Series: Pieces of Us #2
Publication date: November 26th, 2024
Synopsis:
A love worth dying for.
Hotaru Kido
Leaving Japan was bad. Leaving shitty London is worse. Why? My destination. Willoughby Ridge Boarding School.
It smells as old as it is. No one can find the place on a map. And it's boys only. Did you hear that last bit? No. Fucking. Girls.
Even the teachers. Male. The only pair of tits for kilometers belong to the headmaster's hot little secretary. That's why I got myself in trouble and am sitting in the office when he walks in.
This guy is new. He's gaunt and terrified of the big man behind him. No one seems to notice the wince when he sits or the way he catalogs the guy's every move. I do.
If I'd stayed in class that day, my life would have been a billion times easier. If given the chance, would I have chosen to keep it simple or put myself between him and his tormentor?
Arlo Judge
When your parents and brother die in a freak accident, you certainly think that's the worst that could happen. It's not. I've seen the depth of hell. Felt the burn. Lived the agony.
When I'm deposited in the middle of nowhere boarding school, I'm relieved for the first time in a long time. Only my suitemate sees too much. He gives me hope when I know there is none.
In him, I find comfort and friendship that can't last. My tormentor won't allow it.
With his care and kindness, I see a way out. I have to finish my journey through hell to get there. I don't know what will be left of me, of us, when I get to the other side.
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Excerpt
The moans and keens start as they always do. As it always does, my cock goes hot and hard, tenting my sweats.
"Asshole," I grumble and shove from my desk. My gaze narrows on the air vent that feeds heat to my room... and Hota's. The portal to a different world. A world I don't understand. It leaks all manner of perversion into my room at least twice a day.
I hurry to the sleek clock radio I bought last week on our floor's weekend trip into town and turn it on. The volume is low. Too low. Grunts and gasps still find my ears. I crank the volume higher than I ever have.
The obscure radio station I found yesterday pumps the hardest, most insane lyrics and riffs into my room and my soul.
As it overruns the other noises, my disgust and intrigue wane. My hard-on doesn't. It will.
If I ignore it.
The essay is due Friday. I don't need to finish it tonight, but I will. After that, I have three more to do for my customers. Drug dealing probably pays well on the streets, but in a school full of privileged rich kids, turning out mint assignments pays better. I have more money than I've ever had to my name. It's empowering, even if it's a drop in the bucket in the grand scheme of things.
It's mine, and he can't take it away from me. It's mine, and I can do what I want with it.
Sure as hell didn't want to waste it on a clock radio, but my productivity and sanity were starting to deteriorate. I've found more solace in that little radio than I ever expected.
Three paragraphs into my paper and I know it's already paid for itself. I adjust my still swollen cock and scribble away.
A knock reverberates in my room.
My head jerks up, and my heartbeat echoes in my ears, drowning out the music. The wide peel of my eyes goes to the door.
Who the hell could it be?
I'm not answering it.
I make exchanges in the library. In the back of the stacks. It's discreet.
The knock comes again. This time louder and more vehement. My hands shake, and I squeeze them into fists.
"Open up." Hotaru's voice filters in from the bathroom door.
It's the first time he's ever knocked or even spoken to me since the day I arrived. I'm dumbfounded and staring at the door when it swings open. He steps into my room with his midnight hair slicked back from a shower.
He's sporting black sweats, the outline of a cock the size of a porn star's, and a scowl.
I jump to my feet and put the pathetic wooden chair between us. This room is the size of my closet back home. With him inside, it's smaller. Claustrophobic even. My chest goes tight.
His gaze rakes over me, then jumps to my clock radio. "Turn that shit down."
My spine stiffens. I flex my jaw but say nothing. Instead, I let my body language do the talking. It's been pretty damn effective at this school. With that and a small notepad, I can communicate as much as I want to. Which isn't much.
"I'm trying to concentrate," he snarls. His teeth are so straight and white. And his lips... Nope, not going there.
I smirk and my gaze drops to his crotch. My eyes roll and I meet his dark eyes once more.
His gaze hits my crotch with what feels like an invisible punch. My nuts suck up into my throat.
I forgot about my stupid situation.
"Looks like I'm not the only one trying to concentrate." His lips purse.
"Fuck you," I hiss.
"Hey, it's only natural." He shrugs muscular shoulders. The striations under his skin ripple and bunch.
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