Heartless: A High School Bully Romance (The Privileged of Pembroke High Book 1)

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Heartless: A High School Bully Romance (The Privileged of Pembroke High Book 1) Page 25

by Ivy Fox


  I watch aghast as their hands travel down each other’s body, curious and intimate. Much like two lovers would tread before succumbing to their urges. Her lips are barely a breath away from his, daring him to take the first taste. I can’t help but stare as Kim twirls the brown locks at the base of Ollie’s neck, teasing each strand between her fingertips like I used to do once upon a time. The fist around my heart grips tighter as I masochistically observe Ollie leaning in and hushing something in Kim’s ear, making her squirm in his embrace.

  “I’m parched!” Elle yells out over the music and my shredded insides.

  “Huh?” I stutter, turning my eyes away from the horrific scene playing out just a few feet away from me.

  Don’t watch. Just don’t watch.

  Trying to be as inconspicuous as I can, I dance around until my back is now turned to the groping duo, who will undoubtedly be making an appearance in my nightmares tonight.

  “I said I’m going to get us something to drink. You want anything?”

  “Water,” I croak. “Water is good for me. Thanks.”

  “Okay. Be back in a jiff,” Elle beams, but Chad holds onto her shoulder, not letting her go.

  “I’ll come with,” he suggests, but Elle throws a worried look over at me, not liking the idea of leaving me alone.

  Before I’m able to tell them to go on ahead, I feel a little tap on my shoulder, and in my naivety I turn, thinking it might be Ollie. Of course, I’m disappointed when it’s just another guy with an all-American-football-player vibe to him.

  “Hey, wanna dance?” he asks.

  I glance from him over to a wary looking Elle, and then, to my heart’s misfortune, I catch a glimpse of the dancing couple who seem to be two seconds away from getting a room.

  “Sure.” I nod, giving him a non-committal smile.

  “Okay. I’ll be back really quick. Don’t try anything funny, Manning. I got my eyes on you,” Elle says, giving my dance partner snake eyes.

  He chuckles, and the minute Elle’s back is turned, he places his hands on my hips, bringing me a bit too close for comfort.

  “Manning? As in Trevor Manning?” I ask, recalling Ash’s opinion of him over breakfast this morning.

  “In the flesh. And you’re Holland, right? The new Grayson acquisition,” he jests, but the joke falls flat on my ears. “Have to say, I’d be having a hard time, too, if I had to call you sis,” he continues to tease, eating up the small distance between us.

  I place one hand on his chest, trying my best to back him up a bit so he doesn’t invade all my personal space, but his frame is pure steel, not budging an inch. I’m definitely starting to regret accepting his request to dance instead of following Chad and Elle to the kitchen.

  I try to shake it off and wait until the song finishes before politely excusing myself to find my friends. Unfortunately, when his eyes aren’t the only thing wandering my body, I begin to think that Trevor isn’t worthy of such a courtesy. The minute I feel his hand slide off my hip and grab my ass cheek, I’m seconds away from slapping his smug smile off his face. But I never get the chance to since Ash already has the handsy jerk by the collar, and throws him to the floor like a rag doll.

  “The fuck is your problem, Grayson?!” Trevor wails between punches, placing his arms over his head to defend himself from Ash’s left hook.

  “You’re my fucking problem! Did you miss the memo when I told you hands off?!” Ash belts out, his thighs straddling Trevor, incapacitating him from moving an inch.

  Each punch to the face makes me cringe, and the blood seeping out of Trevor’s mouth is a sure sign that Ash was successful in knocking out one of his teeth.

  “Jesus! It’s not like she’s your real sister or anything!”

  “Oh, fucker!! Keep testing me, and you’ll see just how serious I am!” Ash hollers, right before he head-butts Trevor in the face, breaking his nose in the process.

  The howl of pain that comes from the boy on the ground sends shivers down my spine. I look around, wondering why nobody is stopping this insanity, but the answer is clear—the circle of kids gathered around them would rather film the whole debacle on their iPhones, than stop the madness altogether. My eyes search for Ollie, hoping he can separate the two, but he’s nowhere to be found. I don’t have time to wallow in self-pity, wondering where Ollie could have rushed off to, while Ash is covered in someone else’s blood.

