Trinity High: High School Bully Romance

by Savannah Rose

  Moaning softly, she loses herself, and I deepen the kiss, my tongue exploring every hot and wet corner of her mouth. A few years ago, I rubbed a few out while thinking about her in that tight white leotard she used to wear in ballet class—back when she had no idea I was following her around like a lovesick puppy. Before I became fully aware of how mean she could be, thanks to her father.

  I want her to feel me, so I push my hips forward, and she moans again. The frenzy is quick to engulf us both, as the kiss becomes something animalistic and out of control. We devour one another, likely responding to years of pent-up attraction. Feelings we’ve never had the courage to share or act upon. In that respect, and given what’s happening now, we were both exceptional cowards.

  She wraps her arms around my neck, her perky breasts pressing against my chest. If I don’t put an end to this now, I’ll end up inside her, and that just invites a host of new problems into both our lives. Her father would definitely kill me if he finds out about this.

  But I have very little resistance left. I can’t stop. Not yet. She gasps as I pull my lips away from hers and start trailing kisses down the side of her neck. I nip at the skin, leaving little red blotches behind. My hand slips down between us, looking for the hem of her tights. She runs a hand through my hair, tilting her head back as I take my mouth lower, finding the delicate valley between her breasts. My other hand is holding her close. If I break contact, I might lose her, and that would be the end of this. I’m not ready to let go. Not yet. I need a little bit more before I push Kira away. One more fix…

  “Elias…” she moans again as I get beneath her tights and panties and find the very core of her.

  “Fuck,” I manage, my fingers slipping between her incredibly wet folds. She’s so eager, burning white hot with desire. My erection is getting painful, desperate for some kind of release. I can’t. I can’t keep doing this to her, but I can’t stop, either. She feels incredible, her hips moving slowly, swaying toward me as I revel in her arousal.

  I push my middle finger through, finding the epicenter. My palm presses her clitoris, a little cluster of nerves so sensitive that she sucks in a breath when I push harder while moving my finger inside her. Kira is unraveling, coming apart at the seams, and I can’t get enough of the dark fire burning in her eyes as she looks at me.

  The both of us are nothing more than a runaway train. We’re moving fast, uncertain of what direction we’re headed in, but incapable of coming to a halt. I try to force logic into my mind; try to separate the animal from the man. But the truth is, I’ve always listened to my animal more. Always acted without thinking much of the consequences. Always done what felt good before I did what I knew was right. The more I discover, the more I want her. The harder I get. The tougher it is to ignore the complications that will arise from whatever else we do here today. I kiss her again without relinquishing control over her pussy.

  “Kira,” I manage. “We can’t…”

  Her hand, I’m not sure which, finds my towel. If she takes it off, that is it. I will lose the very last thread of self-control I’ve got left. I wonder what it would feel like to have her fingers wrapped around my cock, her lips slightly open as she prepares to take it all in.

  “Dammit, Kira, don’t!” I snap and break it all off.

  A split-second later, there’s a couple of feet of air between us, and I can breathe again. Kira is panting, her cheeks red as roses, her lips wet and demanding that I finish what I started. My fingers are slick, and I resist the urge to taste the traces of her. It would be something akin to reading her very soul, and it might just send me off the deep end.

  Somehow, this encounter takes a turn for the worse—the unexpected kind. Kira slides into one of the armchairs, her knees weak and her eyes filled with tears. She starts shaking, and I am left staring at her, regrettably horny and unsure of what to do next. She’s crying, and I’ve got a boner the size of Alaska asking for my assistance. My heart’s thumping, too, which is more than I usually get out of fingering a woman. There’s something about Kira… something that sabotages my entire thinking process and turns me into an animal, a predator, desperate to keep her close… to never let her go.

  “I’m… I’m so sorry,” she croaks between hiccups. It’s a straight-up meltdown now, and I was not prepared for this. “I’m sorry…”

  “Kira, what’s going on?” I ask, sounding remarkably calm. With one hand back on my towel, I kneel in front of her, trying to understand what’s making her suffer like this. I quickly realize that I absolutely despise seeing her cry.

