Exquisite Taste Read Online J.D. Hollyfield

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Suspense, Young Adult Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

Exquisite Taste

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

J.D. Hollyfield

Book Information:

He was a dare she couldn’t walk away from. She was a game he was determined to win.
Jensen Stone was thriving in her first year of college. So thirsty for success she could already taste the achievements on her lips. Nothing would get in the way of her dreams, not even the social pressures of pledging. Until one night, she finds herself in the lion’s den of sorority row, accepting a dare she knew she couldn’t complete.
Damien Cross was bored. He no longer craved the dominance and control he had swirling in the palms of his powerful hands. He was determined to walk away from the empire he'd spent the last ten years building. What he didn’t factor in was the unexpected distraction. He might be angry at her inconvenient timing, but the urge to break the new toy dangling in front of him was all consuming. It wouldn’t hurt to play one last time.
One night. His rules. Will she obey his demands to fulfill a dare?
Or will she realize his dark tastes are anything but exquisite?
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J.D. Hollyfield Books

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING me!” Christine, my best friend and now college roommate, squeals, throwing her purse on the floor of our tiny dorm room. She dances over to the full-length mirror tucked away in the corner of our shoebox-sized living quarters and checks to see how her hair fared after our long night. “I’m gonna love college!”

That’s funny, because I’m thinking the complete opposite.

Just over a month ago, Christine and I relocated to the Windy City to attend our first year at the University of Illinois. I couldn’t wait to rise above and conquer. I had dreams. Goals to take over the world…or at least a small portion of it. Christine, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to become a sister. Both had different plans, both of us just as passionate.

When I thought about attending college in Chicago, I pictured historic building tours, breweries, and prestigious university lectures. Nowhere in my plans was there room for Greek life. Pledging. Sororities. And if it weren’t for my best friend who begged and pleaded that we just try it out, I wouldn’t have been caught dead participating in formal pledge week. A whole week wasted on a concept where mean girls rule the world. I wanted nothing to do with it. I wanted to hang in the parks and capture views of the gigantic fountain. Take a trip to the lake and snapshots of people enjoying the beautiful weather and sand. Instead, I spent it swearing to stay strong while holding my morals tightly in place, vowing not to fall for the long list of what we must become to rise up in the college social ladder.

And in college, it’s exactly where a huge chunk of girls lose their way. Sorority life. A clan of girls who want you to be their sister for nothing more than to capture our souls and turn us into their own personal puppets.

Christine and I pledged. Let me rephrase that. Christine pledged. I may have been forced to participate in the nonsense, but the end result would always be the same: I, Jenson Stone, refuse to be anyone’s puppet. I had zero intention of becoming one of them. A fake form of what guys crave. Nothing was real about them, and not a single ounce of their once upon a time kindness was intact. I like comparing them as the start of a Stepford wife—a mold of a girl they once were. I wonder what parents think of their precious daughters who come home after months of being away with attitudes, much shorter skirts, and a sexual track record that would have their late grandmother rolling deep down in her grave.

College changes people. That’s just a known fact. But a sorority transforms them. Turns once nice girls into mean bitches who want nothing more than to ruin others just to feel ahead. Prettier. Better dressed. It never ends. I know you ask how the hell I know, since clearly, I have no interest, nor want to become one of them. I know it because I’ve spent the last couple weeks observing. Dragged along to each sisterhood get-together: social mixer, pajama party, formal, semi-formal, dance, luncheon, pancake breakfast. Jesus, it didn’t stop. While I was rolling my eyes, not falling for their bullshit spiel, my best friend was asking where she signed her life away.

And now, I stand in my dorm room after yet another party, listening to Christine go on and on about how amazing the life of a sorority sister is going to be. And I can’t disagree more.

“Did you see how awesome that house was? Like, we could live there! That could be us. They all share clothes, Brittany told me. I mean, never-ending closets! And, oh em gee, don’t get me started on all the brand names. Stephanie, the redhead? She was decked out head to toe in Coach.”

I toss my jacket on my bed and head to my closet. The last thing I want to do is spend another second in the outfit Christine forced me to wear. “Yeah, I also saw all the scrunched-up, Botoxed faces eyeing me like the outcast. They were probably horrified to think I was there because I actually wanted in their cult club.” I peel off the black halter top, tossing it into her dirty laundry bin.

“Jensen, come on. They were not. Give them a chance! I think this’ll be good for us. We can make a lot of friends doing this.”

“Friends?” I turn to her, offering her my raised eyebrows. “Christine, those are not our friends. More like blood-sucking vampires who want to use us as their little slaves. Did you hear what some of the girls were talking about? The hazing? No thanks. I’m sorry, but I’m out. I was never even in to begin with.”