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

by Belladona Cunning

  “I’m going home,” I inform him, wondering why he wants to know so terribly. “I can’t be here right now.”

  His eyes harden, then shift to the surrounding guys. “You fellows need to get back to class. If Savoy is going home, then she will go home by herself. She does not need an escort.”

  “Just who the fuck do you think you are?” Quinn fumes out, taking a threatening step toward him.

  Coach Rice stands just a tad bit taller, filling out his school provided sports polo shirt and khakis to perfection. If he wasn’t such an ass, then maybe I’d find him attractive. He’s not much older than we are, around mid-twenties, and already there’s a dusting of gray mingling through the sandy blond hair near his temples.

  “I am her Coach, and if you guys don’t want to get in trouble with yours, then I suggest you get back to class.”

  “You can take your thoughts and shove them right up your hairy ass, motherfucker!” Ellis thunders, and I see the veins in his neck protruding with fury.

  “You all come with me.” Coach Rice’s tone brogues no arguments.

  He turns around without addressing us, making his way down the hallway toward the office. His steps are pure determination, yet he looks as if tension radiates from every pore on his body. Why is he being so weird? He never cares who any of the other girls on the team hang out with, but he’s had a problem with these guys all year.

  First, it was before our try-outs. He stopped Callum in the hallway and they got into an argument. Well, Coach did, Callum just stood there and took it.

  Confusion plays tricks on me as we silently follow. All the guys have anger wafting off them in waves. It’s stifling; nearly strangling me with the weight of it resting on my shoulders. We all stop as one group when he pulls open the door for us to enter. We file in one at a time, then Coach Rice barks at the secretary, asking if Mitchell is in.

  “Yes, he is. One moment.” She jumps up from her seat and races toward his office. What little Coach Rice doesn’t know is, I fucked Mr. T about a year and a half ago, so all his actions will be for nothing. Mr. T will be on my side, no matter what.

  Trust me, it wasn’t one of my finer moments, but it made it possible for him to look the other way when I do things at school. You know, tit for tat and all that.

  I smirk, knowing what’s about to happen. Coach catches the look on my face, his reddening even more.

  “Wipe that smirk off your face, Savoy, or you’ll be running laps later.” No, I won’t be. Softball may be my way to college and a distraction I love doing, but it’s not my life. I refuse to be treated like this by someone who’s not even a faculty member. He’s nothing; a piece of shit asshole that thinks he has more sway than he does.

  “You’re about to be in for a rude awakening,” I whisper, which causes the guys to put two-and-two together. When they do, I see matching grins slide across their features.

  That’s one reason I like them. And I do—dammit, I do, even though I shouldn’t. They don’t care about what happened in my past. The only thing they care about now, is what happens in the present. Their way of thinking mirrors mine.

  “So, what do we have here?” My smirk turns into a full, wide-set grin.

  “Hey, Mr. T!” I chirp loudly.

  “Hey, Jess, how are you doing?” It doesn’t go unnoticed by Coach Rice that the principal of Silver Creek calls me by my first name. In fact, he looks downright murderous when he pieces it all together. He may not know the extent of my happenings regarding Mr. T, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Not with all the talk that’s been spread at Silver Creek.

  I purse my lips, tilting my head back and forth in contemplation. “I could be better.”

  He takes a moment, glancing around the room. His gaze snags on Coach Rice, the guys, then eyes the color of warm caramel come to rest back on mine. Mr. T shifts, putting one hand in his suit pockets.

  “May I ask what’s going on here?”

  Ellis goes to step forward, but a hand connecting with his stomach stops him. Glancing over my shoulder, I warn him with my eyes to back the fuck down. Amazingly, he does, nodding. I know out in the hallway, Ellis was the one about to bust some knuckles with Coach, but in here it’s all me.

  “You sure can, Mitchell!” I grin, then turn my attention toward Coach Rice and his livid face. “The guys were taking me home because some kids thought it would be a good idea to mass text the whole school a rather horrid picture of me. Coach here, stopped us. Well, I think you can put together what was said by the look on his face.”

