Wicked Titan: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Golden Olympus Academy Book 1)

by A. J. Logan

  Grant is leaning against my car by the time I get there. He pushes off, watching me as he steps to the side. I yank the door handle open, sliding into the driver seat as I move to close the door when his hand catches it, keeping it open and exposing me when I just want to disappear.

  “Quinn,” he mumbles, bending down in the doorframe so he’s eye level with me as I keep my gaze forward, staring out the windshield. Right then, Asher storms out of the school door, approaching Allison.

  “Hey,” Grant whispers, “are you okay?”

  I keep my anger fixated on the source of my pain.

  “Asher’s not worth it, Quinn.”

  It’s almost as if Asher hears Grant speak his name. Unhurriedly, Asher’s head lifts, his eyes bore into me, which causes my fingernails to unconsciously dig into the smooth leather of the steering wheel. “I need to go.”

  “Okay.” Grant sluggishly stands as Asher’s glare shifts to him. “I’ll see you around.”

  The door shuts but my hands remain on the steering wheel. Methodically, I reach over to shift the car into gear. He’s not worth it, but that’s not going to stop me from inflicting his misery right back on him.

  44

  Scribbling notes, I’m too focused and don’t see Elliot take his seat, but he makes sure I know he’s there, just like usual.

  “Quinnster, it’s time.” Elliot snatches my pencil out my hand, tossing it over his shoulder, it hits the back wall of the classroom.

  I turn my head to see his smiling face. “Go find my damn pencil.”

  He ignores me as he continues being annoying. “Party tonight. Don’t bail on me again.”

  I’m well aware of the party because Victoria had asked me at lunch if I wanted to go. It almost sounded fun until she mentioned the location—her house which also belongs to the maddening presence that is impossible to ignore and sitting at the table beside us.

  “And don’t worry, Allison won’t be—” A deep throat-clearing cuts Elliot off.

  I can fill in the rest of it. Allison won’t be there. Victoria mentioned that too, alleging Allison was responsible for the text Wednesday. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least, however it doesn’t change Asher’s response, or lack thereof. And even if Allison hit the send button, she still had to have gotten it when he took my phone. No matter what, who, when, why, where … it all leads back to Asher.

  “Don’t care if she is.”

  Asher’s low snicker mocks me. Why can’t I just get him out of my head? Probably because he’s always there, lurking just within sight but out of reach, tormenting me. Even when he’s not around, he’s still there—in my bed, in my shower, in the freaking garage.

  “I’ll be there.” The words come out with more force than I intend as I notice Asher’s jaw tighten. He loathes me so much the only thing that causes him a reaction is my presence, so I’m about to smother him with it as much as he is suffocating me. He’s about to see just how confining I can be.

  45

  I’ve made plenty of stupid decisions in my life—taking the fake threesome picture being one of them—but this decision has to be the most idiotic. It was made even worse by the fact that I took the time to get dressed up, selecting a short black minidress that Candace had picked out and hung in my closet. I feel out of place wearing it as I tug the hem down, trying to figure out what Candace had been thinking when she’d bought it for me. Unless she hadn’t even taken the time to select the outfits and had someone else do it. That’s possible; even so, I was hoping to look the part even if I don’t feel it because I’m not in the mood for a party. I just want to hide in my room, and I almost backed out and did just that but memories from last weekend changed my mind.

  I walk through the open side gate as cars pull up the drive, parking anywhere there is an open spot, and there aren’t many, even though the area is as big as the stone mansion it sits before. From the looks of it, it rivals Nathan’s house in size, which makes sense as I remember Victor competes with Nathan in all aspects. It’s a toss-up on who has the bigger house, but the one thing for sure is they are both overcompensating because a small village could live in half of either house.

  Carefully stepping up the uneven stone path, I’m glad I decided to forgo heels in favor of my sandals instead. The dress felt out of place enough, I had to have something that felt like me even if it was just my shoes.

