“Alec! Alec! Alec!”
They chant it and slap him on the back.
It looks like my brother is already well known. He celebrates, wrapping his arms around the girl beside him and fist bumping a tall boy in a dark green soccer captain’s zip up jacket.
“I thought they had us for sure,” the soccer captain says, waggling his brows.
“Nah, man, not when I’m around.”
A laugh rolls out of Alec again when someone announces another match.
“Bishop! Get over here!”
The shout came from across the room and it draws the soccer captain’s attention. He disappears into the party.
I tug on the back of Alec’s shirt. When he turns to me, I raise my eyebrows.
“Ready?”
His expression closes off. “For another game, you mean?”
“No,” I say slowly, trying to keep a lid on my annoyance. “To leave. You heard me earlier.”
Alec bumps my shoulder as he brushes past me. I hold back a grunt of frustration.
He’s been tetchy with me since we moved. Alec was pissed when Dad broke the news a few weeks before we packed up and left Colorado Springs to relocate two hours north.
“Can you just come with me? Mom said—”
Alec whirls around. “You think I give a shit what Mom said? I’m not leaving. Fuck off, Gemma.”
I grit my teeth.
A few people nearby watch with interest. High school kids are vultures for drama. They scent it like blood in the water.
My family issues don’t need an audience.
I keep my voice level as I follow Alec. “It doesn’t seem like you’re unhappy here. You fit right in.”
The ice in Alec’s eyes twists my insides. I don’t want to fight with my brother. It’s my fault we had to move, which I hate.
I was ripped from my friends, too.
The ones I had left, that is.
Forcing out a sigh, I change tactics.
“Mom doesn’t leave for her shift for another hour. If I text her to say we’re stopping for burgers on our way home, can we go soon?”
Alec’s expression shifts enough to tell me he’s considering it. He can’t resist food. We haven’t kept up with our old after school ritual, so maybe I’m getting through to him at last.
“Strawberry milkshakes?”
The corners of my mouth quirk up. “Strawberry milkshakes and fries.”
For a brief moment, we’re not at odds.
Then a pair of strong hands yank me away from Alec by my hips. I’m whipped around and tugged against a wall of hard muscle.
Before I can react, the stranger’s lips cover mine in a demanding kiss.
And just like that, there goes my first fucking kiss.
Two
Lucas
A cheer of coyote howls rises over the heavy beat of the music when I step off the stairs.
My house is packed. I grant people a happy grin that I don’t feel, accepting the fist bumps, half-hugs, and slaps on the back with birthday wishes.
Smoke wafts in from outside when the contemporary glass panels are folded open to enter and exit. In the hall by the bathroom a couple of people lift their hands to their noses and snort bumps. All around me, people revel in the wild bacchanalia of a Lucas Saint party.
The old me would slide into the party vibe without any problem. But can I fake it so everyone believes I’m enjoying my birthday party?
Hiding a frown, I weave through friends and allow the atmosphere to drag me under and bounce me around for a while.
When I come up for air, Carter’s there.
“Yo, dude.”
I bump my fist against Carter’s and accept the shot he offers. “Burns.”
“What’s the count?”
Carter passes me a fresh beer after we down our shots. He’s one of my closest friends and my teammate. We met in middle school when we tackled each other during football tryouts and from the first hit we’d stuck together.
I wipe the back of my hand against my mouth and swallow a sip of beer to chase the whiskey. “The count?”
My head swims a little. Everyone keeps handing me shots. I’m not trying to get fucked up tonight. My parents are out of town and I have Lancelot to take care of. I don’t trust that anyone here would remember to feed him or take him out away from the trails where coyotes and cougars frequent.
The plump old pug dog waddles down the steps from the second floor, greeted by coos from the girls. He flops onto his back in front of one group and is rewarded with belly rubs. A fond smile tugs the corner of my mouth up as he stretches his back legs under the attention.
“How many girls have gotten you off tonight?” Carter asks.
