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Brat (Winchester Academy #2)
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The head cheerleader hooking up with the star quarterback? Totally normal.
Cheerleading captain, social royalty, daughter of a senator, and maybe a bit of bitch? As the reigning queen bee of Winchester Academy, it makes sense that I might hook up with Beckett Truman—the gorgeous, cocky, king-of-the-school star varsity quarterback. I mean that Hollywood script writes itself.
But a party dare gone wrong turns into something hotter than I’ve ever imagined when I accidentally give my v-card to his brother, Porter.
…As in, possessive, dominant, and totally hot Professor Truman, my new freaking math Professor. Eight years my senior, completely off-limits, and utterly irresistible.
I know I should be horrified, or mortified. But it’s a little hard to feel anything but bliss when this Queen finds herself in the arms of not one, but two kings. Because Porter and Beckett want to share…
I slept with the wrong brother, and it just might be the hottest mistake of my life.
Each of the Winchester Academy books are completely standalone stories, with no cliffhangers.
Hot, wild, and insta-love galore, with TWO utterly obsessed alpha heroes and an untouched, very, very off-limits heroine. If you love over-the-top, slightly unrealistic, and wildly dirty stories, this one’s for you!
This mfm romance is all about her – no m/m. As with all my books, this steamy novella is safe, with no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
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Her body undulates against mine—the smooth, young, sweat-slicked skin of her back sliding against my rock-hard chest and abs. The smell of vanilla lavender shampoo fills my senses as I bury my nose in that fiery red hair, held in my fist and pulled away from the bare nape of her neck. My lips taste that skin, and she gasps this achingly broken moan of pleasure.
Her tight little ass grinds back against my thick, hot, hard cock, and I grunt as I feel it twitch and pulse against her. My hand tightens in her hair, my lips teasing over the back of her skin. My other hand grips her waist, pulling her against me before it slides up her supple body. My big hand feels like it could wrap around her waist, like I could pick her up with one damn hand and sink her back down onto my aching cock.
Fingers tease over her pale, freckled skin, making her squirm and whimper heatedly as my hand skims higher to cup one soft, full, pert breast. I can feel her puffy pink nipple harden to a point against my palm, and when my fingers tease over it, she cries out and turns her head, eagerly seeking my mouth with hers. I growl as I give her what she needs, crushing my lips to hers and tasting her tongue as our bodies grind together.
This is wrong. Very, very fucking wrong. In the thinnest sense of the law, yes, she’s legal. She’s eighteen. She’s willing. She’s so fucking eager I can feel it dripping down her thighs. But “legal” and “right” aren’t the same thing. I know that, and I keep telling myself that, but the devil inside of me just will not fucking listen.
Touching her is wrong. Hell, thinking about this girl the way I’ve been thinking about her is filthy enough to send me straight to hell. Or, fuck, jail, if this was just a few months ago. She’s eighteen. She’s legal. She wants this so fucking bad I can smell it in the air. And she’s mine.
But that doesn’t make this right.
The fact that I’m nine years her senior is messed up. The fact that she’s a senior at Winchester Academy is worse. But if you think that’s the worst of it, buckle the fuck up.
She’s not just a student at Winchester. She’s my fucking student at Winchester. The tight little ass grinding against my bare cock, turning my blood to liquid fire in my veins is my student. My barely legal, very off-limits, very-fucking-untouchable, very bratty little prick-tease of a student.
And tonight, she’s going to be mine. Tonight, I’m going to bury my cock in that sweet little cunt until she’s moaning for more and coming all over me. Wrong or not, there’s not a power on this earth that could stop that from happening. Not with the smell of her hair in my face, or the feel of her sweat-slicked skin against mine. Or the feel of her tight little body rolling under my touch.
…Not when I already know how she’s going to feel. Because this isn’t the first time. And that may be the worst of it. This isn’t me giving in to temptation for the first time. It’s the second time. Fuck, no, it’s the third. I’ve already had her, and tasted her sweet honey from between her legs, and watched her face as she came for me. I should have felt guilty. I should have been remorseful. I should have wanted to keep my distance, or fuck, quit my job and move across the country.
But I didn’t feel or do any of those things, because the only thing I want is more. I’ve tasted the forbidden fruit, and consequences be damned, all I want is more of the sweetness.
“You want this cock, bad girl?” I growl into her ear, her cry of pleasure floating through the air as my teeth rake the lobe of her ear.
“Yes,” she gasps eagerly, pushing her ass back against my hard cock. “Yes!”
My pulse jumps, and I look up past her shoulder and nod at the other person in the room, sitting on the edge of the couch.
My adoptive brother and best friend.
“Then suck his cock,” I whisper heatedly in her ear. “Suck his cock and show me how bad you can be, naughty girl.”
Every high school has its “roles” that people fill. The nerd. The jock. The outcast. The Queen. The real world is a little more blurred than The Breakfast Club might have you believe, but trust me, it’s all there, and in a place like Winchester Academy, the hierarchy is only harsher, the lines in the schoolyard dug even deeper.
For me, it’s Queen—the Queen. Queen, with maybe a sprinkling of “prick tease.”
Except, not really on that last part. My reputation is much more… well, let’s say “X-rated” than what’s actually fact. To most of the school, yes, I’m a cock tease, but a cock tease that eventually delivers, so long as you’re popular enough—high enough on the social spectrum to turn heads and create whispered gossip that will echo through the ivy-covered halls of Winchester Academy for the rest of the semester. Only the highest of the popular echelons of school royalty get in these panties. Prom kings. Footballs stars. And if you believe the rumor mill, much, much older men who put these school boys to shame.