Dirty Dark Prey: A Dark College Bully Romance (Elite Royal University Duet Book 2) Read online

  My brows furrow. “Who did you say you were again?”

  “Lexi! Isaac!” Another pair of heels clack into the kitchen.

  Turning to them, I follow thin long legs to a narrow face. Closing my robe, my hardon softens as my gaze moves to Lexi.

  These two women look alike though the one that walked in is older. Same eyes, similar striking features and when my dad’s arm comes around her waist, my heart sinks. And my boner drops.

  “You’ve met my daughter.” The older woman straightens up in a black bodysuit.

  That’s where I’ve heard that name before. Cassandra Lyon. Former celebrity supermodel.

  I look to my dad for an answer but he taps on his phone, checked out as usual.

  “Lionel asked us to move in!” Cassandra smiles but Dad doesn’t look as happy as she does and neither am I. “Looks like I’ll be inheriting a son of my own.”

  Wincing, my hangover comes back full force. Talk about a cock block. This girl is on her way to being fucking family.

  “Wait, that means I get to go to ERU?” Lexi places her glass on the concrete island, the double I poured gone. “I’ve been dying to get into their fashion program, some of the best designers have graced those halls and since I’m here, might as well work on my dreams!”

  Dad finally looks up from his phone, twisting his thick stache. It’s the thing he does when he hasn’t delivered on a promise. “Sorry, Lexi, I don’t think that’s—”

  “It’ll be fine,” I speak up, taking another long swig from the bottle. “I can get you in mid-semester.” With the connections (and secrets) we “Kings” have at ERU, I can do anything.

  Lexi’s eyes beam and I have to look down or those thoughts will come back to haunt my mind. And my dick.

  “Thank you," she says, her smile lighting up the kitchen again.

  “Lexi, doesn't Carter Cole go to ERU?” Her mom pipes up and I almost forgot my dad’s arm candy is still by his side. “Give him a call. He’s quite the catch.”

  Lexi’s smile fades. “Uh, yeah, okay.” Pushing a strand behind her ear, it’s like she’s digesting the same thing. Fucking is off the table. “I’ll reach out.”

  “Good!” Her mom claps but my eyes stay on Lexi’s, a twist in my stomach as this feeling takes over me. One I haven’t felt since—

  No. Don’t even think about it, Johnson.

  Lexi Lyon is off-limits.

  So to push that dagger in, I take another swig of my drink and head towards the stairs with a mutter. “Slut.”

  Climbing the steps, the tension has me ready to jerk one out when I hear Lexi’s voice behind me. “What did you say?”

  I take another long glug from the bottle.

  “Why would you say that?” she presses. “If you had actual balls you’d say it to my face.”

  Turning around, that pang comes to my stomach, my eyes roaming her frame. Taking my time walking down the stairs, she crosses her arms. When I get on the bottom step, I tower over her, looking down my nose. Whatever this is, I’m ending it now. “Let’s make one thing clear. Just because you’re living here, doesn’t make you my sister.”

  “I sure as hell hope not.” She scrunches her nose, making her look like a bunny. And now I have to ignore how cute that is.

  “You’re on your own, Lexi,” I say, her cuteness level rising by a thousand as her cheeks redden. “And don’t you for a second forget whose house you’re in. A King’s. When I’m not running this house, I’m running this town so stay the fuck out of my way. Got it?”

  “Listen, this isn’t something I planned.” When she takes a step forward, my hand flies to her throat, pushing her back.

  It startles me, her warmth shooting sparks through my arm. “I don’t care.” Her mouth parts, the smell of vodka coming with her gasp. I want to kiss her but that only makes me squeeze harder, her pulse racing against my thumb.

  “Isaac …” Hearing my name on her tongue doesn’t help either.

  I squeeze tighter, happy our parents are too self-absorbed to notice. “Got it?”

  “Fine.” Her eyes narrow. “Got it.”

  When I let go, my cock comes alive when I see the faint mark I've left. Turning around, my heart pounds before I glare over my shoulder. “And for fuck’s sake, put on some clothes.”

  For my sake.