  Stepping inside the enormous red door, I decide Nathan won the battle of houses. Don’t get me wrong, the Hastings’ mansion is immaculate, elegant, and gorgeous, but even filled with the swarm of partygoers, it feels cold, intense, and museum-like. Nathan’s is welcoming, homey, and comfortable, which explains even more why Victoria said they’d hid out there when they were kids.

  The loud music overpowers all the celebrating voices as I make my way to the kitchen. Victoria said she would be waiting there when I’d messaged her that I was headed her way.

  Stepping into the kitchen, I spot her sitting on the counter, a drink in her hand as Elliott stands next to her. His usually playful expression is nowhere on his face as Victoria stares past him, a look of pure boredom on her face.

  She waves, her face lighting up when she sees me walking over. Elliot is staring at her but she’s still ignoring him.

  “Quinn! I’m so hap-py you are here!” She slurs a bit as she speaks, which tells me she’s been enjoying the party for a while. She pats the black granite countertop next to her as she holds out the shot glass in her hand.

  I haven’t had a drink since that night, haven’t even wanted one until now. Hopping on the counter next to Victoria, Elliot looks to me. “Just keep her from doing stupid shit.”

  “Worry about yourself, Bah-ass,” Victoria says. Downing a shot, she refills the glass, then passes it to me.

  The shot of amber liquid burns my throat, causing me to cough a bit before handing it back to Victoria. She immediately refills it, passing it back. I hold it for a second before downing it too.

  Elliot curses under his breath as he shakes his head. “Come get me if there’s a problem.”

  Victoria pours another shot, gulping the liquid in a swift move before slipping her hand across her mouth, wiping away a drop that trailed down her chin. “You are the problem.”

  A stare down ensues as the liquor is poured again. Just before she is about to swig it, Elliot snatches it from her hand, splashing the liquid on her bare thighs before downing the remainder of the amber liquid in the shot glass.

  She brings the bottle to her lips, tilting her head back to take a generous swallow. Her bleary eyes challenging him.

  He steps next to her, his hand wiping the liquid off her thigh as he leans forward, saying something in her ear. She tenses before he turns to walk away.

  Damn. What the hell did I just step into?

  She looks to me, panic on her face. “Don’t—”

  “I won’t.” She doesn’t want me to tell Asher because it’s more than clear that whatever is going on between her and Elliott is anything but brother-and-sisterly and something I’m sure Asher wouldn’t approve of happening between his best friend and sister.

  The liquor is taking effect as I glance around the kitchen. Spotting a group looking like they’re having the time of their lives on the makeshift dance floor, I ask, “Wanna dance?”

  “Yes!” Excitedly, she takes another drink, passing me the bottle from which I take a liberal pull before handing it back to her.

  We hop off the counter, dancing our way through the crowd as the music takes over my thoughts. Smiling, I welcome the pleasurable buzz that’s overtaking my mind.

  My eyes close as I dance with Victoria, swaying along with the music. When my eyes open, I meet Asher’s gaze. He’s standing on the staircase, propped against the wall as he watches. Satisfaction sails through me, enjoying his rigid stance. A mischievous smile spreads across my face as I turn my back to him, rotating so Victoria is dancing in front of me.

  Raising my arms above my head, I dance with abandon,
enjoying the free feeling as my hips sway with the beat of the music. The crowd grows, closing in, bodies are swaying all around us. A guy I don’t recognize moves in front of Victoria, placing his hand on her waist as she turns to him. A guy from math class—Connor, I think—dances in front of me and I follow along. He moves his arm around me, pressing his palm to my lower back as my arms drape over his shoulders. Feeling the beat and in sync, we move together until he stiffens beneath my touch, his eyes locked over my shoulder. Rotating to who I know is standing there, I find Asher still as a statue in middle of the crowd that dances on.

  “Go. Away,” I yell, turning back to my dance partner who’s also stopped moving. Instead of sticking with me and ignoring Asher, he backs away before disappearing in the crowd. Pussy. I twist around, looking squarely at Asher, who still stands in the middle of the dancing crowd. “Go away!”

  Turning my back to him, I continue dancing as I see Elliott pull Victoria away from the dance floor as he yells, “I got this one.”

