Tease Me, Baby: A Reverse Harem High School Bully Romance (Silver Creek High Book 2)

by Belladona Cunning

  Ellis would puff up his chest with male pride and do everything under the sun, even strut in front of his friends like he’s the big dog on campus. I’m not for sure, but just by our interactions over the past few months, leads me to believe he would do something like that and take great enjoyment out of it.

  As we step onto the porch, with its rustic decorations and primitive signs, it reminds me of a house you’d find in Kentucky. With its little lighthouses, rocking chairs, a cedar swing subtly swaying back and forth at the other end of the porch. Pillows, on top of pillows, rest along the seat of the swing, with sunflowers, biblical sayings—it gives the house a really nice, homey feel.

  “It’s so cute,” I say without thinking. Ellis’ grip on me tightens, then softens immediately afterward.

  “That’s my mom. She loves that kind of stuff.”

  “Your dad doesn’t?” I ask, glancing up at him. Something passes over his eyes, a darkness I can’t explain, whenever I mention his father. Instead of voicing what’s making him feel this way, though, he shakes his head. His dismissal of my question brings the end of our conversation altogether.

  I know it’s not my place, but I have a feeling I should at least ask him about his father. There’s just something there—something he’s hiding—that worries me. When I mentioned his mother, his face glowed like the mid-summer sun. But quickly, following, it settled into a somber expression when I asked something about his father. That’s not a normal reaction, and I know it’s none of my business, but if these assholes want me to give them a chance, then I need to know everything.

  Not the personal stuff, if you know what I mean. But everything that matters.

  It also means I’ll need to do the same. Now that conversation, if I ever decide to, will suck. Not because I’m a necessarily private person, in general, but because no person wants to hear about the woes of the Savoy’s. Maybe the queen bees, so they can hold it over my head, but no one that has a life. And … I’m not too sure how I feel about that.

  With me tucked under his arm, Ellis unlocks the door with his thumb, which I find oddly fascinating, albeit a little useless here in Georgia. Pushing open the door, he guides me into the house. The lights automatically come on, and I’m left even more breathless than I was outside. While the outside looks like a hunter’s cabin, the inside looks like a sky-rise. It’s the perfect mesh of modern and rustic.

  It’s all sharp lines and jagged edges, and there is an open floor concept I actually fawn over. The only thing that separates the living room from the other parts of the house are two steps you need to go down. There’s a black leather couch that looks big enough to seat ten, placed right in front of the fireplace. A large flat screen television hangs just above the mantle, looking as if it’s built into the wall, no cords hanging down whatsoever.

  After allowing my eyes to trail over every available surface I can see, I step away from Ellis. I turn in a full circle, still taking everything in, I keep finding little things that entrance me. It’s homey, yet it still has that hotel feel to it, like no one really lives here.

  The next thing I notice is lack of pictures. Framed artwork dons the walls, and sculptures sit on their perfect, little bases placed sporadically throughout the giant room. But there are no pictures of the Malone’s. Nothing that screams a family lives here.

  “Where are—”

  “Dad likes to keep things low-key,” Ellis says, interrupting me as he steps in and shrugs his jacket off.

  “Low-key, like, not having any family pictures, low-key?”

  “You’d be correct.”

  Before I can ask about that whole mess of ugliness, Ellis takes off toward a bar on the other end of the room. I know what that is, my father having plenty of bottles inside his study when he was still living at home. He’d drink a scotch a night, claiming it helped him sleep. But really, now that I know what Hell his relationship with Debra was, it was probably to knock him out, so he wouldn’t have to listen to her mouth.

  You know what? I don’t blame him. I wish I would have thought of it sooner. Maybe then I wouldn’t have had to put up with half her shit, I could have drank it all away.

  Quinn presses up close to me, having divested himself of his jacket. He pretends to play with my hair, but he lowers his lips to my ear, whispering, “Ellis doesn’t like to talk about his family. Loves his mom; hates his dad. Just like all of us. Except for Callum. Callum hates his mom.”

  “What?” I ask, whispering.

  “Just stay away from family questions, baby. You have your limits, and we have ours.”