I forgot he was standing there.
Carter pushes his black wavy hair back and shoots me a goofy smile. He’s an easy-going guy. It’s what I like best about him; he’s always down to have some fun.
My smile doesn’t stretch as wide as his.
I can’t enjoy it like I used to.
“Ah, you know.” I wave him off. “Can’t kiss and tell.”
“Bullshit, man. Last week you told me all about how Heather rode your dick in your Jeep at Peak Point.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. He’s not wrong, that did happen.
Carter laughs and cuffs my shoulder. “Just tell me the count tomorrow. I want to know if I won the betting pool with the other guys.”
I snort, but I’m going through the motions.
Shaking my head, I say, “You guys are a bunch of jackasses. Go enjoy the party, you dick.”
I leave Carter and hold back a sigh.
It’s my senior year, I’m the varsity quarterback, and the whole school showed up tonight for my eighteenth birthday. People cheer my name when I walk by. Girls have been giving me the look all night, whispering promises in my ear with a gleam in their eyes as they palm my junk not-so-subtly.
I can have my pick of any hot piece of ass I want. Hell, all I need to do is shoot them a crooked grin and snap my fingers. I’m treated like a god amongst these people.
I’m living the high life right now.
And it all feels hollow.
One girl catches my eye across the room and mimes a blowjob with her tongue in her cheek. My dick should jump at the prospect of a bathroom quickie.
Instead of taking her up on sucking my cock, I hide a grimace in my beer as I down the rest of it and pretend I didn’t notice her.
“Refill?”
Devlin tips his red plastic cup at me and quirks his lips into a smirk. Dark fringe hangs over his eyes. Everyone calls me the golden Saint but Devlin’s known as the dark devil of Silver Lake High.
“Can’t have empties on your birthday.” Devlin steers me towards the keg. He nods to every girl along the way, doling out winks and blowing kisses. He’s a huge flirt. Devlin gestures with his cup and points out a hot chick dancing with her ass pushed out. “If you don’t come out of tonight hooking up with at least three of these girls at once, you’ve done your birthday wrong.”
I snort and allow him to lead me to my next beer.
Devlin is a year younger than me and a junior at Silver Lake High. Our moms are sisters. He’s been a built-in friend since we were in diapers. He’s always around because his parents travel so much and the only company he has at his own house across the lake are his collection of cars.
Despite the slight age difference, he’s got a couple inches of height on me. But I win with my muscular build.
He’s leaner, all wiry limbs that grant him a lethal speed on the soccer field. I almost wish I’d tried harder to convince him to try out for football, even though the new guy is speedy as fuck. Devlin has always had a natural talent for whatever he picks up. Not that he gives that much of a shit about sports. Or anything, other than his precious cars, as far as I can tell.
Devlin lives up to his devil-may-care reputation. He only plays because his best friend is the team captain.
“
Lucas!”
A chorus of people celebrate as we reach the keg. Someone shoves a fresh beer in my hands and Marissa drapes herself against my side. A hollow despair stabs me in the chest.
Marissa Hill is a cute little thing with pouty lips and a tight ass. I should know, I’ve been balls deep in it. She’s been gunning for the head cheerleader spot since freshman year. Now that she has it, she’s got it in her head that she and I will rule the school as our royal court.
I’ve been avoiding my on-again-off-again girl most of the night. I do a quick scan of the people nearby, hoping for some excuse to slip away from her.
She presses her tits against my bicep and bats thick fake eyelashes up at me. Her brown hair is swept into a high ponytail with one of her oversized evergreen and white SLHS cheer squad bows.
“Where have you been all night, baby?” Marissa walks her manicured nails along my forearm. She pitches her voice low and seductive. “I’ve been trying to get you all to myself. I want to give you a special birthday present.”
Marissa is a Coyote Girl.
It’s what we call the groupie chicks that hang around the football players.
