The Wallflower (Oakmount Elite, #1)

by J.L. Beck

Sebastian prefers silence to conversation and usually keeps his door closed, so color me surprised when I see it propped open. I pop my head through the doorway and find him sitting on the edge of his bed, a cookie in his mouth as he turns the page of a paperback. One glance at him and you would assume he’s all looks, with his perfectly moussed hair, devilish smile, and haunting green eyes, but contrary to popular belief, he’s smart as hell. I assume it’s from all the reading he does. We’ve known each other since grade school, and there's never been a time when I haven’t seen him carrying around some type of book. If he doesn’t understand something, he researches it until he does.

"You belong to me. Every whimper and moan. Every orgasm. Every single thought you have is mine. Your sweet little soul and pussy. Mine as well."

“I hate you.” “Hate me all you want, baby. If your hate tastes this good, I can’t imagine what your desire tastes like.”

Perhaps Maybel is more of a wildflower than a wallflower.

I finish stalking through her recent browser history, and pause when I discover a dress she'd been looking at, that she added to her cart but never ended up buying. It takes less than a minute to copy the link, log in, and purchase it for her.

Once I'm dressed with every hair in place, I pull out my phone and snap a photo. I send the picture to my little wallflower and close my phone. Someone should appreciate this tux because I certainly don't.

Why am I like this? Why does he have this control over me? I should despise him, but somehow, I…can’t.

a small part of me craves his darkness and danger. That craves the jagged pieces of his heart.

"Come, Bel. Let me take care of this.” Why is he looking at me like that, and what is he talking about? What is there to take care of? I try to shrug out of his hold, but his grasp is ironclad. “There is nothing to take care of. I’m done with him, and I don’t give a fuck if I ever see him again.” “I understand that, but they don’t get to treat you like this. To toss you out like trash. You’re not trash. You’re fucking

royalty.”

Sebastian walks into the room, his head held high, his eyes blazing, but the rest of his face is impassive, like a prince staring down at his subjects.

"I’m not here to answer any of your questions. The only one who will be asking anything will be me, and my first question is: who did this?"

“Whoever did this to her, they’ll pay. Consider this your only fucking warning. If any of you come near her again, I’ll destroy you, piece by fucking piece. I don't care who the hell you are, whether you’re my friend or what your last name is.”

"Oh, I’m sure that’s what it is, and perhaps I’d believe you if I didn’t know the real piece of work you are. Don’t fuck with my sister again, or I’ll skin you alive with my own fucking hands. There are few things in this world that I give a fuck about, but I won’t have you disgracing her. Touch her again, and we will have a fucking problem.”