  Every so often, I peer at Mr. T, seeing him nodding his head. He seems to follow along quite well, but the moment I get to Coach stopping us, his face darkens imperceptibly. If it had been someone else and not me, it would have been unnoticeable. But I see and hear everything when it pertains to me.

  “Is that right?”

  I nod. With a quick jerk of his head, he purses his lips in contemplation, then bounces onto the balls of his feet once before landing back on his heels.

  “Boys, Coach here giving you a hard time?”

  They all nod in agreement. I think they all know if they speak at this point in time, it wouldn’t help the situation. I thank them for that, because Mr. T can be kind of intense when it comes to something of this nature. An adult—that shouldn’t be around—forcing minors to do their bidding. I know, the irony, right? Mr. T and I got together quite a few times, but our situation is different. I knew what I was doing. I agreed. I didn’t have some false promises to rely on from his mouthwatering lips.

  We were both frank with each other and made it strictly about sex. So, there was no taking advantage of, unless you count how many orgasms he gave me while I was on his desk. Then, if so—yes, he took advantage of me, but it felt really, really good.

  You see, he has a son, and while we were having one of our “meetings,” I guess you could call it, he told me about what happened. How he ended up in Silver Creek to begin with. His son had sort of the same thing happen to him that I did. Only, when I say “sort of” I mean he wasn’t raped at all, but he was in a relationship with an adult. A much older adult female that should not have been interested in someone his age.

  Mr. T was the first person I ever thought about telling when it came to that night at Callum’s. I never did, but I was close. There’s just something about him that screams easy-going, down-to-earth.

  “Mr. T,” coach says, stepping up to him. “They were about to leave school property without properly signing out. No parent was here to escort them home; no guardian of any kind for that matter.”

  “And you took it upon yourself to insert yourself into the situation?” Mr. T asks, casting a disapproving frown at him.

  He nods. “It was only right. Savoy does not need to be with these troublemakers. If she needs to go home, then her mother can come and sign her out. It’s school policy.”

  “A policy which has no regard to you, Mr. Rice. You are not a faculty member at this institution, but a mere softball coach. You have the authority to discipline Jessalyn in matters of acting out during practice or games. But what you do not have the permission to do is accost my students in my hallway, demanding they remain on campus. That is my job. So, unless you want to lose your position as head coach, I suggest you get out of my sight and off school grounds until it is time for practice to begin. Are we clear?”

  Coach Rice practically vibrates with ire, his face turning an unhealthy shade of purple. His hands fist at his sides and removes his attention from Mr. T to peer over at all five of us. If Coach Rice wasn’t such an asshole, he’d actually be a pretty cool person. In fact, he was until I tried out for the team sophomore year. I can barely remember it, but I know at one point he used to smile, even thought it was closed-lipped. He used to laugh and celebrate with us when we won a game. Now, though, he’s turned into the unhappiest person I’ve ever seen.

  Yes, he helped Alessandra one day at practice, but that’s the most he’s done for any of us.
He usually stands to the side, yelling until that pesky vein in the middle of his forehead seems like it will pop right through his skin.

  He no longer smiles. He walks around practice like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, much like I used to when I was harboring all that hate inside me. What could have happened to him?

  As far as I know, Coach Rice has no kids, no wife, and no family to speak of. He’s alone, much like Mr. T is since his son just graduated last year and went off to college. So, unless that’s starting to get to him, I don’t know the reason he’s acting this way.

  Unless … Alessandra. I bet you this has to have something to do with her. Everything evil that happens in this school always falls back on that bitch. Especially after today, I won’t let my guard down around her or any of the queen bees.

  “Crystal.”

  Coach turns to head out of the office, his eyes lighting with fire on all five of us. I can’t help the feeling that softball just went up in flames for me, because there is no way he will let me play, let alone stay on the team after this. Mr. T made him out to be a fool, and if I know Coach like I think I do, that’s the worst thing you can do to someone like him. He hates his pride being wounded.

