Taming the Ivy League Beast

I dropped a fortune to buy myself a young, ridiculously hot college boy. Fresh, vibrant, and practically dripping with raw energy.

Barely a few months into our arrangement, word reached me that he was throwing my name around, using my status to play king of the campus.

Then came the day his roommate—the latest victim of Zane's little power trips—showed up at my office.

The guy was strikingly handsome, even with the nasty purple bruise blooming at the corner of his mouth. He stood right in front of my desk, demanding an explanation.

I let my eyes drag over him for a second. "I'll kick him to the curb and sponsor you instead." Chapter 1 The young guy demanding an explanation was quickly escorted into my office.

When he arrived, I was standing in front of the floortoceiling panoramic windows, pouring amber liquor over ice in a crystal whiskey glass.

I glanced over my shoulder as the door clicked shut. "Drink?" I offered.

He gave a slight shake of his head. "Water is fine." I crossed the room and sank into the leather chair opposite him, sliding a bottled water across the sleek desk.

He took it, twisting the cap off to take a tight sip. I leaned back, letting my eyes do a slow, deliberate sweep over him.

A faded, tight white Tshirt clung to him, outlining the sharp, powerful cut of his chest, paired with wornout black denim.

It was the kind of cheap, dimeadozen outfit you'd see on any street corner. Usually, I wouldn't waste a second glance. But here, he held my attention.

Nasty purple bruising stained his jaw, and a few jagged scratches trailed down his cheek. Even beaten up, his bone structure was striking.

He had the kind of devastating, cleancut, ridiculously handsome face that would put Hollywood actors to shame.

If a photo of him went viral on TikTok, toptier producers would be flooding his DMs in seconds. Zane's dorm must be sitting on a goldmine of genetics.

Two absolute tens coming out of the same cramped college room. My stare must have burned, because his gaze snapped up to meet mine.

I set my whiskey glass down with a soft clack and gave him a slow smile. "I didn't catch your name." "Julian," he replied, his voice low.

I gestured toward his jaw. "You're bleeding. I have a firstaid kit. Need it?" He gave a curt nod.

Eden brought the firstaid kit and set it on the desk in front of him, but Julian didn't touch it. I raised an eyebrow.

Leaning right across the desk, I grabbed the collar of his worn Tshirt and yanked him toward me. The physical distance between us snapped into something dangerously tight.

I held his gaze. His jaw tightened before he spoke. "I can't see the cuts. Can you do it?" I searched his dark eyes for a beat, then let go of his shirt. I didn't say no.

The second the iodinesoaked cotton swab pressed against his split lip, a sharp hiss of air slipped through his teeth.

I eased up the pressure just a fraction. "Eden told me you came here looking for an explanation.

But until today, I didn't even know you existed." He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard before answering. "Zane is my roommate.

There's a girl he's obsessed with, and she happened to talk to me. He lost his temper and swung." "Did he win?" "He lost." My eyes drifted down.

The collar of that overworn shirt had stretched out just enough, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the sculpted collarbones and solid muscle underneath. Yeah, the kid was built.

No wonder he dropped Zane. I tossed the swab away. "So, what exactly do you want? Want me to force him on his knees to apologize?

Or do you just want a check?" His eyelashes fluttered, a muscle ticking in his jaw. His lips parted, but no sound came out. "Neither?" I asked. "Let's change the game, then.

How about this: I dump Zane right now, and I put you on my payroll instead. You get my protection, and full permission to crush him into the dirt." Julian's eyes blew wide.

A slow smirk spread across my lips. "You skipped reporting him to the dean and came straight to my office.

I figured this was exactly the kind of deal you were hunting for." He froze.

Those devastating dark eyes locked onto mine, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he weighed the offer. "I'm a generous sugar mommy.

I let Zane throw my weight around campus," I said. "But at the end of the day, he's my property.

He represents my brand." "Naturally, I keep tabs on every pathetic little thing he does outside." I stood up, walking around the desk to tower over where he sat. "I like your face.

So I'll give you one more chance to answer." "If you find the truth a little too raw, I can rephrase it for you. Do you want to belong to me?" He shot to his feet.

His fists clenched tight at his sides.

I could see the dark red flush creeping up the tips of his ears, his chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow breaths as the truth hit him. "I should go." I gave a single, dismissive nod.

I didn't stop him. Chapter 2 Half an hour later, Eden dropped Julian's background check on my desk. I skimmed through the thin stack of papers in seconds.

He came from a bluecollar family hovering right on the edge of bankruptcy, with both parents grinding away at factory jobs for minimum wage.

His upbringing was spotless and entirely unremarkable. Nothing worth a second glance. His academic record, however, was a different story.

