her teeth, she lets out a growl and spins around, stomping off down the hall.
“Man, you are going to hate being her husband. She’s going to be a miserable bitch.” He slaps my shoulder, watching her sway her ass down the hall. “I’d keep her gagged twenty-four seven, strapped to a board down in the basement.”
“That’s the only plan I got.” My parents arranged my marriage to Cindy Williams years ago. I was a senior in high school, and she was a junior. We lived in New York; her family lived in California. We took a family vacation to the Alps with them. Both of our fathers are Lords. And her two older brothers as well. Her father wanted her with a fellow Lord, and when my father told him I was going to have my freshman initiation the following school year, wedding bells started ringing.
We spent two weeks in the Alps. The first night there, she found her way to my room and woke me up with my dick in her mouth. I spent more time in bed fucking her than I did out skiing. She’s okay when her mouth is full, but when it’s not, all she does is run it. Nonstop.
“So, what are you going to do?” Gunner asks, getting my attention.
I look over at him. “About what?”
“The ice queen. She’s probably already on the phone with daddy, ratting you out that you chose Blakely instead of her.”
I wave him off. “Let her. Nothing they can do about it.” My father knew I was told to choose Blakely. He understands I had no choice, and he also knows that what he and my mother have arranged with the Williamses isn’t going anywhere. Right now, my focus is to fuck up Matt and his pathetic life. “I got the right girl.”
Gunner slaps my chest. “Speaking of your girl.” He points down at the end of the hall.
I see Blakely walking in the opposite direction with her head down, gripping a stack of books in her hands to her chest. “See you back at the house of Lords,” I tell him and take off down the hall. “Blake?” I holler at her, but she keeps going. “Blakely!” I call out her full name when she chooses to ignore me.
Catching up with her, I grab her shoulder and spin her around. She looks up at me, and she’s got tears in her eyes. I frown. I just dropped her off an hour ago, and she totally avoided me. I knew her watching me get her off would get her worked up. “What’s wrong?”
She looks back over where I was just standing and then back at me. Without answering, she begins to walk off again.
“Blake?” I snap, grabbing her arm. She tries to pull away from me, so I tighten my grip and drag her into a nearby room that just happens to be empty.
“Don’t touch me!” she screams, dropping all of her books to the floor as I shut the door behind us.
“What in the fuck is going on with you?” I demand, getting in her face.
Her eyes narrow up at me right before she slaps me. “Fuck you!” she shouts. She goes to do it again, and I grab her wrists, spinning her around, and wrap my free hand around the front of her. I pin both of her arms to her chest, her back pressed to my front. “Fuck all of you.” She sniffs, then her body softens against mine, and she starts crying.
“Hey.” I let go of her and spin her around to face me, knowing something is seriously wrong. She drops her head, and I grip her chin, forcing her to look up at me. “You better tell me right fucking now what’s going on with you.”
Her bloodshot eyes search mine, and then she shakes her head, her nostrils flaring. “I took an oath to let you fuck me, Ryat. I don’t have to give you anything else.”
My teeth grind. “It doesn’t work that way …”
“Says who?” She snorts, yanking away from me. “You?” Her eyes drop to my shoes and run up over my jeans and T-shirt. When they reach mine, they’re full of disdain. Then she quickly picks up her books before walking past me toward the door.
I step in front of her and slap my hand against it, blocking her exit. “Blake …”
She looks at me, her blue eyes now blazing with fire. Something has happened that has pissed her the fuck off, and I don’t like that she won’t tell me what it is. “Unless you plan on ripping my clothes off and bending me over a desk, we’re done here,” she states, arching a brow.
This bitch is challenging me.
My cock is already hard at her little attitude, but I’m also speechless. Who knew Blakely was such a firecracker? I didn’t. Matt always made her sound like a little flower that he had to protect from the softest breeze.