Page 17 of Dean's Delinquent

Thatcher also comes closer, his eyes gleaming as he waits for salacious details that will never come from my lips. Arching back into my seat, I stretch and open my hands. “What’s there to tell? She’s a student. Nothing more.”

“She’s the press,” Thatcher hisses. “Do you know how dangerous it is to have a newspaper on campus?”

“Yes. I weighed the pros and cons and decided to do it. That is my prerogative, after all.”

“Oh,” he replies. “And I’m sure it had nothing to do with that innocent cunt between her thighs.”

Sergei steps forward, his hand resting over where I’m sure his gun is concealed. Raising my hand, I motion for him to back away.

“She is a student, and she is the press. I brought her here to keep a close eye on her. Nothing more. I’m not an idiot, despite what you obviously may think.”

“So she’s fair game then?”

Murderous rage blazes deep inside my gut. Under the table, I close my hand into a tight fist, but leave it there. No sense in causing a scene.

“From what I can tell, her parents already have plans for her. Seeing as you’re not the one who took her to the dance floor, it’s safe to assume they don’t include you. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Unable to stand his presence any longer, I make my way to the dance floor. She’s been with that pathetic excuse for a boy long enough. Now, it’s my turn.

ChapterSeven

Ashleigh

Caldwell’s fingers slide further around my ribcage, holding me tightly against him as he turns me into a spin. All I want to do is gag as he presses his hip against mine, allowing me to feel his erection. Unfortunately, there’s fuck all I can do about it.

Glancing over at my parents, I note their bright smiles as they look between us and his parents. Not exactly an arranged marriage, but I’m sure there’s some sort of understanding between them. An understanding that doesn’t include me. As usual, I’m being overlooked for the ‘greater good.’

What greater good? The wealthy getting wealthier? Do they really need to align themselves with each other? I haven’t a clue as to the entirety of my family’s fortunes, but I’m pretty sure the Morgans need us far more than we need them.

Pain slices down my jaw as I do my best to keep my expression neutral. No doubt all I’m doing is looking constipated. If Caldwell notices, however, he makes no mention of it. The neanderthal probably thinks I’m enjoying his attentions.

And why wouldn’t he? I’m sure if he went to school here, all the girls would be clamoring for him to look their way. It’s to be expected from money-hungry little gold diggers.

“Look at me, Ash,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers under my chin to force my gaze to him. “I don’t know why you keep fighting this.” Again, he hugs me close, as if we’re intimate lovers instead of someone I can barely tolerate. “Look at how happy your mother is. Look at how proud your father is.”

Even if he hadn’t pointed it out, I would have to be blind not to notice. They both sit there, preening as if their precious little jewel is out there on display alongside the crown it will soon be set in. How could they know this sack of flesh and bones does nothing for me?

It’s not like they asked me or anything. Not that they’d care to ask in the first place. As the only daughter, I’m to be seen and shown off. Definitely not heard. Definitely not allowed to have an opinion.

“Why do you fight this so hard?” he repeats in earnest. “You know I can make you happy. You could stay home and lounge about the house.” His voice drops an octave as he slides his hand across my flat stomach. “You know, raise the children alongside the nannies.”

As quickly as he touches me, he pulls his hand back and rests it against my lower spine, just above the swell of my ass. His touch is familiar, owning, as if he’s already somehow gotten me, and I haven’t even said a word.

Glancing up into his calculating gaze, I do my best to stay calm. As it is, I’m sure he can hear just how fast my breath flows past my lips. With each inhale, his lids drop, narrowing them even more.

It’s predatory, but not in the way Dean Anderson was. Where his heated gaze made me feel giddy and wanton, Caldwell’s just makes me want to scrub my body clean until I bleed. It’s as if this oaf has already planned our entire future, but he forgot one important thing—where in the hell do my plans fit into all of this?

My lips curve into the most gracious smile I can muster as I do my best to put some space between us. “And what about my aspirations?”

“What aspirations?” He gives a very undignified snort before spinning me around once more. “Scribbling in that little notebook of yours? Come now. You’re eighteen. Almost nineteen. At a prestigious college, no less. Don’t you think it’s time you actually think about your future for once?”

“That’s precisely what she’s doing.” Next to my shoulder, a deep, gruff voice ripples along my skin, setting every nerve on edge. “The moment she was accepted into Loftry, her position in the world was secured. Graduates from here have little to no trouble making their wishes and desires come true.”

Even though I know he’s talking scholastically, I can’t help the shiver of lust that zips down my spine at the word desire. It’s crazy. The man is old enough to be my father. I shouldn’t feel these things so keenly.

Yet, as I gaze up into Dean Anderson’s face, I note the way his jaw clenches as he stares down the man wishing to strip me of everything that makes me, me. It’s fierce and protective, as if maybe he feels the same way about me? But that’s insanity.

Today’s meeting in his office proves he only finds me an annoyance. As the memory permeates my brain, my ass clenches as arousal pools in my body. None of this makes sense. I shouldn’t crave the pain I know those hands can provide.

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