He got into this Ivytier university on a fullride scholarship. He was exactly the type of STEM genius you'd find tinkering with tech patents in a cramped garage.

He had swept up every academic grant available. Logically, with a resume like that, walking into a sixfigure job at a top firm would be a breeze.

But Julian wanted to build his own tech startup, and reality had been busy slamming doors in his face at every turn.

Eden leaned over my shoulder, tapping a manicured nail on the desk. "He looked pretty grim walking out of here.

Didn't you give him the explanation he came for, Sloane?" I playfully shoved her head away. "I gave him an offer. It was probably just a little too blunt for his taste.

He choked." Eden clicked her tongue. "Even I could tell he didn't come up here just to complain about a dorm fight.

You handed him a golden ticket, and he actually hesitated?" I tossed the papers back onto the desk. "Young men always have to drag their egos around." Julian's play was painfully obvious.

He wanted a shortcut to the top, but he couldn't swallow his pride to take it. I could see it in his eyes—he wanted to stand in this room as my equal. But on what grounds?

Look at my net worth, and then look at his.

Eden leaned closer, her eyes going wide as she practically buzzed with the latest drama. "You think he's going to turn you down?" I let out a dismissive laugh. "If he walks, he walks.

It costs me absolutely nothing." "But him? That's a different story." In my circle, keeping a sugar baby on a retainer was practically a rite of passage.

When you hold this much money and power, monogamy becomes a very boring concept.

Regular people cheat and lie in relationships every day for free; imagine what we do when we can afford to write the rules.

Even among my peers, I was known as a ridiculously generous sponsor.

Swipe the card, no questions asked—as long as they stayed within their boundaries, I gave them whatever they wanted.

If Julian walked away from me, he was walking away from a goldmine. If he had half a brain, he'd be back in my office before the week was over. I was actually looking forward to it.

I genuinely liked his face. And the body underneath it wasn't bad, either. By the time I pulled up to my mansion that night, Zane was already there.

The entire house was pitched in darkness. I didn't even notice him at first. I flipped the light switch, and his head snapped toward me. He didn't say a word.

He sat frozen on the designer sofa. The left side of his face was completely swollen, a dark purple ring blooming around his eye, and his lip was split wide open.

He looked ten times worse than Julian. Clearly, Julian hadn't been exaggerating about winning that fight. I narrowed my eyes.

Faint, yellowish stains of iodine ringed the cuts on Zane's face. Let me guess—his precious little campus crush had patched him up.

I dropped my Birkin on the island counter and ignored him, heading straight for the wine fridge. Zane's expression darkened, the silence heavy and suffocating.

He finally stood up, his sneakers squeaking against the marble floor as he marched over to me.

He slammed the limitless black card I'd given him onto the countertop. "Sloane, you froze my black card?

And my limitededition Porsche just got towed?!" I popped the cork on a bottle of Pinot and raised an eyebrow. "And?" The veins in Zane's neck strained against his skin. "What gives you the right to cut me off?!" This was the problem with being too generous.

I had spoiled Zane rotten. I poured my wine, taking my time. "I had Eden call you earlier today. Didn't you pick up? Oh, wait.

Let me guess." "When she called, you were probably too busy playing hero for that girl you're obsessed with." Chapter 3 Zane's face twisted, his jaw dropping for a fraction of a second before he bared his teeth. "Did someone talk to you?!

Was it Julian?

Don't listen to a damn word he says, he's a manipulative little bitch!" I gave him a halfsmile that didn't reach my eyes. "I have a dozen different ways to verify exactly what you've been doing." All the color drained from Zane's face. "So you're dumping me?

Sloane, I didn't cheat!

We share the same advisor, of course we're going to be close!" "You can't just lose your mind over nothing." His voice dropped, shifting into that sickeningly sweet, whiny tone he used whenever he wanted a new Rolex. "Sloane, come on.

I got beat to hell today.

It fucking hurts." He reached out to grab my hand, but I snatched it back. "Dumped?" A cold laugh slipped past my lips. "You seem fundamentally confused about what we are." Just how badly had I spoiled this kid for him to get so delusional? "The word 'breakup' is for real couples.

What we have is a monthly wire transfer and a sugar contract.

At best, you're just my exclusive little distraction." I grabbed his jaw, my sharp French manicure pressing mercilessly into his split lip, forcing him to look up at me in humiliation.

Zane flinched, a sharp hiss escaping his teeth, but he didn't dare pull away. "I'm a very reasonable woman.

I don't force people to stay." I kept my voice dead even, staring down at him with absolute zero emotion. "Since you've found someone else to entertain you, your contract is terminated." I dug my nail just a fraction deeper into his cut. "Don't pout, Zane.

Don't throw a tantrum. I gave you everything you're wearing right now, and I can strip you down to worse than you were before." Zane turned completely ashen.