  I mutely nod. I get it, I really do. That’s just like them asking me about my folks, then expecting an answer I don’t really want—or am ready—to give. So, if anyone knows about family assholes, it’s me. I’m not going to push where I know they don’t want me to venture to. But eventually, we will have to have this conversation. I hope they realize that.

  “Do you want to watch a movie?” Asher asks from behind me.

  He walks around me, then down the two steps that lead into the living room. I hadn’t really expected a movie, honestly. But I’m not going to turn it down. My eyes shift over to Ellis, watching him gulp back a tumbler half full of brown liquid as if it’s water. My cold heart goes out to him, knowing he’s in some type of pain and that is the only way he’s found to deal with it all. Him and I are more alike than we originally thought.

  “Sure. A movie sounds great.” I push questions for Ellis out of my head and follow Callum and Quinn down into the living room. Asher is quiet, reserved as he scans the list of movies on the Malone’s television. He props his feet up on the coffee table, relaxing back into the plush sofa.

  “Hope you like horror, baby, because that’s what we’re watching.” I do, even though it scares the shit out of me. Usually I have to cover my eyes through the entire movie, but it doesn’t stop me from watching them.

  My eyes scan for a place to sit, but there’s literally nowhere that’s not right next to one of the guys. Ellis claims his seat a moment later, and I’m left, peering down at them. I know they planned this somehow, but I can’t prove it.

  I spot an ottoman next to the couch down from Ellis. It looks comforting, inviting. Maybe not as much as the couch, but pretty damn close. Just as the opening credits filter through the surround sound speakers, I tiptoe my way over to it. I’m just about to sit down when that weird ass music plays. Even though the movie hasn’t started yet, I already know what we’re watching. Those bastard chose this movie on purpose. There’s no way I’ll be able to keep up appearances when it is in full force.

  Inwardly groaning, I shuck my boots off and grab the blanket lying casually over the edge of the ottoman. I will wrap myself up like a burrito and make sure not a single piece of my body or this blanket will touch the floor.

  But then, Karma—the cosmic bitch, not my friend—has other ideas. Right as I pick up the blanket, every single light goes off in the house in rapid succession. My heart jumps up to my throat as a scream pierces through the darkness. My scream.

  Without caring what I’m jumping on, who I’m hopping on, where my feet are landing when I do—I make a break for the couch and catapult myself onto it.

  Well, I try. Only, I don’t get that far. Instead, I end up in someone’s lap, a grunt of pain echoing through my ear as rough, harsh bursts of warm air wisp across the side of my face.

  “You damn near broke him, sweetheart,” Ellis grits out, his voice a mask of pain.

  “Oh, my God, I’m sorry!” I whisper-yell. I hear three sets of snickers in the darkness before the credits click over into the introduction of the movie. Then, I see all three of them—Callum, Asher, and Quinn—looking at me as if I’m the most hilarious thing they’ve seen in forever.

  So, I do the first thing that comes to me. I stick my tongue out at them, flipping them off. That makes them chuckle even louder.

  “Not a problem.” Ellis grunts, then shifts my weight on his lap to where he’s cradli
ng me like a child. When I try to get off him, a hand on my waist stops me. Inwardly, I know this can’t be good, but on the outside, I’m such a scared little bitch liable to allow anything at this point.

  Asher, the dick, said we were going to watch a scary movie. He said nothing about it being in the dark.

  “I may have forgotten to tell you there is a setting that turns the lights off when a movie’s playing on screen.”

  “You’re such an asshole, Asher.”

  He chuckles, making my eyes narrow on him. “Oh, I know, but you love it.”

  And that’s the whole problem, isn’t it? I’m starting to like it a little too much.

  CHAPTER 16

  I wake up to someone kissing the side of my neck. Soft, languid, open-mouth kisses on the sensitive skin just below my ear. Elli’s mouth. Ellis’ kisses. His arms tighten around me—hands searching, feeling, touching. It feels so fucking good.

  Moaning, I blink the sleep away from my eyes. Slowly, everything comes into focus. I notice the lights are all still out, but now the television is off, too. It’s eerily silent, except for the soft snoring from my right. Besides the little slivers of moonlight dancing through the windows, I can’t see anything. If I could, I’d bet anything I would see the other three guys passed out on the couch in various states of disarray.