  I hated it when we were kids, even when I was the one causing her pain. I hate it even more now.

  “I’m sorry…”

  “Kira, talk to me. Never mind what just happened. Talk to me.”

  She looks at me, and there is so much pain, I feel like I’m suffocating. Whatever she’s going through, it’s a lot more complex, and it’s hurting her deeply. “It’s just… I’m a mess, Elias. I mean, look at me. I came here to… I don’t even know why I came here.”

  “To thank me?” I reply with a sly smile, trying to take some of the pressure off her.

  “No. Yes. I think so,” she chuckles softly, though tears keep streaming down her cheeks. “I shouldn’t even be here, but I figured it might do me good to talk to you, to tell you that I really am sorry. That I appreciate you taking me into the hospital. That I appreciate your discretion.” She sucks in a deep breath, shakier than a 9.0 earthquake. “I don’t wanna fight anymore, Elias. I’m exhausted. I’m so fucking exhausted.”

  Every word she speaks has my heart on a race to nowhere, beating frantically and threatening to dismantle my entire judgment. “You want a change…” I say, leaving the sentence open ended.

  She sighs. “It’s more than that. The party, the incident with the pills and the booze… I think it scared me more than I initially thought, Elias,” she says, her eyes searching for my soul. “All our fights… the stupid arguments… and for what? Because our dads hated each other? It wasn’t fair. Not to you, not to me, not to our families. And you and me, Elias, we played along. We wanted to be good kids, to do what our fathers wanted… didn’t we?” I nod slowly, surprised to see such truths leaving her lips—lips which I shouldn’t want to kiss as much as I do.

  “Where are you going with this, Kira?”

  “I… I don’t know. I just… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for messing with you so many times. For being mean. For not being a friend, instead of a Malone foe,” she says, and I know she means it, but then there’s this little part of my brain that clicks back to the past. The part that tells me Malone is low enough to use his daughter against me, even when she’s at her weakest. That’s also the part of my brain that is fucking terrified. I know what it’s like to have feelings for Kira just as much as I know what it’s like to be hurt by her. My defenses should be up for more reasons than one.

  For another moment, I allow the seed of doubt that Sheldon planted in my head this morning to grow a little bigger. I start looking for an ulterior motive—anything to get my mind off the fact that I want Kira. I want her badly, and it’s only after being so close to her that I realize how deeply and how dangerously this attraction runs. She could be the end of me, if I’m not careful.

  I get up, hand still on my towel, and go back to the window. I keep facing her this time, just so she doesn’t ambush me again. My self-control is in tatters, and I won’t be able to resist if we go at it again.

  “As long as your father is in control of Fowler & Malone, I can’t exactly trust you, Kira,” I say, somehow finding the strength to reveal something I know will only serve to upset her. Sheldon wants me to get closer to her, but that would just make everything worse. I’ve got feelings for her. I always have. Ever since that day at the park. And despite the time she kicked me square in the balls and told me that maybe next time I should grow a tougher set of nuts.

  I shake my head, trying to dispel my wayward thoughts.

&nb
sp; I’d rather work on William Malone himself. I’m putting Kira on the backburner for now. It’s for her sake and mine. There’s a war coming, and I don’t want her to end up in the middle of it.

  My eyes zero in on her again when I hear her get up. She has her brows furrowed, a look of hope and fear of defeat contorting her features. “I… I’m not asking you to trust me, Elias. I’m just being honest with you, for once in my pathetic life!”

  “Thank you for your honesty, then,” I reply, forcing dryness into my tone. The more I practice being a dick, the better I get at it. “You should leave.”

  “I’m not my father,” Kira says. She’s shaking her head at me because she knows where this is gonna go.

  As much as it fucking kills me to continue playing the enemy, I don’t feel like I have a choice. Kira might want to drop the role of enemy now, but she’ll pick it right back up the moment I take her father down. And if I give in, if I allow her to think that we can be anything more, she’ll only be left feeling betrayed.

