Wicked Hearts - A Dark Stepbrother Bully Romance (Wicked Hearts At War Book 1)

by Mallory Fox

  I roll my eyes. “Okay, you win. What do you want to talk about?”

  “Us,” he says.

  “There is no us Davis, we had a summer fling.” A few kisses doesn’t make a couple.

  “So you’ve said. I wanted to make sure you know what you’re doing. Give you one last chance to change your mind.”

  I’m this close to getting up and walking away, following Flick through the crowd. I’ve no idea what makes me stay sitting, maybe the fact that I’m tired of dodging him and not really looking forward to walking next to the hot tubs again, that and out the corner of my eye Claudine looks to be seething.

  Davis, as bad a kisser as he is, is the least of my worries.

  I can handle him.

  “Oh, how sweet of you,” I say dryly. “But there’s nothing to change.”

  If Davis recognizes the sarcasm of my tone, he doesn’t react. “At least let me top up your glass while I’m here.”

  “I’m drinking gin.”

  He doesn’t listen, a trait I chose to ignore when I was flirting with him in Paris. He produces two champagne flutes. He fills one of the flutes and then hands it to me.

  “Just have one with me, for old times sake. It’s my birthday after all. See it as a birthday gift to me.”

  Shit, I forgot it was his birthday.

  I also forgot how much I hate having two drinks to hold so I down the champagne, placing the glass on table in front of us empty. The coldness and fizz of the liquid takes my breathe away. “There. Happy now?”

  “Atta girl.” Like I’m some kind of pet dog.

  Fuck it. I really want to punch him.

  That would make much a better birthday gift.

  Chapter 8

  Pearl

  I watch him pour me another, refilling the glass to the top, adding to his own glass before setting the bottle down on the table. “You really should down the gin first, not this. This is an expensive vintage. You would do best to savor it.”

  And you would do best to fuck right off, is what I want to say.

  When he offers me the second glass of bubbles, I decline to take it. “I told you. I’m drinking gin.”

  He shrugs and places it on the table next to the bottle. “Suit yourself. You’re hard work you know that?”

  My eyebrows shoot up. “Should I be easy then?”

  He smirks, stopping to stare at me “No… but you could at least hear me out.”

  I sigh. I guess I could. “Sure, have at it. Say what you want to say.” I wave my hand at him as I slowly sip my gin. “But just because I’m listening now does not mean I’m going to sleep with you later.”

  He cocks his head, eyes sliding over me like he would beg differ. “You didn’t say that in Paris.”

  “Paris was different. I was different.” And all he did was kiss me, badly.

  “Oh, how so?” He licks his lips and waits patiently, like he is actually interested. I don’t have the energy or the heart to explain that it was my last summer before taking over the company, a summer for letting loose one last time, and as much as I enjoyed teasing and flirting with him then, that was all it was. I was actually wasted most of the time because the French, if anything, like to party.

  I also did it for Gabby. Even if she never forgives me, I threw out the trash for her. Her fiancé wasn’t good enough and there was only one way to show her.

  Men like him think they own women.

  But I don’t say any of that. I soften my eyes and shake my head.

  “I just wanted some fun before the final year.”

  Telling him I did to break him and Gabby up would piss him off and I can’t afford for him to be mad at me. This year at La Roche with Seth is going to be hard enough to get through.

  He puts a hand on my leg making me tense where his hand rests. “That fun doesn’t need to end you know.”

  I shift in my seat, brushing him off. “Sorry, I should really find Flick.”

  I leave Davis looking confused that yet again I’ve rejected him and move into the kitchen, Flick is nowhere to be seen.

  Seth is there though, and not wearing his trademark black this time. Instead, he’s looking very yummy in a royal blue sweatshirt that sets off the color of his eyes. He’s so tall that he looks down at me as I have to look up, just I as approach him. The blonde, some first year I don’t know, hanging from around his neck, draping herself all over him, looks down at me too.

  What a bitch.

  “Scoot,” I say, shooing her away.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Scoot, I want to talk to my step-brother.”

  She shoots a look at Seth from her throne that is the kitchen counter top. “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”

  Seth gives me a once over and then steps back, moving away from her. “Give us a minute.”

  The blonde huffs and jumps down, hair flicking as she saunters back into the main room.

  I feel Seth’s eyes on me as I walk around to the other side of the bar to pour another gin and tonic with a slice of lime. When I finally turn back, drink in hand, he’s watching me curiously.

  “Pearl, what’s this about?”

  “I want to know how it feels to finally be a white sheep.”

  His brow wrinkles, in that adorable way I remember, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “White sheep?”

  I grin at him. “You know, no longer the black sheep. Although, I think you’re more a wolf than a sheep.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  My brows scrunch into a frown. “As if you care.”

  He looks at me funny and sighs. “I care Pearl. Even if you don’t.”

  I screw my eyes up at him, trying not to see two Seths. “What?”

  “You should go home,” he says, sighing again.

  “Er… that would be a no.”

  The expression on his face makes me giggle.

  Damn, I must have drunk more than I thought. I never giggle.

  He shakes his head. “Fuck Pearl, how much have you had?”