  “Oh, and one more thing …” Mr. T stops Coach Rice with a hand on his elbow, his eyes beaming into his with barely restrained anger, then he whispers so low I can barely hear him, so low I know the guys can’t hear because they’re too far away. “Leave Jessalyn alone, Mr. Rice. I have already talked to her father. She is allowed to leave the school grounds with these four boys, and it is none of your business what they do.”

  What?

  CHAPTER 27

  I was right in thinking Coach Rice would take his frustrations out on me. For the rest of the week, and leading into this one, I was running suicides until I felt like throwing up. All the while, the rest of the team were learning the fundamentals of their positions.

  I was no longer the starting hind catcher, not even the junior varsity hind catcher, since the girl below me took my position and the other took hers. It’s not fair, but it’s life. Every action has a consequence, and my consequence is running while the whole team stares, snickering behind their hands. Well, fuck them. Karma always has a way of coming back to bite people in the ass, and I hope it comes back and attacks all of them, including Coach Rice and his pestering ass.

  But tonight, I’m putting all of that behind me. Tonight, is the night I’ve been waiting for since the phone call with my father. I’m excited, yet nervous at the same time.

  The best part? We’ve actually been staying in touch a lot more, texting throughout the day and ending the night with a phone call. I’m still not too settled with him yet, knowing he had this whole other life I didn’t know about, but I’m not about to let that stop me from having a good time tonight. I have this beautiful dress, and for the first time ever, I’m not going to go to a dinner party with bruises covering half my body.

  The guys are supposed to be here any minute, and my stomach is a mass of knots and tangles as I look at myself in the mirror. The dress my father sent fits to perfection, hugging all my curves as if it’s a second skin. It’s a strapless piece, encrusted with Rhinestones around the bodice, amplifying the aquamarine shade that brings out the color of my eyes.

  The dress is a party dress of sorts, ending just above the knee. It’s fun, flirty, and easy to maneuver in. The bottom of the hem hangs in rivulets of tulle, fanning out around me in a darker shade than the top. It’s eccentric, just like me, which means it’s perfect.

  I truss my hair up in soft waves, pinning most of it away from my face with bobby pins, opening up my face to make me seem more approachable. A simple diamond solitaire hangs around my throat on a sterling silver chain, burning the skin of my chest as it rests there. It’s so expensive. With each twist and turn of my body, light shimmers off the many facets, shooting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the wall in front of me. It’s beautiful, yes. So are the matching earrings. But it’s not me. None of this is. I’m a jeans and tank kind of girl. I’m not into fancy dresses, parties, and heels that make my feet hurt just looking at them.

  However, tonight, I will rock this. I’m going to show those guys everything I have to offer, hoping they like what they see. And later, hoping they like what they spy underneath.

  “What am I getting myself into?” I whisper, exhaling.

  A soft knock on the door catches my attention. I turn my head toward my bedroom door, a small smile branching out across my face when I see Callum standing there. They weren’t supposed to be here until six-thirty, but it’s a welcome surprise.

  Then, I get a good look at him, and my mind turns to mush. It makes it hard to swallow as my eyes trail over every inch of his suit clad body. Callum fills out a suit very well. His well-defined muscles bulge against the material, stretching it in just the right places. His broad shoulders look even more pronounced, and that tux looks like it was personally tailored to fit him.

  “You have a bit of drool just there,” he says, tapping a finger against his chin, smirking.

  “Oh, shut up.” I roll my eyes, but still the smile still hasn’t fallen from my face.

  I grab my clutch and shawl from the foot of the bed, then step into my three-inch, gem coated, open toe heels. I check myself in the mirror one more time before making my way toward Callum. When I get to the doorway, preparing to walk through, I find he doesn’t budge an inch. Not even enough to squeeze past if I wanted to. My cheeks heat along with my body.