  “Okay,” I say, steeling my emotions and trying to inject as much venom as possible into my voice. “Good for you. Door’s that way.”

  A switch flicks. The desperation is gone and now, written in the lines of her face, all I can see is her anger. I can feel the air thickening between us. She blinks several times, probably wondering if I’m worth a response after this.

  “Fuck you, Elias,” she spits.

  Only a few seconds later, she’s storming through the house and slamming the door behind her. The silence of the house becomes so heavy, it nearly crushes me. Mom used to come from the garden at this hour, arms full of roses to adorn the crystal vases in the lobby and dining area. Dad would be at work. I’d be dragging my feet to get to school, while the maids got my lunchbox ready.

  I miss having a family. I don’t really like the person I’ve become.

  This isn’t where I wanted to be when I was a kid, but I doubt there’s another path left. Ten years ago, I would’ve run as far as my eyes could see once my father died. Now, however… here I am, continuing his work, constantly aiming to dismantle a company and destroy William Malone.

  “What a fucking legacy I turned out to be,” I mutter and head back upstairs, my balls blue and aching. I might as well call Giselle to take care of that. The last thing I want is pent up desire for the daughter of my greatest enemy.

  12

  Kira

  Two weeks have gone by since my Oxy incident.

  My whole resolve about training for the Nutcracker went up in flames the moment I unraveled in front of Elias. I’d gone there with the sole purpose of making amends. Of getting this major thorn out of our backsides. I wanted a clean conscience. A new beginning. Something to hold onto while I struggled to get myself clean and lean again.

  That effort failed miserably, in part thanks to Elias and his cold… downright heartless demeanor. I’d hoped he’d be more supportive, considering how he encouraged me back at the hospital. I’ve since come to understand that there are many sides to Elias Dressler, and they’re a mixed bag of decent and awful. More often than not, I get the latter from him, instead of the former.

  At school, we generally steer clear of one another. Giselle’s always around, hovering like a moth. Not that they notice me, since she and Elias are always busy checking each other’s tonsils with their tongues. Lorna usually the awkward but mostly silent third wheel—the more days go by, the sorrier I feel for her.

  Madame Olenna sent me a text the other day, saying she wants to talk to me. I think she wants to know if I’m coming back to dance class. I’m running out of excuses now, especially since my doctor has already updated my medical file with the school. It’s one of the things I hate about Trinity High. They have access to too much of our personal information. Who am I kidding? I’m the only one who’s pissed off about this, mainly because it puts me in the spotlight. It forces me to admit that… I’m afraid to start again.

  For two weeks I’ve been dragging my feet, popping pills whenever a twinge hits my ankle. Every promise I’ve made myself since the hospital has gone to shit. I can’t even be honest with myself and admit that I’ve got a problem. The appeal of total numbness is far too powerful. It’s impossible for me to ignore it.

  I walk down the hallway, bag on my shoulder, as I mentally prepare myself for class. Elias played a big part in my off-the-wagon fall. Stop lying to yourself. He’s a convenient reason. A trigger, at best. I’ll see him and Giselle in just a few moments, tongue-wrestling outside the classroom.

  “And there they are…” I mutter to myself, taking deep breaths as I try not to relive that kiss. It didn’t even play out the way I’d hoped. To this day, I don’t know what got into me when I moved towards Elias. When I kissed him. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t do it all over again.

  My god, his hand between my legs…

  The dark look in his eyes as he almost ripped an orgasm out of me. I’m wet again. Dammit. It happens every time I think about him, now. The sensations linger in my core, humming, buzzing and making me vibrate. The taste of him on my lips. The possessiveness with which he took hold of me and commanded my body. I can only imagine what he’d be like, if we went all the way.

  We won’t. The mere acceptance of the fact makes my heart ache in new and troubling ways. No wonder I find comfort in Oxy. It’s the only thing that makes me focus and function at a bare minimum in society.

  Fucking bastard.

  I should hate him.

  As I walk towards the classroom and I see him giggling with Giselle, one hand resting on her ass, I urge myself to hate him.