  But that won’t help. As far as I know, I’m already in big fucking trouble.

  One

  Lexi

  Four Months Later

  He did it.

  That’s the only explanation.

  The dark red patches staining the fabric don’t disappear the longer I stare.

  Red lace hanging from my fingers, my thudding heartbeat matches the drum inside my head. My stomach churns when reality becomes clear but I’m so frozen I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

  Isaac Johnson is a murderer.

  My roommate is a murderer.

  And with my mom flaunting her new princess-cut it’s only a matter of time before he becomes so much more.

  Calm down, girl. That isn’t what it looks like.

  But the accusations are already there. So is the trial.

  And now I have the evidence.

  The vibration against my thigh triggers a squeal when my phone rings. And when I see who it is, my hands begin to shake.

  Isaac Johnson’s name lights up my screen, the smell of his massive closet as smooth and overpowering as he is. Leather and honey. Sweet and bitter. Intoxicating.

  Deadly.

  The racks of designer labels shrink in around me as I bring the phone to my ear. “Le-Lexi Lyon speaking.” My eyes squeeze shut.

  Way to sound like a receptionist.

  “Are you in my room, Lexi?” The sound of his smooth voice makes my throat tighten. While he sounds nonchalant, his direct words are anything but.

  “N-no?”

  “You were never a good liar,” he chuckles. “So here’s a better question, why the fuck are you in my room?”

  “Your uh, your bow tie! Your dad’s bow tie.” I hold it in the air as if he can see me. Can he? “My mom sent me for it.”

  “So take it and get the fuck out.”

  “Isaac …” His name flies out of my mouth like I’m begging for him to explain what I’ve found.

  This can’t be real. I need him to confirm what my heart tells me instead.

  “What?”

  “I-I found it.” The line goes silent and in case he doesn’t hear me, I say it again, the fabric tucked behind my back. “I found it.”

  “Yeah?”

  That’s all he has to say? But all I can push out is … “Yeah.”

  Silence again, my heart pounding in my ears. It feels like a lifetime before he speaks. “If you don’t get the fuck out, you’ll be next.”

  All the anxiety goes to my feet as I push off the floor and rush for the door. Sweat beads down my heated skin, sliding down the shiny halls in my socks. I don’t stop until I’m in my room, and my back hits the closed door.

  My chest tightens like every time he has me under his spell. Like every time his anger boils to the top and overflows onto me. It’s only in those moments that I'm alive.

  But this changes everything.

  Living with Isaac Johnson should be a dream, but now, it’s a nightmare. If I’m living with a murderer, he’s right—it’s only a matter of time before I’m next.

  “Lexi?”

  A squeal leaves my lips before I realize who’s perched on the edge of my bed, yellow gloves to her elbows. “Anna! You-you scared me.”

  Her brown eyes move to the fabric hanging from my hand before they widen. “Have you lost your ever-loving mind?” Her British accent rings through the room. “You put that back.”

  The spacious room tilts, white walls and gold accents blurring. “Wait, you know what this is?”

  “Some childish prank? Some sick joke? I don’t know, matter of fact, I don’t care. Put it back. I’m not losing my job over knickers.” She stands to her fee
t, approaching me with a laundry basket under her arm, a plaid shirt rumpled on her curves. “What on earth were you doing in Isaac’s room anyway?”

  “Me?” I blink. “Anna, is this what I think it is?”

  “All I know is that the last time I touched it, he threatened to have me deported to England and I’m not missing out on an opportunity at ERU for a thong.”

  “A bloody thong,” I argue. “You do know he’s on trial for murder, right?” My eyes widen. “Am I holding the evidence?”

  Anna rolls her eyes “I’ve been in Eden too long to know that this is nothing but some sick, twisted joke. This town is a mess. Don’t feed into it or you’ll drive yourself mad. Now … Are we going to talk about why your room looks like a sorority house and why you also smell like one?”