  “Ellis?” I whisper in a sleepy voice.

  I shiver when his warm kisses rise to my ear, and he takes the lobe between his lips, nibbling. “Be quiet, baby, or they’ll hear you.”

  His voice is low, gravelly with sleep, and it stirs something low in my stomach. When I mutely nod, I feel his grin against my ear, which brings about one of my own. Then his lips are back on my neck, tasting and teasing. I choke out a gasp when his hand moves lower. My breath stills in my lungs when strong, nimble fingers undo the button on my jeans. I crane my neck to the side so he can get better access to my neck, whimpering and moaning in soft, hushed tones.

  Slipping his hand into my panties, I jolt backward against the couch with my ass barely staying on his lap. His touch feels like a hot branding iron skating along my flesh. Feels like all the blood in my body is rushing south, following his touch as it glides toward my clit. The moment he makes purchase, slipping between my silken folds, I can’t stop my hands from slapping out against the couch and his chest, my fingers digging into the creamy, soft leather and his starched polo.

  “Ah,” I whisper-hiss, not being able to stop myself from grinding into his hand.

  His kisses turn into nibbles, then before long, love bites. “So wet and hot. Hmm, I bet you taste even better than you feel, gorgeous.”

  I’m shaking by the time he shifts me off his lap, laying me on the cushion right beside him. Stretching out, his body rises over mine. I squint to make out his features in the darkness, but to no avail, it’s still a mystery. All I can do is just imagine the look of hunger I’d see if I could.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  The front of his body presses down onto mine, his lips dancing along the surface of my lips. “Anything I want, baby, and you’re going to let me.”

  Any other time, I’d have something to say about that. But right now, all I can muster is a little squeak of approval. I really want this. His mouth on my body, bringing me a pleasure I haven’t felt in what feels like forever. His tongue swirling and licking me to completion. Just the thought of what his tongue will feel like has my body buzzing so hard I can barely keep still.

  He shifts onto his haunches, grabbing the waistband of my jeans and panties. I lift my hips up from the couch and wait silently as he pulls them off. I hear them thud onto the floor just as soon as my ass touches the cushion.

  He cups me between the thighs with one big hand, causing heat to pool there, fast. I’m squirming, fighting to keep in place, but his touch is too much. I’m barely keeping quiet as it is. If it gets more intense than this, I won’t be able to keep my promise for long.

  He strokes me, and at the same time, trails his tongue from my right knee to my hipbone. His teeth nip on the skin; my arms rise over my head to grab the back of the couch to help keep me in place. He kisses a light trail across my pubic bone to the other side, and his fingers continue to do their magic, forcing me to the point of unraveling.

  I feel his fingers at my entrance seconds before he fills me with two, and they curl upward in perfect synchronization, hitting that sensitive spot deep inside me. He massages, drawing out the pleasure. I’m shaking like a leaf by the time he shoulders my legs apart and settles between them. My heart pounds hurriedly in my chest, and my mouth is drier than the Sahara Desert.

  “P-Please,” I whisper, licking my lips. “Ellis.”

  He nuzzles my inner thigh, growling softly as he inhales my scent. “Goddamn, you smell like Honeysuckles.”

  He guides my thighs further apart, sliding his hand out of the way, and replaces it with one, slow lick from his tongue. Euphoria spears through me—sudden heat, the scratch of his five o’clock stubble—and his lips move over my pussy in a languid dance of erotic torment.

  When he takes my clit into his mouth, sucking lightly, I arch my back at the pleasure encompassing me. My rough, panting breaths leave me in hot huffs of air. God, it’s so hard to keep it in right now.

  “Fuck,” I whisper, then whimper as he flicks his tongue against the tip of my clit. “M-Maybe we should—Oh, god!” I can’t help but to cry out when his fingers slip into my entrance once more, sliding in and out and curling to hit that spot inside me.

  “I woke up with you on my lap and it felt perfect.” He leans forward, and I gasp as his tongue runs the length of my pussy in one, sure stroke and his fingers scissor inside me. “I’ve been dying to do this for a while, so I figured you wouldn’t mind if I stay down here for a while and kiss everything better.”