  “Asher!” I cry out, pulling him off the sobbing jerk on the floor since no one else seemed in a rush to do so.

  He stands up, looking around at the audience he created and wipes the sheen of sweat off his brow. He then tilts his head to one of the spectators with a phone, and spits out, “Upload that shit,” giving a kick to an already bruised and battered Trevor, “and make sure to add the warning that this is what happens when you defy a Grayson.”

  “Asher!” I yell, appalled by his behavior, and finally gaining his attention.

  “Your turn,” he growls menacingly, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the gawking crowd.

  I try to pull away from his unyielding grip and almost trip over my own feet trying to keep up with him. I always knew Ash harbored a volatile temper, so frail that it could be provoked by the littlest of things. But I’ve never seen him this unhinged before. To be honest, it’s a side of him that I have no intention of placating.

  No matter how Trevor behaved, I would have put him in his place without resorting to violence. Sure, my first instinct was to slap his face myself, but the sting I’d inflict would be more directed to his pride rather than his body. Ash wasn’t as thoughtful.

  Before I know it, I find myself out on the penthouse’s balcony where there is a small group of kids lounging about, smoking, and chatting amongst themselves. Unaware of the show that Ash just gave everyone inside, they don’t pay us any mind, allowing him to drag me to a dark corner of the balcony where their eyes can’t follow. The minute he lets me go, I push his chest with all my might, so he doesn’t trap me the same way he did to Trevor.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I belt out in outrage.

  “You! You are what’s wrong!”

  “Oh, you’ve made that abundantly clear. You treat me like I’m invisible and then act like a mad man when someone else shows me a little attention,” I spew, purposely leaving out the part that I’d rather chew off my hand than have Trevor’s lingering eye on me again.

  “Listen to me. I’m only going to say this once. If you want to make it this year at Pembroke, keep your head down and your legs shut. You hear me?” he growls in my face, and the slap I had intended to lay on Trevor’s cheek ends up being delivered to Asher’s, instead.

  Anger flashes across his face, and before I can cut him with my next scathing words, he grabs hold of my throat, putting an end to all conversation with a kiss that steals my breath away. Without asking for permission, his tongue invades me, ordering its counterpart to submit to its will. The toe-curling kiss is pure adrenaline, spiking up my heart rate and making me claw at his shirt to bring him closer to me.

  I moan into his mouth the minute I feel his erection hit my belly. Ash hears my silent plea and picks my leg up to cradle his hip, bringing our cores to collide, igniting my need further. My skirt rises to my thighs as his hand travels to my ass, taking an aggressive handful, making me unashamedly moan louder into his warm mouth.

  My body hums as he takes what he wants, desperate to keep this intimacy. I deepen the kiss, wrestling with his tongue, my hands now cradling his neck. His aggressive lips overpower mine, leaving me weak and needy, yet it’s the gentle caress done by the pad of his thumb on my exposed throat that does me in.

  “Ash.” I sigh, my eyes half-cast, entranced by this stolen moment.

  Unfortunately, while I’m willing to dive headfirst into this lust-filled haze, my voice breaks the spell on him. He places my foot back on the ground, keeping me pinned to the wall, not so much with his hand, but more with his
penetrating hazel eyes.

  “Don’t you fucking think of giving anything away that doesn’t belong to you. This,” his voice dips as he grabs my swollen pussy with his free hand, “isn’t yours to offer. Remember that.” His cold, threatening remark begins to smack some sense back into me.

  “It’s not yours either, Asher,” I stutter, swallowing down my aching frustration.

  He bites his lower lip, and the dare in his eyes is unmistakable.

  “Is that so?” He breathes into my ear, running his fingers over my panties and creating a delicious friction against my clit, which makes me bite the inside of my cheek to try and stop myself from grinding on his hand.

  “Then why is it all wet for me?” he hushes out, pleased.