I leaned in, my lips brushing right against his ear like a lover's secret. "On your way out, do me a favor. Pass a message to Julian.

Tell him I just kicked you to the curb." It took a full week before I saw Julian again. He showed up with a fresh set of bruises painting his cheekbones.

I asked the exact same question. "Did you win?" "I won." He locked eyes with me. "Why did you tell him that I was the one who snitched?" I let a slow smirk touch my lips. "Zane forgot his place.

He had the nerve to walk into my house and demand answers." "I didn't like his tone, so I figured I'd let you beat him up a few more times." I tilted my head, studying him. "Are you mad about it?

Did you come back here to demand another explanation?" He shook his head, then fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

I turned on my heel to walk away, but his hand suddenly shot out, his fingers locking around my wrist like a vice.

A tiny tremor ran through his jaw. "I have something else to say." "What is it?" "Does your offer from the other day still stand?" "Of course it does." I raised an eyebrow. "Tomorrow, my private lawyer will take you to sign an NDA, and then you'll swing by a private clinic for a full STD screening." The grip on my wrist clamped down like a steel vise.

I didn't shake him off. I just looked down at where our skin touched and spoke in a lethally soft voice. "You can back out right now.

But if you walk out that door, there is no second chance." Julian slowly released my wrist. "I'll be there," he rasped. Three days later, Julian stood in the foyer of my mansion.

He looked completely different. The cheap, faded cotton was gone, replaced by the customtailored designer clothes I had sent to his dorm.

I let my eyes drag up and down his frame. "Stunning. I like this look on you." I paused, crossing my arms. "Did you eat dinner?" "I ate," he replied stiffly.

I gave a single nod. "Good. Follow me, then. The bedroom is already prepped." Julian didn't move an inch. I turned back around.

He was frozen to the marble floor, the muscles in his neck pulled taut as he swallowed hard, his gaze darting toward the bedroom door.

A genuine laugh actually slipped past my lips. "I'm not that desperate, Julian.

And I don't force people into my bed." The rigid line of his shoulders dropped an inch as he let out a harsh exhale. It was honestly hilarious.

He was terrible at playing this game, but strangely enough, I wasn't even mad about it. Chapter 4 When I first bought Zane, he was eager and direct. He played aggressive offense.

It was fun for a while, but I got bored of it fast. Julian, on the other hand, was the untouchable ice prince to the rest of the world.

Even after signing his life over to me, he still refused to swallow his pride and beg for my attention. But I was going to break him down piece by piece.

The process was going to be incredibly entertaining. Julian had been living in my house for half a month. Zero physical progress.

We lived under the same roof, bound by the most intimate transactional relationship possible, yet we hadn't even brushed hands.

It was just a polite "good morning" and "good night." Beyond that, his only routine was texting me every day to ask if I'd be home on time.

If I was, he'd be in the kitchen cooking dinner for us. I leaned against the doorframe, watching him move around my stateoftheart kitchen.

He wore a dark apron, the strings pulled tight into a knot at his lower back, perfectly framing his narrow waist.

His tight Tshirt was slightly damp with sweat, the bulging veins and powerful, sculpted muscle lines of his arms flexing with every movement.

This young, testosteronefueled body was an absolute sin, but unfortunately, he wasn't on the menu yet. Julian carried the plates over and set down on the marble island.

He took a seat across from me. I tilted my head, studying him. "Did you buy the apron yourself?" He froze for a second, then gave a stiff nod.

I let out a dry laugh. "Looking like that, you don't seem like my sugar baby. You look more like a highend housekeeper.

Except my housekeeper doesn't pull a sixfigure monthly allowance, and she definitely doesn't get a weekly delivery of luxury watches." Julian's lips pressed into a thin line, his expression locking up completely.

Then, he abruptly stood up and closed the distance between us. He cupped my face with both hands. He pressed his lips to my forehead, and then to my mouth. A dry, chaste kiss.

Zero heat. I raised my hand.

My sharp manicure dragged from the corner of his mouth, trailing down the tense line of his jaw, over the sharp jump of his Adam's apple, tracing the hard cut of his chest and the grooves of his abs. "Doing that just proves you know exactly how to read your sponsor's mood." Julian snapped his hand up, his fingers locking around my wrist to stop my movement.

A flush of dark red crept up his neck, his chest rising and falling in ragged, heavy pulls. He jerked his head away. "Give me more time," he rasped.

A week later, there was a highsociety charity auction. I brought Julian as my plusone. The venue was packed with elite power players from every sector.

People swarmed me the second I walked in, practically begging for a second of my time.

That included the same venture capitalists who had brutally slammed doors in Julian's face over the past year.

Now, they were falling over themselves, eagerly kissing my ass and calling me Sloane