  “What the—” My feet leave the floor as I’m hoisted over Asher’s shoulder, my hands gripping the T-shirt covering his back.

  Thrashing, I slap at the solid muscles of his back. “Put me down.”

  He doesn’t even flinch as he takes two steps at a time, heading upstairs as every single pair of eyes watch us go. I squirm, almost certain that my ass is hanging out of my already short dress.

  He walks down a long hallway, stopping abruptly as his hand reaches up, gripping my ass before moving to my hips as he plops me on the ground.

  “What is wrong with you?” I shove against his chest, but of course he doesn’t budge.

  “You.” His deadpan expression remains, fueling my rage.

  “You couldn’t just let me have some fun. Be happy for once.”

  “Having a guy grope your ass, that’s what you think is fun?”

  He’s pulling so it’s my turn to push. Cocking my head to the side with a satisfied expression, I continue on. “That’s right. And his hands felt much better than yours.”

  Fury flashes across his face. “Tread lightly, Weakling.”

  He can call me weak all he wants; he’s not going to break me.

  “I’m sure Connor is still downstairs, but I’ll keep that in mind.” Stepping to the right to get around him, he counters, blocking my path.

  Asher lifts his hands, brushing his fingertips up my thigh, sliding his hand over my bare ass, squeezing hard as he pulls me against him. “Lie all you want, little Weakling. I know it’s my touch that you crave.” His finger slips under the thin strap of my thong between the cheeks of my ass, moving along the path of string before abruptly removing his hand.

  Squeezing my thighs together, it’s a vain attempt to calm the sensation his hand evoked. The anticipation he knowingly created, just to show me he knows I’m lying, proved his point. I don’t want anyone else’s hands on me.

  “Now be a good little girl and go home.”

  “I will,” I step back from him, knowing I’m past the point of return but I’m all in, “as soon as I let Connor fuck me in your bed.”

  His hand swiftly reaches forward, gripping the back of my neck to pull my mouth to his, angrily kissing me as his other hand grips my thigh, hoisting me up. I hook my legs around his waist as he walks down the hall, his mouth on mine.

  Stopping in front of a door, he throws it open, stepping inside before kicking it shut with his foot.

  Unwrapping my legs from his waist, he drops me on the bed. Lifting my dress over my head, he discards it as I cling to his shoulders, bringing him with me as I lay back. Gripping the hem of his shirt, I tug it over his head, tossing it to the floor as he settles on the bed, hovering over me.

  Curling his finger in the waistband of my thong, he yanks it down before tossing it to the floor. His hand presses flat against my sex as I rock against it. “That little show cost you. You’re gonna come on my hand, in my bed, while I watch every second of my touch making you come undone.”

  He plunges two fingers inside me, pumping as his thumb rubs my clit.

  My head falls back, his hand is merciless, pulling out my orgasm in seconds. He watches me, a satisfied grin on his face as his fingers slip out of me.

  I’m catching my breath as he unbuttons his jeans, kicking them off. A sense of excitement fills me when he flips me over, my fingers digging into the soft sheets as his hand grips my hip, before he moves my legs together, positioning his legs on the outside of mine as his chest presses into my back.

  Trailing his tongue up my neck, he encloses me beneath him, teasing my entrance with his hard cock as his teeth lightly nip at my ear. “I’m gonna fuck you until you hate me.”

  Lifting my backside, I press into him. “I already hate you.”

  A hard thrust presses me firmly into his mattress, his scent surrounds me as he embeds himself deeper.

  “Your wet pussy says otherwise,” he says with another hard thrust.

  “Shut up,” I say as he pulls nearly out before slamming inside me, a lustful moan escaping my lips.

  His teeth graze my shoulder as he nips at my skin, his fingers intertwined, gripping my hair as my head rolls back, meeting his lips. “I hate that fucking sound.” His mouth covers mine, swallowing the moan as he moves inside me. “I hear it in my sleep.”