  “Maybe Trevor was the one who got it that way,” I taunt, wanting to slap that smug smirk off his face.

  With a loud roar, he captures my mouth possessively, kissing all my resistance away, intent in showing me exactly who I belong to. In seconds, he has me raising the white flag in defeat, breathless and boneless with just one passionate kiss. He slides my panties to the side, inserting his fingers inside me while playing with my sensitive nub until I’m withering under him in ecstasy.

  “This is mine, Snow. Whether I use it or not. Don’t you fucking forget it,” he grunts, biting my lip, and then gently kissing the sting he left. His temple tenderly brushes against mine as he keeps his maddening tempo until I’m hit by a blinding orgasm, one that his hand is able to wring out of me in record time.

  “I hate you,” I spit out, knowing he can taste the lie on the tip of my tongue.

  “Doesn’t make what I said any less true,” he replies self-assured, the proof of his dominating power smeared on his fingers.

  His eyes still bore deep into mine as he licks my taste off his middle finger, looking even more arrogant now that he got what he wanted from me so easily. I’m disgusted with myself at how the image of him hungrily lavishing his finger with his tongue awakens the desire to put it to better use.

  “Take your hand off me, Asher, or I swear I’ll find a way to break every bone in it,” I warn him with all the contempt I have, knowing the feeling is as much directed at him as it is at myself.

  He takes a step back, and I place my open palms flat on the wall’s surface to keep me steady.

  “I’m sure you could. After all, you found a way to break my heart,” he whispers into the cold air. The cocky smile plastered on his face disappears in an instant, to be replaced with the same vacant look I’ve come to expect from him. Ash turns his back on me, leaving me standing there on trembling legs and ashamed of how weak I am when it comes to him.

  I’d hate him if I didn’t love him so much.

  I give myself a few minutes to recover, both from my orgasm and the embarrassment of allowing myself to fall prey to Ash’s cruel antics again. Confident of having no traces of humiliation on my face, I walk back into the penthouse in search of Elle, hoping she’s had enough fun for one night.

  I head toward the kitchen, not wanting to stay in the living room for too long, just in case the partying crowd becomes curious as to what happened between Ash and me outside. They may look at me a little more closely, and a rumpled skirt along with flushed cheeks are two dead giveaways of what we were up to.

  When I finally get there, my eyes lock on the last Grayson I wanted to see right now. Rome is leaning against the counter, a bottle of water in his hand, while his ex stands beside him, her red fingernails playing with the zipper of his leather jacket. I want to turn around before he notices me, but unfortunately, Roman Grayson is a bloodhound and probably smelled me before he even saw me. The side of his lip curls up, and his golden eyes fix me frozen in place, preventing me from moving an inch.

  “Want to find a room?” I hear Addison mewl in his ear, like a sexed-up kitten ready to use her nails to sink their way into his broad back.

  She’s even prettier up close. Her long, black lashes flutter away like butterflies, revealing gorgeous gray eyes. I’ve always liked the mystical color of mine, but Addison’s gray hue makes her eyes pop and demand to be noticed.

  “No,” Rome responds, his eyes never leaving mine, while Addison is still oblivious that she’s not holding his full interest.

  “Come on, baby. I haven’t seen you in ages. Let’s find a quiet place to catch up.”

  “You can beg all you want, I’m still not touching you,” he relents, sounding bored, but the satisfied flicker in his eyes tells me he likes hearing her grovel. And when he unashamedly winks at me, I realize that he likes it even more with me as a spectator.

  “Baby, I thought we moved passed this. I mean, don’t you miss me a little?” she coos but stops the moment she cranes her head up and realizes she doesn’t have all of his attention. “Rome, I’m talking to you! Will you at least look at me?” she orders, cupping his face in her hands and blocking everything else from his view.

  “No,” he replies flatly, snapping his head away from her grip.

  “Why not?” she huffs, and I almost expect her to start stomping the floor with her foot like an errant child.

  Rome leans down to her ear, and Addison’s triumphant smile appears, thinking he’s finally going to give in to her tantrum.

