Lust (The Elite Seven #1)(12)

Our old man liked to play the hotshot, and he was rich, but it was our mother’s money and power that shrunk his junk. He blew the only thing he ever did right, marrying her, by letting his ego and dick control things.

My mother was one of the most popular residents and business owners in this town, inherited properties from her own father, and now can’t stand to be here. She fled, leaving me at the mercy of my merciless father.

“Get dressed and get out. School starts today. I had to pull too many strings to even get you in there, so all this shit has to stop. I can only do so much before I just wipe my hands with you, boy.”

He says “boy” with a growl, and I offer him the middle finger, then flop back on my pillow. The soft cushion cocoons my hangover.

I intend to earn my mother’s respect back, make her proud, and make my father regret ever telling me I’d amount to nothing and it should have been me who died that night.

That’s something we can agree on, but it’s not how it is.

Studying law will be my new promise to his memory. I’ll make sure fuckers don’t get off so lightly when they tear apart lives.

“Rhett,” Dad barks again, alerting me to the fact that he didn’t take my middle finger salute as a hint to fuck off.

“Move your ass, and for God’s sake, put some clothes on.”

The door slams closed, and God lifts his head from the floor.

“Did he say my name?”

Grinning, I throw my pillow at God’s head.

“Dick.” He grumbles.

Time to get up. Untangling myself I shift out the bed to my feet before trailing my ass into the shower.

I didn’t need him riding my ass. I have no intention of fucking up on my first day.

There’s shit I need to prove.

Catching my image in the mirror, I groan. My dark irises are accompanied by red specks discoloring the whites of my eyes.

My full lips are dried out, and my mop of brown waves is sticking up in every fucking direction imaginable.

Rubbing a hand over my torso, I notice I’ve dropped some weight lately, making my six-pack look more shredded. I need to eat more.

“You finished checking yourself out?” God snorts, sauntering into the bathroom and taking a piss.

“I look like shit,” I grunt, flicking the shower on and allowing the steam to fill the space.

“I’ve been telling you that for years. The chicks disagree, though. What can you do?” he mocks, shaking his junk and leaving me to it.

I step under the shower spray, and the water punishes down on me a degree below scolding. I allow the heat to cleanse me of my sins from the night before while trying to conjure up the memory of who I was with, but the women all blur into one.

God was right about the chicks seeing gold where I saw copper. I don’t know why they fuck with me, but they can’t get enough. It doesn’t matter whether I even remember their names the next day.

I’ve always been a party boy.

Captain of the football team, wealthy, and according to my English teacher, “stupidly good looking.”

That’s what she panted as she pawed at me while I fucked her on her desk the last day of summer school.

She’d been begging for it since she saw me changing in the corridor one time.

Her subtle looks and excuses keeping me behind after class made it obvious she wanted a taste, so I gave it to her, and she gave me the grade I needed.

Everyone wanted a taste, and I’d always been keen to give it to them—until recently. I’d lost my urges since my brother’s death. Sexual gratification reminded me too much of why I was late that night, and as much as I play the part of being the lust-filled pussy-chaser, there’s a crater size hole in my chest threatening to consume me at any given moment.

God got me through each day still breathing. He has his own issues, and together, we’re a lethal fucking mix of chaos and sin.




“You wearing that?” God smirks when I leave the bathroom fully dressed in suit pants, a shirt, and tie, my dark hair contained with hair wax, giving me a professional look instead of the just-dried-straight-from-the-shower look I usually rock.

“Getting into The Elite is my only way out from under my dad’s money and fucking guardianship. I need them to help me get the man who killed my brother. I need to look the part,” I remind him.

“Dude, looking like some preppy geek won’t get you into The Elite. You’ve already laid the groundwork, you need me to talk to my dad?”

“No, it’s cool”

It was my dad that was the problem.

My brush with the law after burning down the post office nearly tarnished our family name in the eyes of my dad, now he was being a dick.

What he didn’t know was that my brush with the law was all part of me laying the ground work to be chosen for the Elite.

Dad said it was a close call and one he wasn’t taking lightly.

“It’s a miracle they’re ruling it an accident.”

But I knew better. It was no miracle; The Elite fixed the problem.

The Elite could take care of my tuition and give me the means to set myself up in my own place, sever the parental rights, and free me. And get me the information I need on the prick who killed Robbie and help me take him down. He fucking deserves more punishment than a tiny fine.