She’s pretty, if you look past the preppy shit she’s wearing. Long, dark hair. Brown eyes. Her white jeans hug her ass and highlight her hips. I wish she was walking in front of me instead of behind so I could watch that ass bounce with every step.
She’s most definitely Latina, but on the fairer side. Rourke called her Ms. Kline and there is only one Kline in the area and he’s the very white head of the human faction in these parts. Some Human Alliance Corporation bullshit.
I bet she’s half on her mom’s side. And knowing she’s a wolf and that Kline is 100% human, I wonder how she wound up here. And why she isn’t with a Pack. She didn’t transfer into ours. If she had, my pops wouldn’t have warned me away from her.
Wolves don’t do well away from our kind. More so than some of the other breeds, we need our Pack. Without it, our beasts can teeter on the edge of humanity. Des will need to keep an eye on her.
I can already feel that familiar spark of interest. I want to play with her. Make her my shiny new toy. I don’t usually bother with the chicks here. Most look at me as a status piece, a way to climb the social ladder if they’re shifters. And if they’re not, then I’m a means of rebellion. A way to see what a wolf is like in the sack so they can tell stories about how reckless they were in their youth before going back to their boring mundane existence.
Isa doesn’t seem like those girls. No. Those girls will do damn near anything for my attention. If I ask Isa to get on her knees and suck my dick in the janitor’s closet, she’ll blush and run the opposite direction. Or maybe I’ll see some more of that fire of hers and she’ll tell me off and go for my throat? No. Isa isn’t the easy lay type. And I doubt she hands out skin privileges without thought and careful consideration.
I wonder if I can change that…
My pulse quickens, morphing from a slow and steady thrum to a fast and hard clip just thinking about all the things I want to do to her. I don’t care who she’s related to. Brian Kline may be a big deal in this town. I’m sure he’d hate the idea of me sullying his precious daughter. Then again, he’s hooked up with a wolf himself. Maybe he was secretly a shifter lover after all, despite his very public hatred of our kind and all things paranormal. Bet it grates on him to have a wolf for a daughter. Not that I particularly care.
We reach the door to first period. The bell’s already rung, and the door is closed. I make a big show of swinging it open, letting it slam against the wall so all heads turn in our direction. “After you, vanilla.” I wave her in with a flourish.
She scowls and then freezes when she realizes we’ve grabbed the entire class’s attention.
I smirk. “You going to keep everyone waiting?”
Her cheeks turn an impressive shade of pink as she steps forward. I don’t get out of her way, forcing her to brush against me as she passes and every hair on the back of my neck lifts like I’ve been hit with a bolt of electricity. The room is quiet, all eyes on us, and I fight the urge to reach for her.What the hell was that?
She tries to slip into the first available seat. It’s in the back row and closest to the door but the girl sitting beside it shakes her head. “You don’t want to sit there,” she says in a loud whisper everyone can hear.
“Why?”
I snort and the girl flicks her gaze toward me. “It’s his seat.”
Isa turns to look over her shoulder, giving me another frown.
I offer her a bored expression, wondering if she’ll fight back on the seat or do the smart thing and move along. I’m almost disappointed when she huffs and walks toward the front of the class. She has to go around the entire room to reach the last remaining open seat clear on the other side, three rows from the front. By the time she sits, the class still dead silent, her cheeks are a brilliant scarlet. Like a rose. Can’t wait to see her thorns.
“Alright class,” our teacher begins. She makes Isa introduce herself, doing the whole bit of having her stand up. Asking her where she moved from? Does she have any siblings? What faction does she belong to? As if it isn’t fucking obvious.
All the boring basic stuff.
I discover she moved from Star Valley, Arizona, which means she used to belong to the Mountain Spring Pack. No siblings. She lives with her dad. Which I knew already but it still has me a little confused.Until today, I didn’t know Brian Kline had a daughter. Not that I keep close tabs on the guy, but I know my pops does.
I wonder where he’s been hiding her all these years? Kline might be human, but he knows how our world works. My pops told me to stay away from the new shifter, which means he and Kline came to some sort of agreement. But why?
Technically Hellbound High is a neutral zone. At least as neutral as you can be with the four most powerful factions surrounding it on all sides creating a tiny pocket of whatever the hell this was supposed to be.
When she finally completes her interrogation, Mrs. Brookes leaves Isa alone the rest of the period. I have the advantage of being able to watch her without her being able to watch me in return. She takes notes and actually pays attention. She’s a goody-goody for sure which will make it all the more fun when I ruin her. This is just what I needed. Senior year was looking dull but now, things are about to get interesting.
I get lost in my fantasies; my gaze glued to the back of her head as I imagine all the ways I want to hurt her. Fuck her. Ruin her. It’s a sport, and one I just so happen to excel at. If she plays her part well, I might soothe some of the hurt I inflict. We’ll see.
When the bell rings, I wait for her just outside the door. Her eyes are downcast as she stares at a piece of paper in her hands, not seeing me until she ends up crushing the paper between our bodies. Contact.That’s what I’m talking about.
“Watch it, vanilla.” I snatch the paper from her fingertips, scanning my eyes over her class schedule. I could have just asked what her next class was, but where’s the fun in that?
“Hey!” she growls, trying to grab for it, but I lift my hand high above her head, tilting my gaze up to scan over the text. There’s no way she can take it back unless I want her to. Or unless she decides to climb me like a tree. I would be okay with that.
She’s five-two. Maybe five-three. Tiny in comparison to all six feet of me towering over her. Her hands clench into tiny fists at her sides. Her lips press together in a firm line.
My dick twitches in the face of her anger, but beyond that initial outburst, she stays silent.
Hmmm… I wonder what it would take for her to really get angry. To break out of this little mold of manners and set her wolf loose?