  I stroll over to where he is and place a finger on his chest. “Not enough. I can take whatever you want to throw at me.”

  “Pearl! There you are!” It’s Flick, singing in a singsong voice. She wraps her arms around me and I’m enveloped in the smell of her sweet perfume.

  “Come on, we’re playing drinking games… Oh, hi Seth.”

  “Where?” I slur.

  “Upstairs, come on.” She takes my hand and the last I see as I look over my shoulder is Seth, burning a hole into my back as he watches us go.

  I have to hand it to Davis, he takes the rejection in his stride, running his hand through his blonde hair as he carries on.

  We’re in the the bedroom, the place the drinking games are meant to be happening in. But so far it’s just me and Davis, Flick and Hugo, sitting around talking.

  Well, Davis is sitting next to me, talking at me, gesturing like a moron. Over his shoulder on the corner chair, Flick and Hugo are flirting like there’s no tomorrow. And from the looks of it, Flick is on Hugo’s lap.

  “We make a great team you and I. We’re both top in grades, our families are old money, even our names are synonymous with class. Think about it. Gladstone & Darlington. It has a powerful ring to it don’t you think?”

  “If you’re asking for a partnership…” My words come out more slurred than I intend, but Davis doesn’t seem to notice. Instead he edges closer, closing the gap between us. “Not a partnership. A union.”

  Ah, now it makes sense.

  Another dick, wanting a piece of my father’s company and me along with it. That’s all they want; my money, my power, and if that has to come with me as bonus, then why not. What they don’t realize is that I’m not some trophy to take home and brag about. I worked hard to get what I have, risked my family, lost everything. Lost so much.

  I’m not going to let some dick for brains swan in and take it from me under the pretense of thing called love. Davis doesn’t even know the mea
ning of the word.

  I can’t help but laugh when he covers my hand in his and looks into my eyes.

  As if I would marry him.

  “Sorry…” I mumble and shake my head. Not interested. I mean to say the full sentence but the second half of it doesn’t seem to want to vocalize. I do manage to drag my hand away though, very aware of how slow my body is to respond all of a sudden.

  In fact, everything feels difficult, muted, like I’m moving underwater.

  How drunk am I?

  I must be really drunk if I’m struggling to move or talk.

  Seth was right. Fuck, I hate it that he’s right.

  I’m also burning up. For some reason this bedroom has an open fire. It’s roaring right next to us so it isn’t helping. I’m feeling very light-headed and spaced out. I should get some air.

  “I need to go…”

  I try to stand and lean over and put my drink down at the same time, but somehow the table has moved so I stumble into Davis. Who in one smooth motion grabs my wrist, harder than he needs to, and pulls me back down next to him. The drink spills to the floor. He doesn’t pick it up and flat out ignores it.

  “Davis…”

  “You didn’t give me an answer.”

  Didn’t I? I thought I did.

  I shake my head.

  He rests his hand on my leg and this time I don’t tense even though the touch of him makes me want to throw up. I just sit there and stare at it numbly.

  “Pearl, I’m serious. Think about how good we’d be together.”

  With one hand still on my wrist, his other arm snakes around me and scoops me closer, so close I’m practically sitting on his lap.

  I close my eyes to stop the room from spinning while Davis nuzzles my neck.

  “Fuck, you smell so good Pearl. This is what you do to me.”

  He guides my palm to his crotch so I can feel just how turned on he is through his preppy trousers. “You’re lucky you’re not wearing skirt, because I’d fuck you right here if you were,” he whispers into my ear.

  “Davis, don’t be a dick.”

  While his other hand grabs my breast over my top and holds me tight against him, squeezing hard enough to make me yelp out loud, he grinds my hand against his pathetic erection.

  “See what you do to me?”

  “No, I don’t…” But the sound of my voice is lost in the volume of the music from the party downstairs, blasting out of every speaker in every room. If you can call it a party anymore. I don’t know how or when things escalated.

  “Just enjoy it, Pearl. You know you’ve been wanting this as much as I do.”

  “Fuck no…” Is all I manage before my eyelids get heavy again. I’m struggling not to pass out. He must have put something in my drink or…

  His breath is laced with alcohol as his lips graze my ear. “You know, you’re hot when you’re mad, Pearlie.”

  I open my eyes.

  “Don’t. Call. Me. Pearlie.” I breath out while the room rocks.

  He laughs, both hands now kneading my breasts through the material of my top as I sit on his lap. “Why not? Everyone else does.”

  No they don’t. Only two people in the world are allowed to call me Pearlie.

  You Davis are not one of them.

  I clench my fists. The floor is moving.

  No. I’m sitting on Davis who is moving.

  My stomach churns as he twists me around. Suddenly, I’m under him and he’s lying on top of me, squashing me with his body, undoing the buttons of his jeans. Everything is spinning and everything is moving. My insides clench and I have to tighten my jaw to keep from losing the contents of my stomach. Although that could be a saving grace.

  “Kiss me first,” I mumble as fumbles with my zipper.

  “What?”

  “Kiss me…”

  His face splits into a grin. “I knew you’d come round.” Such a dick.