  She pivots to the side, ignoring this thing in my hand to remind me of the state of my room. And the state of me. Moving to the window, she opens sheer pink curtains next to my new white vanity, the sunlight blinding me. Wincing, my head pounds as she picks up a bottle of strawberry vodka off my lilac duvet. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

  “It’s not what you think.” She’s implying I fell “off the wagon.” Can I even be on the wagon? It’s not like I have an addiction, just a monster of a mother. “It was one night.” Taking the bottle from her, I toss it in the sparkly bin by the door. “When I heard she was coming back …”

  “I know, I had a couple of tall pints myself." Her hand comes to my head, resting it on her chest. Anna's only five years older but she’ll be a great mom one day. She’s already better than mine. “You’ll be fine. Now, I’ll pick out a dress for the party tonight while you go downstairs and eat that grilled cheese I left out. All of it. I made it with whatever fancy cheese they had laying around. Gruyere, brie, mimolette ...”

  My stomach churns at the mention of food but there’s no way I can deny it. “I know what that means and yes, I’ve been eating.” Glancing at the gold-framed mirror by my door, I check out my stickly figure. “And you’re not picking out a dress. You know I make my own.”

  “You sure?" She scratches at her bob. "Your outfits always stir her up.”

  “Everything I do stirs her up, she’s a narcissist …” My words trail off, my eyes falling to the laptop still open on my bed.

  Shoot. Anna can’t see the screen but I know what’s on it and I do not want her to find out.

  Trying to play it cool, I skip over the furry white rug, making my way to it. “What are you doing here so early anyway? Don’t you have class?” The light on my laptop screen doesn’t make this hangover any better. But dimming it is like telling everyone you’re not a slut even though you work a PleasureChat account.

  Not effective.

  “Your mom offered me a full-time gig.” Anna picks up a sock off the floor

  “And you took it? What about your classes?” I grab it from her hand. I’m not from Eden. I don’t need a housekeeper doing my dirty work, no matter how nice it feels to never have to clean your room.

  “She doubled my pay so I took a year off." She grabs the sock. "This way, I won’t have to work during classes next year.” Her hand comes to her hip. “Don’t change the subject. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I’m about to log off before my eyes land on something that makes my heart skip.

  No. I’m definitely not okay.

  ItsGravyBaby: Thanks for letting me see the real you. When can I see your face again?

  Blinking, my falsies stick together as the room spins.

  “When can I see your face again?”

  To anyone else, that wouldn’t be an alarming statement. But for a girl who makes her money behind a mask on a cam-site … this could change everything.

  “Lexi?”

  “What?” My head whips to Anna, my palm coming to my temple, dizziness setting in.

  “I asked if you were okay?” She moves to my bed as I lower the screen. “This must be a lot for you.”

  Raising the red fabric in the air, I avoid the question. “I don’t know, will I ever find out why Isaac has this?”

  “Why Isaac has what?”

  My mom’s phony posh voice makes my eyes widen before I shove the thong under my bed, between a box and my feathery mask. The one I didn’t wear last night.

  “Welcome back, Miss Cassandra,” Anna floats towards the door before my mom can enter. A hand on my mom’s back, Anna leads her to the stairs, saving me. “Let’s get your bags to your room, yeah?”

  When they clear the room, I pull my laptop closer. Reading the name again, I wince through the pain, glancing at the door as I try to conjure up memories of the last twelve hours through a hazy head. I can’t remember who he is but I know one thing’s for sure, this can’t get out.

  PrettyInPlastic: Please keep this our little secret. My life depends on it. xoxo

  While I wait for a message, I scroll through our history to see how the hell this even happened. A message at one in the morning confirms it.

  Deposit: $2,500 (Private Session - “ItsGravyBaby”)

  Streaming with a mask is a little unconventional in my line of work. But paired with my killer wardrobe and my charming skills, my gig pays off.

  Not if everyone knows what you do.

  Last night flashes in my mind again, my eyes moving to the bottle in the bin.

  That’s what started it. But my usual clients aren’t anything like this guy. He was alluring and charming. Easy. And a client rarely gets me off, but this guy, he was different.

  ItsGravyBaby: Your secret is safe with me. I’m a lucky guy.

  A smile pulls at my lips.

  No! No! He’s just a client!

  But that smile doesn’t go away.