  He’s made a mistake, he’s just showed me a weakness without realizing what it’s going to cost him—a loss for this round while I take every pleasure he’s willing to give me. “You’ve invaded my dreams, making me wake up moaning.”

  A low growl leaves his lips as they hungrily trail along my neck while he drives into me.

  “I was so wet and horny I couldn’t go back to sleep,” I say, pushing back to meet his thrust as I purposely release another moan, relishing in the feeling of him coming undone. “So, I slid my fingers inside my pussy and took care of myself.”

  “And what were you thinking about while you were fingering your pussy?”

  “You,” I say truthfully. “I imagined it was you. Your fingers inside me. Your mouth on me. Your tongue licking me.”

  His hand grips my throat, pulling me to him. “Tell me. Did you come all over your hand for me?”

  “Yes,” I say, enjoying how the power of my words heighten his physical pleasure as he hangs on every detail. “I moaned your name when it happened.”

  “You’re about to moan it again when you come on my dick.”

  “Not if you don’t shut up.” I squeeze my walls, tightening around his cock as I feel him tense. His fingers grasp tighter around my throat before releasing, sliding under me to squeeze my chest before gripping each of my shoulders, fingers digging into my skin as he repeatedly pounds into me.

  “I need you to hate me.”

  I want to tell him I hate him. I should say the words again, but he’s consuming every ounce of me as he takes control back. Stripping me of words, he pulls another orgasm from me. Waves of immense pleasure flow through me as he continues pumping, and with a hard thrust, releases inside me.

  Slowly he pulls out, falling on his side as his fingers slide into my hair. I think he’s going to say something, but he leans forward, kissing me. This kiss is different. It’s patient. Slow. It has a purpose, making me feel something other than lust. That’s when I know things are shifting again between us.

  46

  It’s raining when I wake, still surrounded by his scent. A flood of memories from the night before makes me smile as his heavy arm rests across my stomach. Reaching up, I trail my finger along his jaw. A relaxed expression covers his face, it’s the first time I’m seeing him with his guard down, he looks at peace. I snuggle further into his embrace, tucking my head to his chest as his arm tightens around me. His hand lightly caresses my nude back as I take a deep breath in, sighing in contentment.

  It’s not long before a knock sounds on the door. I tense up, pulling the covers up to shield myself as he lazily groans.

  “Asher,” I whisper-yell, trying to wake hi
m up as the knocking continues. “Someone is at the door.”

  He curses, throwing the sheets off before sliding out of the bed and pulling on a pair of boxer briefs.

  “What?” he says opening the door, speaking to someone who looks like they’re wearing a housekeeping uniform before closing the door again. His hand rubs up the rippled muscles of his stomach as I clench the sheet to my chest, desiring building as he grins.

  Tossing the sheets back, he exposes my naked body, gazing at me while pulling me to the edge of the bed. “Breakfast in the shower, then breakfast downstairs.”

  “You’re vulgar.” I blush, thinking of everything we’d done in the shower last night before we fell asleep.

  His finger moves up my inner thigh before easily slipping between my folds as a seductive grin crosses his face. “Feels like you enjoy it.”

  I curse him as he chuckles, dragging me off the bed. As we hurry to the bathroom, I hope for a repeat of last night.

  We head downstairs after showering to find Victoria sitting at the kitchen table with her head resting in her hands.

  “I’m never drinking again.”

  Elliott walks into the kitchen, yelling a chipper, “Good morning!” as Victoria lifts her head, covering her ears, and shushes him.

  Pointing between Asher and I, Elliott gives a thumbs up, and says loudly, “Glad you two worked out your frustrations.”

  “You weren’t in the guest room.” Asher watches as Elliott sits at the table. “I thought you went home.”

  “Nah … I crashed upstairs after I whooped Wade’s ass a few times at bowling.” Elliott makes a motion like he is rolling a bowling ball before loudly cheering for himself. “Strike!”

  Victoria drops her head back on the table with a thud as she mumbles, “Kill me now.”

  I get the feeling there’s a different reason Elliott wasn’t in the guest room, but I am staying far away from that subject.