Without warning, I reached down and gave her ass a hard smack.
"That's for spray painting my car," I said.
Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. "You're such a caveman."
"Caveman? How about this?" I said, smacking her...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Caleb's POV
The week drags on, and all I've been doing is wandering back and forth between classes and my dorm. As much as I try to act like I'm not avoiding anyone, the truth is—I am. Esmeralda makes me want to lose control, and I can't afford that. I only look for assets; she's always been a liability.
I make it through classes—have been for the past three years—only because of my father's influence. The prick is the trustee of Silverstone University. He loves pulling strings to maintain his image. I couldn't care less about image. In fact, I love destroying it. It gives me the dopamine kick I don't get from screwing women. That reminds me—I should give Maddie a call.
Blonde. Thick. Mature. Fucking experienced.
Yeah, I sound like a dick, but too bad—I'm known for being the biggest one. Or having the biggest one, depending on who you ask.
Anastasia should be here any minute. She's got some plans in mind, but I'll have to review them with the rest of my team—without her. Where'd I get a team? Ferguson's money? Nope. My "18-year-old" inheritance? Hell no. My father's money is as good as trash to me, and I'd never use Mom's for the illegal shit I do. It's too pure for my fucked-up intentions.
Everything I've accomplished is because of my own abilities. My ideas. My snooping. I fucking earned this. People love throwing around the word 'nepotism,' but that's not me. That's Trevor Kensington, the one with Daddy's legacy all laid out for him. Something I'm ready to snatch.
God loves injustice. It's clear as hell that I want the mafia legacy more than Kensington. He doesn't even realize he wants out yet, and I'm going to keep poking at him until he does. The hate he has for me is more than enough to keep the feud alive.
The doorbell rings, and I move toward the door, yanking it open because I know exactly who's on the other side. "Ann. Fancy seeing you here," I smirk, pulling her inside and shutting the door behind her.
Anastasia Angeloff has always been the sexy Russian goddess on campus, but unlike her untrustworthy best friend, Cecylia, she doesn't hop into anyone's bed. Not that I want to fuck her—she just has that 'fuckable' aura about her.
Maybe that's just the alcohol talking.
"You're drunk at 4 in the afternoon and you always judge me. That's funny," she says, sounding half-wasted and high.
"Don't tell me you've smoked pot," I say, pulling her closer and sniffing her. Shit, she's becoming an addict.
"Caleb, I've got the details you needed, along with the shipment container codes," she says, stepping back to create some distance.
"Uh-huh, go on." I lean against the wall, suddenly extra eager to start planning.
"But, on one condition." Her eyes narrow.
"Deal." I don't even give it much thought. It's probably some messed-up shit like coke or a drug arrangement.
"You're gonna stop insulting Cecy."
"Ann—"
"No. I'm not on Kensington's side. You know damn well why I chose you from the start. Cecy's finally happy. Can't you respect her decision and leave her alone for once?" It's the longest sentence I've heard from her since she started smoking.
"That's quite the deal, babe," I say, smirking. "Fine." Right now, the information is more valuable than Cecylia. I'll bring her down another way—that's for sure. And what's better than breaking Trevor Kensington to destroy her? Like every tragic love story, right?
Love. I don't believe in that bullshit. It's just a lie people tell themselves to feel secure, to fool themselves into thinking someone has their back. People are selfish—there's no such thing as sacrifice. It's all just an illusion.
I never loved my father. I've always loathed him. I don't have siblings, and please spare me the crap about sibling love—siblings are just duplicates, fighting for attention in the family. Entertainment at best. My mother? She raised me. It's attachment. Love? Hell no, I don't know what that is.
"Good work, Ann. Suck my dick now," I say, smirking as she finishes providing all the details and stands to leave.
Her eyes glaze over, bored as she grabs her heels and walks out, slamming the door behind her. I chuckle at her attitude. But the moment she's gone, my mind flashes back to Esme—the way her eyes lit up when I kissed her, the way she shuddered under my touch.
An Instagram notification pops up, and I scroll down to see Esmeralda's latest post.
Caption:The friend group and a senior ;)
What the fuck? She's leaning her shoulder on Jason after he kissed her at her own house party when she was drunk. I chuckle darkly, running a hand through my hair in frustration. I'll deal with Jason first thing Monday. Right now, I need to fuck something and get her out of my head.
I grab my phone and dial Maddie. She answers on the second ring, her voice dripping with that sultry tone I've come to expect. Within twenty minutes, she's at my door—blonde hair flowing, curves on display in a tight dress that leaves little to the imagination.
"Miss me?" she purrs, biting her lip as she steps inside. I don't bother with small talk. I grab her by the waist, pushing her up against the door, my lips crashing into hers with the kind of aggression she loves.
"You're always so impatient," she moans, her nails digging into my back as I press her harder against the door, my hands already tugging at her dress, sliding it up over her hips. Her skin is warm under my touch, her breath quickening as I yank the fabric down, exposing her full chest. No bra. Of course.
I grab her breasts, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp, my mouth moving to her neck, biting just enough to make her whimper. Her hands are already working on my belt, her fingers fumbling in her haste.
"On your knees," I growl, and she doesn't hesitate. She drops to the floor, her lips parting as she takes me into her mouth, her hand pumping the base. The slick heat of her tongue works fast, but no matter how skilled she is, it's not enough. I close my eyes, letting my head fall back against the door, trying to focus on the sensation—trying to block out the image of Esmeralda.
But it's no use. As Maddie's head bobs, all I can think about is Esme's lips, the way her body trembled when I kissed her, the way her skin flushed when she was pressed against me.
"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, pulling Maddie up roughly. I spin her around and push her onto the bed, her ass up, her legs spread. She moans in anticipation, wiggling her hips like she's begging for it.
I slide in fast and hard, feeling her walls tighten around me as she lets out a loud, breathy moan. My hands grip her hips, pulling her back onto me with every thrust, but no matter how hard I go, no matter how deep I bury myself inside her, something feels off.
Maddie's moans fill the room, echoing off the walls as I pound into her, but all I can see is Esme—the way she looked at me with those wide, innocent eyes, like she couldn't believe what was happening. The way her body responded to every touch.
I fuck Maddie harder, faster, hoping to drown out the thoughts. Her body jerks beneath me, her cries growing louder, but the more I try to focus on her, the more Esmeralda invades my mind. The way she tasted, the way her lips parted when she moaned my name.
Maddie comes, her body shaking under my grip, but I barely notice. I finish, but it feels empty—like nothing. As I pull out, Maddie flops onto the bed, her breath ragged and satisfied. She's flushed, clearly pleased with herself, but I can't even look at her.
"Same time next week?" she asks with a teasing smile, but I'm already getting dressed, my mind still tangled up in thoughts of Esme.
"Sure," I mutter, barely glancing at her as I buckle my belt. She leaves, still glowing from the sex, but I'm left standing there, staring at the door, realizing that no matter how hard I try, I can't fuck Esmeralda out of my head.