  Ding!

  A chime comes from my phone.

  Anna: Your mom wants you downstairs in 20

  Crushing on this guy from PleasureChat isn’t going to get me out of this.

  Just like last time.

  But making it in this town will. Pushing off my bed, I head to the door, giving a pat to my vision board. Along with killer designs and bags of money, it also features the school and the profs I need to impress to do just that. My eye on the prize, I’ll make it here and I'd be stupid to let anything get in my way.

  So maybe Anna’s right. That thong is all some twisted joke.

  “If you don’t get the fuck out, you’ll be next.”

  And Isaac leans into his future role of an older sibling way too hard.

  After a shower, my room is spotless when I’m back, the bed made and topped with a fluffy pink blanket.

  “Lexi!” My mom’s voice bellows through the spacious home as I’m pulling my gray socks to my knees.

  “Hold on!” My head pounds as I move to the stairs.

  Mom stands at the front door, swivelled open as Anna drops more bags on the concrete floor already littered with designer labels. Dior. Louis Vuitton. Gucci. Chanel.

  “There you are …” Mom’s voice trails as she eyes my outfit.

  Not sure what she’s twisting her mouth about. My purple velvet cami and matching shorts are much more comfortable than her sheer skin-tight dress. Her current fiance eyes me like the last piece of steak, looking above the white phone that matches his suit.

  Mom looks between us before she stands tall to appear thinner. She might have lost her career but she hasn’t lost her tricks. “Lexi, why do you look like a little—”

  “Whore?” I finish, raising a brow that makes my head rattle.

  “What if someone sees you?” If she only knew just how many people have seen me in much less. “They’d think they can—”

  “Touch me? Yeah, that’s the message we send our men. Forget training them to not touch without consent."

  My mom waves me off before she hands me a small Tiffany box. That confirms everything else is for her and she wants me to know it. “Wear this to the engagement party and tell the press we both gave it to you. It’s from Milan.” Why my mom went all the way to
Milan for Tiffany’s is beyond me.

  Her fiance finally looks up from his phone and my tits. “Do you think we should be having another engagement party? Isaac comes home tonight.”

  Did I mention Isaac is the son of the famous musician, Lionel Johnson? And boy, does he act like it.

  “That’s why we’re celebrating,” Mom argues, turning towards him on her red-bottom stilettos. “We haven’t had a chance for a photo—party with all four of us in attendance.” She means photo.

  My phone vibrates against my leg, tucked into the pocket of my shorts.

  Rayne: Pick me up tomorrow? Perez has practice and I’m not waking up at 5.

  With a smile, I text back the girl who’s becoming my closest friend as Mom and Lionel go back and forth.

  “I understand, Cassandra,” Lionel sighs. “But is it the best idea to have the press here after Isaac … you know …”

  “Wait, you think he did it?” Looking up from my phone, I centre my gaze on Lionel’s big brown eyes.

  He's quick to wave me off like my mom. “That’s not what I’m saying." Lionel Johnson takes care of himself as much as his son, minus the stagger but his breath is just as boozy. He’s in his fifties but his skin is as smooth as melted chocolate. “After his week away, he doesn’t need that kind of attention. Not when he’s on trial.”

  “Nonsense!” Mom cuts in. “It’s great for his image if people see us all as one supportive unit. Especially when the media paints him as a psychopath. People like that don’t usually have a family and that’s what we’ll look like. One big happy family.” She takes Lionel’s hand, gazing into his eyes with the look that traps them all.

  As I text Ray, my mom squeals, getting Lionel’s approval. “Call Carter Cole!” she yells, stopping me from sneaking upstairs. “He’ll be your date.”

  My shoulders drop as I stand in the middle of the hall decorated with platinum records. Carter Cole is the last person I want to see.

  Turning around to face my mom, she arches her thin brow, challenging me. “Mom, I’m tired.”

  “So what?” she asks. Lionel excuses himself to the kitchen as she clicks her heels closer. “Since you choose to party like a whore you can at least give yourself better options. You speak all smart, but you’re not, Lexi. You’re as stupid as I was.”