She was the first girl I kissed and the first I slept with. Ever since then, she’s been climbing into my bed and hanging off my arm like I belong to her.
“It’s my birthday. Everyone wants a piece of me tonight.” I bark out a laugh and slam my cup against one of my teammates’ when he toasts to me. “I’m just spreading the love.”
Marissa’s glossy pink lips twist. “You shouldn’t ignore me.”
“Riss.” Defense faltering, I tuck her against my side. I’m keeping an eye out for a way out of this conversation. “We agreed to a break last month. It was your idea.”
“That was before.” Marissa hitches her shoulder. “I miss you.”
My gaze travels down her body from her caramel-colored eyes to her tight white crop sweater that reveals her flat tan stomach. There’s no denying she’s sexy as hell. But no matter how many nostalgic memories I have of the first girl I thought I loved, I can’t dredge up any desire for her now.
“Bishop! Get over here!” Devlin shouts at his best friend.
It’s a weak distraction, but I turn my attention to Bishop instead of answering Marissa. She complains under her breath and rubs against me like a fucking cat in heat.
My jaw clenches in exasperation. Jesus.
Bishop leaves the group at the kitchen table and heads our way.
He is another junior, but he’s allowed to hang out because he’s Devlin’s friend. Bishop is also the principal’s son and has a mischievous streak a mile wide, so he’s handy to have around in our group. He sidles up, hands stuffed in the pockets of his varsity soccer captain zip up.
Bishop surveys the handful of us huddled around the keg and narrows his eyes.
“No, no, no.” He holds up his palms. “This just won’t do. This is Lucas Saint’s birthday.” Bishop flashes us a grin and points to me. “There needs to be about eight hundred percent more shots going on. Especially for you, Saint.”
Whoops and hollers follow Bishop’s suggestion. Bishop and Devlin disappear for a few minutes, then return with a bottle of Jack Daniels and cups.
“Can you handle eighteen shots, or will you puss out on us?” Bishop presents me with a plastic cup and brandishes the whiskey.
“Fuck you, you damn sadist.”
I snatch the cup while Bishop snickers. He pours shots for everyone.
“Want to do a body shot, babe?”
Marissa peeks at me through her false lashes. She pretends to lift the bottom of her cropped sweater higher, like she might show off some underboob. I think she’s aiming for coquettish, but it misses the mark by miles and falls firmly under slutty.
I open my mouth, but my brain derails before reaching an answer. Goddamn it, the break was her idea and I’m getting sick of these games.
“To our golden boy, Saint,” Devlin toasts, saving me from dealing with Marissa. I flash him a grateful look and he lifts a brow. “And to you seniors fucking off after this year.”
Devlin ducks with unrepentant amusement when I swipe at him.
“Let’s get fucked up!” Bishop howls like a coyote and downs his shot.
The rest of us answer his battle cry and down our drinks.
Marissa makes a show of letting her whiskey spill from the corners of her pouty mouth, the amber rivulets trailing pathways down her neck.
“Oops,” she murmurs as she plasters herself to my body again. “I got all messy. Lick it up for me, baby.” She rises on the balls of her feet to whisper in my ear. “And then we can go to your room and I’ll lick you.”
Incredulous, I watch her from the corner of my eye.
Part of me just wishes I’d give in. Even though I’m done with her bullshit, my life makes more sense when I go with what’s expected of me. Play the quarterback position, date the head cheerleader, live the all-American dream.
It’s easier to shut off and stick with the status quo.
But I can’t.
“Marissa, come on…”
I gently nudge her back and wipe up the trail of whiskey from her neck with my knuckle.
I cast my attention around the party, looking for another paper thin excuse to slip away.
“Elena’s trying to call you to dance.” I give Marissa an encouraging push. “Go have fun. I’m probably going to swing out back for a smoke.”
Thankfully, Marissa takes the bait. Her hips sway with exaggerated movements as she struts away from me. As soon as she’s with her friends, she drops low into a squat and sticks her ass out, wiggling it enticingly.