  Bruising lips and sharp teeth. He kisses like a wounded shark. I reach out towards the table next to the sofa while his body, hard in all the wrong places, drills down onto mine. At least I’m fully clothed.

  Almost. My fingers touch the cool, curved surface but it’s too far. I turn my head, breaking whatever the hell that was, a kiss from a lawnmower, and stretch as far as I can.

  Adrenaline has kicked in, helping me move, helping me reach. My fingers close around the top of the champagne bottle and momentum propels it towards us.

  I planned to hit Davis over the head with it.

  But unlike with Seth, the bottle doesn’t make contact. My aim is off and it just hits him on the back and bounces off, emptying cold fizz everywhere.

  “What the hell Pearl,” he snarls. “I’m fucking soaking wet!”

  As Davis freaks out, shifting his weight, no longer trapping me, I move my hand between his legs. And do what I should have done the first time he touched me without permission.

  I grab his pathetic excuse for a cock and balls through his shorts and squeeze, hard, digging my nails in. “Get off me you sick fuck…”

  Or I’ll rip this little pecker right off throw it down the mountain.”

  It’s a shame I can’t quite speak right now or that would have been a great line.

  Fully alert, as wide awake as I’ll ever be again tonight, I pierce my nails in harder when he doesn’t budge.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  He nods, eyes watering, full of pain, while the sound he makes is pure heaven. I let him go as he slides off me, falling to the floor, bent over shielding his balls, most probably crying.

  I slither off the sofa from under him, crawling away until I can get to my feet.

  In my glazed vision, I stumble downstairs.

  All around students are hanging off each other, dancing or grinding against each other, sucking each other’s mouths or other body parts in various stages of undress.

  One girl I’m sure is being screwed in the corner by Fletcher. Another couple are bobbing up and down, well the girl is as she sits on the guy’s lap. Our eyes connect briefly. She’s wearing a French maid outfit to her waist, breasts exposed. His hands wrapped around them, holding them like handles.

  I’d forgotten how fast it could get, which is the reason I wanted to stay away. I’m all alone in a sea of people doing exactly what Davis was trying to do. Everyone is too wrapped up in their own pleasures.

  I’m on my own. Like always.

  Except for one person.

  Claudine.

  Watching me from across the room with a frown deepening on her face. I can’t help but flip her off with my middle finger as I flounder out into the hall.

  Not wanting to bring the mood down, I make my way outside and hurl over the side of the balcony rail, while snow flakes down around me.

  After emptying my guts, I wipe my mouth and look up, letting the cold eat through the haze of the drugs. The view from here is spectacular.

  I close my eyes and open them again, taking in a deep breath while shivering uncontrollably. My top, disgustingly wet from the champagne I spilt, hardly helping the situation.

  Still, the icy air seems to have helped me get a grip on the situation.

  Gladstone almost had me where he wanted.

  He still could.

  I turn my back to the view. From where I'm standing I’m able to see the inside of the chalet. Most of the students are inside, which suits me fine because right now I'd rather be alone. I can clearly see Flick in the kitchen, doing what seems to be jello shots off of body parts with a load of bare assed butlers. Wasn’t she with Hugo before? A smile crosses my face as I let out a giggle.

  Shit, I’m still fucked.

  I scan the windows, people watching as I go. Faces swarm into focus, some I recognize, others I don’t. Snow continues to whirl around me, landing on my hair and eyelashes, melting as it comes in contact with my skin.

  I’m chilled to the bone.

  I came outside to get away but this is probably the worst place to be right now. If
I pass out, I could very easily die of exposure.

  Henry. I need to call Henry.

  Digging my phone out, I walk to the far end of the terrace where there might be some signal. It’s darker here, being away from the lights of the chalets. It’s colder too. I should have grabbed my coat.

  I wrap my arms around me and bring up my call-list looking for Henry’s name.

  I’m so caught up in scrolling furiously that I don’t pay attention to the person standing right in front of me.

  “You really shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  I look up and to my left to see someone tall and broad shouldered. Someone with dark hair and deep, blue eyes that see right into my soul.

  “What the fuck Seth, are you trying to scare the shit out of me.”

  In the dimness of the light, It’s hard to tell, I swear he is laughing. Strangely, I don’t feel afraid. Not of Seth. That might the drugs though.

  The wind chooses at that moment to blow a gale right through me, making me shiver. So I do what any sensible drunk girl without a coat would do, I step away from the person who has one.

  Seth frowns. “Aren’t you cold? Where’s your coat?”

  I grit my teeth and glance at the chalet entrance several feet away. “It’s inside.” I must have walked quite far when I was trying to call Henry. “Why are you out here? Are you following me?”

  He follows me now as I stagger back towards the chalet, back to where the light is.

  I’m not fast enough for him though and he reaches out and pulls me into his arms, so close I’m momentarily overwhelmed by the scent of him all around.

  “Christ, you’re frozen right through,” he says, rubbing my bare skin with his rough hands to warm me up. It works wonders and feels amazing, and it doesn’t take long for his warmth to spread to me too. It doesn’t stop me from trying to pull back.

  My body says yes, but my mind… my mind is freaking the hell out.

  Escaped one dick only to walk into another one.