Savage Heir by Jagger Cole
15
“Helllooo? Earth to Ilya?”
I blink out of my reverie with a scowl. I look up, frowning against the light crowning around the silhouette looking down at me. But then, the silhouette cocks it’s hip and leans in, and my eyes focus.
“Daydreaming?” Julianna McCreed, of the blonde hair, long legs, and tireless attempts to get me into bed, grins at me.
“I was.”
She smirks. “What about?”
“How wonderful it was to be uninterrupted.”
She laughs playfully and sinks onto the stone bench next to me. I’ve been sitting in the rose garden next to Chapman Hall. It’s a favorite spot of mine because it’s quiet and usually devoid of anyone else.
Usually.
“What do you want, Julianna?”
She arches a brow. “Wow, sassy much?”
“I’m not really in the mood for conversation.”
Or anything. Which is why I’ve been skulking around here in the gardens since first period, trying to get my head on straight.
Because it’s been very much knocked not straight since last night.
My teeth grit as my mind wanders back to where it was before I was interrupted. For the hundredth time, I replay the feel of her soft lips yielding to mine. The heated throb of her pulse beneath my grip on her. The way she whimpered when I stole that kiss.
Eagerly. Desperately. Hauntingly.
And haunting me it has been… every single minute of every hour since she ran out of my room. My eyes narrow; muscles clench.
“Oh my God, you’re doing it again.”
I scowl as I turn back to Julianna. “I have shit to do, what is it?”
She rolls her eyes. “Nothing, I just haven’t seen you around much.”
“You know where to find me.”
Unfortunately.
She sighs. “You know what I mean. I mean you and I haven’t gotten a chance to hang out at all.”
“And why would we hang out?”
I see the flicker of hurt in her eyes. It does nothing to crack the steel around the place where a heart might be in my chest.
I am not the “cold-blooded murderer” or the “unhinged, deranged psycho” that I’ve heard murmured about me in these halls. But am I a cold, heartless, ruthless bastard?
Yes. Yes, I am.
But I also see no reason to dance around this with Julianna. Yes, she’s beautiful, and smart, and from the right upper-echelon of society. None of that makes me want her, though. So why not use brutal honesty to get her to back off and save her efforts?
She clears her throat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear like she’s wiping the slate clean. She smiles at me.
“I heard you’ve been spending time with that Tenley girl.”
My brow arches. “Have you.”
She nods. “Like, a lot of time.” She peers at me with a smirk. “Trying to corrupt another innocent soul, Ilya?”
“Julianna—”
“She’s a little plain and boring for you, though, isn’t she?”
“She’s my tutor.”
Her lips purse. “With benefits, so I hear.”
I roll my eyes and reach into my back pocket. I pull out my silver case of pre-rolled spliffs and stick one between my lips.
“You heard wrong.”
“She has a boyfriend, you know.”
I sigh heavily before I light the end of the spliff and inhale deeply.
“I don’t care.”
She giggles and drops a hand to my thigh. “I know you don’t. Bad boy.”
I frown as I push her hand off of me. She laughs again.
“Whaaaat?”
“Stop it.”
“Why?” She pouts.
“Because I’m legitimately unsure how I could possibly make it more clear to you that I’m not interested.”
She drags her teeth over her lip.
“You know that rumor about me and Misha is bullshit, right? That didn’t happen, Ilya.”
I look away.
I don’t care.
“Is that why you’ve been resistant to me?”
“You’re not my type,” I growl thickly.
“What, not a freckle-faced virgin goody-two-shoes who tutors in her free time?” she snaps.
Yes.
But even grunting it to myself makes me pause. Is that why? I’m not Misha, by a mile. But I’ve hardly been a monk. There was a time when I’d have said yes to Julianna—or any girl being half as insistent as she’s being right now.
But now… I frown. Now what the fuck is wrong with me?
I suck on the spliff. But suddenly, Julianna’s leg swings over my lap. Before I can shove her away, she’s settling onto my lap, arms draped around my neck.
“Ilya…”
“Oh my God, get a room!”
I scowl, glaring over Julianna’s shoulder to see Ainsley Hendershire, one of the snobby elites of Oxford Hills, wrinkling her surgically perfect nose.
“Eew!”
I roll my eyes. Julianna shoots her a look. “Fuck off, Ainsley.”
With a grunt, I shove Julianna off my lap. Ainsley sneers at me.
“Smoking isn’t allowed on campus.”
I lean back against the wall behind me before I delicately pluck the spliff from my lips. My middle finger raises as I exhale slowly towards her. Her mouth purses as she glares at me.
“And being an asshole is not a personality, Ilya.”
“Neither is fucking every guy on the football team and thinking nobody knows, Ainsley.”
Her face pales.
“I think I hear a match whistle, actually.” I smile thinly. “Try not to get too wet on the way over to the pitch.”
“Fuck you, Ilya.”
When she storms off, Julianna starts to laugh.
“Oh my God, that was good.” She turns to leer at me. “And so hot.”
My eyes roll. She reaches for my belt, but I stand, ignoring her confused look as I start to walk away.
“What does she have, Ilya!?” she snaps. I stop, my back to her. “Come on! I mean what is it about her?”
My eyes close before I glance back at Julianna.
“She’s smart enough to know I’m fucking toxic,” I grunt. “That’s what she has: survival instincts.”
I leave her still pouting on the bench as I storm out of the rose garden.
There’s a war inside of my head. I want Tenley because she doesn’t want me. At least, I think that’s why. And then there’s the bratva, and what is asked of me. Yuri needs me close to her, to glean information about her father and Patrick’s. But getting into her pants or taking her to bed in order to do that seems fucked up, even for me.
The problem is, I’m lying to myself. I can tell myself a hundred times that I bought Tenley that lingerie to ruffle her, after my comment about her panties from when I was in her room.
But I didn’t buy Tenley five-thousand-dollar panties to fuck with her head. I bought them because I want to rip them off of her.
Rabbits flee. The wolf hunts.
So why aren’t I?