“Christ,” I mutter.
Devlin claps me on the shoulder. “Should’ve just let her suck your dick. Then she’d get bored and leave you alone for the rest of the night.”
“The break was her idea.”
“It’s always their idea when chicks want to free themselves of attachments.”
I frown. “Her parents took her to Monaco over the summer.”
Devlin gives a low whistle.
“Yup. She was totally trying to snag some guilt-free vacation dick.” A contemplative expression crosses Devlin’s face. “Or pussy.”
“I don’t care. I’m done with her anyway.”
“Well, you’re going to need to prove it in front of everyone.”
“I’ve been looking all night, but nothing’s caught my eye.”
“What about that one?”
“No.”
He scans around us and subtly points out another beautiful girl. “That one?”
I sigh. “No.”
Our back and forth continues as we scope potential picks. Across the room, I spot a girl I can count on to get my current ex off my back for the night. She’s my old faithful.
“There. Heather’s perfect for this.”
A mix of relief and heat trickles through me as I cross the room, eating up the distance in four strides.
She’s talking to Alec, the new guy we appointed as our wide receiver. Her honey-blonde hair falls past her shoulders in soft waves that beg for fingers to sink in and pull on. It’s shorter than when I saw in school. She must have gotten it cut.
My attention dips to her ass and I wet my lips.
Sorry, bro. Team captain status and my birthday trumps the new kid in line for pussy.
I grab her hips and spin her. The shocked squeak from her barely registers before I crush my lips to her mouth. My arms surround her, fingers buried in the silky hair at the nape of her neck.
Her ass is divine. It fits perfectly in my hand.
She squirms and my arms tighten. Every time we fuck, we play hard to get as foreplay. It sets my blood on fire and my dick hardens in my jeans.
Wolf whistles chorus around us.
As I kiss her, I’m overcome by the urge to toss her over my shoulder and cart her to my bedroom. She smells incredible and I’m eating up the soft sounds that escape her.
God, my
dick has woken the hell up. The apathy clinging to me has fled. I’ve regained a little of my old self. It makes me grin against her plush lips.
She’s got me raring to go from one kiss.
I am going to fuck her so good she won’t walk right at school on Monday.
All night long, my dick hasn’t shown any interest in a girl. It’s good to be back on top as I kiss the hell out of the fiery little minx in my arms.
Three
Gemma
There’s nowhere to go.
My body is trapped against his.
He has one big hand planted on my ass, squeezing it, and the other clamped around the back of my neck to keep me in place as he claims my mouth.
The kiss is ravenous.
My brain can’t follow a straight path because the way his tongue pushes past my lips makes my toes curl.
When our tongues touch, his low growl vibrates through my body and triggers a piercing pulse of heat.
After what I’ve been through, I’m shocked by the answering excitement singing in my veins.
This is the opposite of what I pictured for my first kiss. The sweet, soft press of lips I imagined has burst into flames, scorched away by the reality of this wicked, possessive onslaught of heat.
As the caveman bastard’s hand glides over my ass and digs down the waistband of my jeans, my brain finally catches up. I inhale sharply and bite the asshole’s lip—hard.
It has the desired effect. He jolts back with a grunt, releasing me to press his fingers to his lip.
I hope it fucking aches.
“Is that what you do around here?” I spit, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Just go around kissing every girl like you own them?”
Surprise crosses his face for a second before he blinks it away.
Now that he’s not assaulting me with his uninvited kiss, I get a good look at him.
Oh shit.
The burglar of my first kiss is that damned football captain, Lucas Saint. I still haven’t figured out how the gymnasium door opens without sticking, but I have learned that this guy is the king around here. The whole school worships him.
Lucas stands tall—taller than my brother at over six foot—with light brown hair and arresting blue eyes. He has broad shoulders, and those arms he trapped me with are sculpted.
Wicked Saint: Sinners and Saints Book 1 Page 2