  “Because I can still see his dick in your mouth, that’s why,” I hear him whisper, and I take a step back, thinking this is a conversation I should not be privy to. But as Rome lifts his head away from Addison, he throws me another glare, silently threatening me not to take another step.

  “You said, forgive and forget.”

  “No, you said that. I never forgive, and I sure as shit never forget a thing. Or haven’t you been paying attention?”

  Her eyelashes bat one more time but to no avail. Rome is immune to her charms, and from the little I’ve seen of her, I don’t blame him.

  “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Elle shouts behind me, alerting Rome’s ex to my presence.

  Addison takes a long, scrutinizing gander at me and returns her gaze back to her target, only to establish that his eyes are still fixed on mine. She snaps her head back my way, no longer looking submissive, but ready for battle.

  “Who’s the girl?” she snarls, taking a step closer to Elle and me.

  Her fingernails tap on the kitchen island with each step she takes in our direction, while Rome just leans back, casually awaiting her next move.

  “This is Holland West—our sister,” Elle replies in my stead, her voice sounding just as bored as Rome’s did a minute ago.

  This arctic breeze the Grayson siblings are capable of conjuring must be a genetic trait. All of them have a knack at decreasing the temperature in a room to sub-zero levels with just their tone alone. It’s uncanny.

  “She’s not our sister, Elle. I told you already. She isn’t anything to us,” Rome muses, but I don’t feel the same conviction the accusation held this morning.

  “Really?” Addison singsongs, amused, taking a long, discerning look from the tip of my Chucks to the top of my head. The scrunch her face makes lets me know she’s found me wanting. “Hmm, West… West? Why is that name familiar?” she hums out, loud enough to grab the attention of the people around us.

  “Maybe it’s because it was on the wedding invitation you missed out on last month. Let me guess? Couldn’t make it because you were getting your lips done? What a bummer. The sacrifices you have to endure to fix all that,” Elle laments sarcastically, pointing the finger at Addison’s crooked, malicious grin.

  Some of the bystanders giggle at Elle’s remark, but Addison doesn’t look one bit put off. Actually, quite the opposite. She looks like she’s about to put on a crown and have everyone bow down to her and kiss her feet.

  “You wouldn’t by any chance be Craig West’s daughter, now would you?” she questions, and I’m sensing that if I reply, she’ll sink her canine teeth in me and chew me up in one fast bite.

  “What of it?”
Elle responds, but I really wish she hadn’t answered for me this time.

  The way Addison uttered my last name, and then immediately linking it to my father, increases the suspicion I have that she knew exactly who I was, long before she ever set her sights on me. The glint in her eyes raises the small hairs at the back of my neck, and when her vicious grin grows wide, splitting her face in two, I know the worst is on its way.

  “Don’t you know, Elle? Your new sister here is the daughter of a criminal. Craig West embezzled millions from his clients, stole people’s retirement funds, savings, and their futures—only to line his own pockets.”

  Addison hasn’t even finished her sentence, and I can already feel everyone’s eyes on me. The judgment piercing the air is making it so dense that I have to labor my breaths not to choke on it.

  “I bet you’re going to Pembroke too, huh? Did you know that some of our friends had to quit school last year, just because their parents had the misfortune of trusting your father? People that considered him a friend when, in reality, he was cleaning out their finances and bleeding them dry of every nickel they had.”

  “You’re exaggerating, Addison. They didn’t drop out of school. They just had to go to a public one,” Elle defends, her voice still stoic as ever.

  “Is that supposed to make it any better?” She cries in outrage, gaining the sympathy of those all around us.

  My initial instinct is to shrink under everyone’s critical gaze, but I’ve spent too many years shielding off Vivienne’s attacks to know better. My mother taught me a long time ago that showing weakness only fuels the predator, and the minute you give them that opening, they won’t hesitate to go for the kill.

  Addison might be Pembroke High’s favorite go-to bully, but she can never compare to the one I have at home. Addison doesn’t frighten me in the least. She continues to stare me down, but as I keep my expression as serene as it’s ever been, she begins to get an inkling of it, too.

 

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