  His soulful words steal what little breath I have in my lungs. They make me greedy and achy, causing a coil of tightness to bloom between my thighs. I start to squirm, but his arms wrap around my thighs, keeping me anchored to him as he lowers his mouth on me again. This time, it’s longer, slower than before. Just enough to give me a taste, but enough to leave me wanting more.

  The creaking of leather greets my ears, but doesn’t quite register, until I feel heat slide up next to me. Warm fingers skate up my side, but instead of leaning away from the touch, I find myself greedy for more. I lean in, toward the wandering hands. Someone grabs my shirt at the hem, pulling it up and up, until it’s settled right above my breasts.

  At the same time, Ellis spreads me with his hands, exploring with his tongue and fingers, the guy at my head, pulls down the cup of my bra. Before I can mutter anything, warm, sensual heat blows across the top of my breast. My nipple hardens instantly, two twin peaks begging to be pleasured. When his hand grabs my breast, kneading it, I whimper and thrust my chest up for more.

  Rough stubble scratches along the side of my breast, a contrast to what I’m feeling between my thighs by Ellis’ miracle tongue. Ellis runs his tongue lower, tasting, sampling, before removing his fingers and pushing his tongue into my entrance. My hand seeks his head, weaving my fingers through the short strands on top. Tilting up my pelvis, I grind my pussy against his face. My eyes squeeze shut so tightly stars dance along the back of my eyelids. Ellis’ groan reverberates against my core, the pleasure almost as good as his ton—

  “Oh, fuck!” I cry out, no longer able to keep silence as wet, sensual heat encloses my left nipple.

  My other hand rises to the guy’s head licking and sucking on my nipple. His deep-gravelly groan causes a shudder to race through me.

  I’d know that groan anywhere. I’d know these soft tresses anywhere.

  The guy sucking on my breast like it’s the holy grail of tits, is Asher.

  A burst of light explodes behind my eyes. When my eyes snap open, I take into account three things quickly. One, I was right, Ellis and Asher are the two feasting on my body. The second thing is, the lights are now on—that m
ust have been the burst of light behind my eyelids I saw.

  And the third … we’re not the only three awake.

  My eyes peek past Asher’s head, and I nearly come when I spy Callum’s intense gaze locked on mine. He looks hungry, downright ravenous. My grip tightens in Ellis’ hair when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. My body squirms in their hold, and before I allow myself to fall into them, I cast my gaze toward Quinn.

  Disbelief threatens to tear me apart. Quinn, he’s … Holy fuck me. My mouth drops open in awe as I spy Quinn leisurely stroking himself in the far corner of the couch. He’s shirtless, with all those beautiful muscles on display, and his hand is tight around his thick member, going up and down, his eyes sweeping over the scene in front of him with ravenous hunger.

  Asher’s other hand pulls down the other cup of my bra, his big hand encasing it. His pointer and thumb tweak my nipple, rolling it between his two digits. He barely grazes my nipple with his teeth, then sooths away the sting with a swipe of his tongue. The pain, the pleasure—it has me teetering on the edge of climax.

  They seem to know just how to touch me—how to alternate hard and soft, where to suck and where to lick. It’s phenomenal, earth shattering. Hearing their groans and growls of pleasure. Hearing the slick-suctioning noise of Quinn pleasuring himself. And when I hear Callum join in, his deep timbered growl causes a tremble to buzz inside me, the feeling settling in the apex of my thighs.

  With my legs shaking on either side of his head, Ellis keeps working me over with his tongue in long leisurely strokes. My back arches from the couch, pushing my chest into Asher’s waiting mouth. I cry out—moaning and whimpering as they work me closer and closer to the edge. A slow burn starts in my gut, a familiar feeling I know all too well.

  Asher releases my breast with a pop, then weaves his fingers through my hair and slams his mouth down to mine. My tongue instantly seeks his out, searching, plundering. He groans into my waiting mouth, then starts grinding his hard cock against my side. It’s hard and large inside his pants, and I desperately want to feel his warm skin in the palm of my hand. Maneuvering myself, I slip my hand into the front of his pants, grabbing his dick in my hand.