  Tilting my head up, I gaze at him questioningly. But then, he gives me that smile of his, the one that makes me shiver in my thong, before he takes my chin between his pointer finger and thumb. The depth of his stare seems bottomless, entrancing. I could get lost in his emerald gaze, seeing the way the light shimmers off the surface of his irises.

  “You look beautiful, little mouse,” he whispers, then presses his lips against mine.

  Of their own accord, my hands rise to his shoulders, then slowly trail down his chest as he deepens our connection. Every time I kiss one of them, any of them, it feels like the first time. It’s crazy, the amount of pull we all have toward each other.

  When he breaks the kiss, I feel myself sway in my shoes, drunk off the high they give me. Clearing my throat, I reply, “You look handsome yourself, stud.”

  His lips tilt up into a pleased smile, showcasing his straight, pearly white teeth. Callum is a sight to behold, standing here like he’s about to stride into a boardroom and order people to do his bidding. There’s power in his presence; a heady feeling of entitlement that can only originate from years and years of grooming.

  He’s breathtaking.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asks.

  Biting my lower lip, I nod. My skin tingles under my clothes when he places his hand against my lower back. I try to hide my reaction toward him, but it’s no use, he sees it. By the larger-than-life smile on his face, and the easy set of his shoulders, he probably feels like he’s on top of the world. You know what? He should. Because it’s not every day Jessalyn Savoy forgives, then drowns in a bed of her own making.

  As we make our way down the steps, I damn near trip over my feet when three other delicious bodies come into view. My eyes round, mouth almost falling open in equal parts surprise and immediate need. I practically quiver in my heels, my body flooding with heat.

  Ellis, Quinn, and Asher are all standing just inside the living room with three roses in their hands. Ellis has a red one. Asher’s is white. And Quinn’s—his is black. My smile easily spreads across my face upon seeing it, a tiny snort of a laugh falling past my lips. Quinn, although silent, knows me almost as good as I know myself.

  “Black?” I ask, quirking a brow.

  He shrugs, a small, shy smile overtaking his face. “Seemed fitting.”

  He’d be right. Black is the color of my soul, and no, I’m not being dramatic. It just feels like the color I’m more drawn to. What signifies my life. Black, w
hile being a desolate color, can mean many things. It can mean the end of something that’s better left forgotten. It can signify the beginning, before the sun rises in the Eastern sky and it still paints the world in inky darkness. You know a new dawn is coming, but in order for you to see it, you must first face the night.

  “Thank you.”

  It’s then I noticed each of them has a rose to offer, except one. I turn my gaze to Callum, seeing a blank look on his face as he stares at the three of them. When he notices me peering up at him, he turns his attention toward me, forcing a smile.

  “I didn’t bring you a rose, little mouse.” Why do I feel disappointed by that? “Why would I waste my time bringing a flower when my date is already prettier than anything imaginable? It would be an injustice to you.”

  I blush, glancing down toward the floor. The other three guys standing just in front of me all mumble cuss words under their breath. But instead of making them feel like Callum showed them up—which he did, but don’t tell them that—I take the roses from their proffered hands and rise up on my toes, giving each a kiss on their cheek.

  “I’ll just go put these in some water, okay?”

  When they all nod their heads, I hurry into the kitchen. I find a vase, fill it with water, and place the delicate flowers down inside it. I’ll have time later to properly trim them and add Sprite to the water to give them a boost in freshness, so they last longer without wilting.

  My heels click against the hardwood as I come back, and I wrap my shawl around my shoulders. They each give me a grin before turning around and heading back outside. My heart flutters inside my chest at seeing all of them heading out my door, their suits all fitting to perfection. Their hair perfectly coifed and styled with what I can imagine is expensive products.

  Callum waits for me by the door. I hurry toward him and gather my keys from the table next to the door. Only, when I get within his proximity, I don’t walk out like the others. Instead, I turn toward him, my eyes rising to search his. If I allow myself, I could get lost in the warmth of his gaze.