  He looks up, and my heart jumps into my throat. I should ignore them both, like I’ve ignored them for the past two weeks. But I can’t look away. The hand he’s got on her ass is the hand he used to…

  “Well, if it isn’t the former prima ballerina,” Giselle says, glancing at me over her shoulder.

  Fortunately for her, there isn’t a blunt object handy. Lorna chuckles. “You’re looking worse every day, girl.”

  “Says the pathetic third wheel,” I mutter, determined to get into class before the pot boils over. I’m inches from strangling someone, simply because of how naked and vulnerable I feel whenever Elias looks my way. It’s like he knows my deepest, darkest secret—he kind of does, if I think about it.

  “Don’t be jealous, Kira. It’s not a good look on you. Green is so last season,” Giselle replies, leaning into Elias. He’s expertly ignoring me. I can’t help but appreciate it. I don’t have the energy to deal with him, too.

  “If I were you, I’d focus more on those academic achievements. You’re of use to no one, particularly Julliard, with an abysmal GPA,” I tell Giselle, clearly touching a nerve.

  Her face sours and she tilts her head to Elias for backup, but gets no response. “At least I’ve got something to work for,” she hisses. “Unlike you. What have you got, Kira? Pain meds and the prospect of a career selling townhouses in New Jersey?”

  My eyes shoot to Elias, but he gives me just as little attention as he gives to Giselle. The fucking bastard. How much has he told her?

  For the first time, I find myself taking pride in what my father does. It’s my only line of defense in this particular conversation. There’s no way I’m letting this bitch make everything worse.

  “Fowler & Malone control forty percent of the real estate market in the state,” I say flatly. “I live in a mansion with a pool, overlooking Hampton Heights, Giselle. We’re doing alright. All my choices involve a different kind of success, but success nonetheless. All you have is your parents’ stale approval and the money they’re willing to pump into donations in order to get you in schools that wouldn’t accept you otherwise.”

  Giselle gasps. Lorna is speechless. Even Elias is staring at me.

  “I know. That came out in more words than I’d thought,” I continue, flipping the three of them off. “Anyway, fuck you. And Elias, maybe you should be a little more honest with your whore.�
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  I’m about to set foot into the classroom, when I’m yanked back with brutal force. I catch a glimpse of an astonished Giselle and a horrified Lorna, as I’m thrown against the wall. The air gets knocked out of my lungs. Elias pins me against the hard surface, his forearm pressing into my throat, making it harder for me to breathe. Lower, his hips are right up against me and I’m not sure what’s worse, the fact that he could choke me out at any moment now, or the fact that maybe I’d like it.

  Pathetic little thing that I am, I lick my lips at him. He presses harder, taking away any lick of pleasure that might have come with the way his hips are tight against me.

  “You might wanna watch your mouth, Kira.” It’s not a dare, it’s a threat. Still, I’ve never been one to respond well to threats.

  “You’re not wrong,” I manage to say, croaking and gasping for air. Every muscle in my body is turned to stone, as tension blows through me, gradually dissolving into fiery anger.

  I’m in a bad spot here. If I let Elias subdue me, I’ll be the laughing stock of the school. If I fight him, it might stain my record. But do I need a school record for Julliard anymore? It’s the end of September. I don’t think I have what it takes to try The Nutcracker again.

  Why the fuck am I thinking about ballet while Elias is trying to choke me out of consciousness?!

  “Here’s… Here’s the thing, Elias,” I say through gritted teeth, both hands gripping his forearm so hard, my nails dig into his skin, piercing it and drawing blood. He’s got an impressive pain threshold, I’ll give him that. He doesn’t bat an eye. “You don’t want to bully me here… because I’ve grown a lot since the last time you tried something like this.”

  “Oh, really? Because from where I’m standing, I’ve got you right where I want you,” Elias replies. I can almost hear his rampant heartbeats. The fact that he’s hard as steel doesn’t make it any better. I doubt anyone around us understands what’s truly happening here. Giselle’s head would explode if I told her everything about what Elias and I have put each other through.