I answered the group text that had been buzzing like a hive since school let out.
Bradley: I’ve got the kegs.
Dax: More than last year right? We ran out last year.
Bradley: Six. Enough for idiot Steve to do his signature handstand and spill everything.
Steve: Shut up, Brad.
Bradley: Don’t be an idiot then.
Dax: Fuck you both on about. Chill.
Bradley: Anyone got the cups? We need cups.
Dax: Allie’s supposed to bring them.
Steve: She’s fucking unreliable.
The messages went on and on, the bickering increasing with each sentence.
You guys are all punk ass morons. I wrote, smiling.
Bradley: Drakeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Steve: Boi!
Dax: Finally!
I’m coming. I’ll get the cups. Just make sure the music is fucking tight.
Steve: Tight like the pussy we about to smash.
Steve, you are an idiot.
Steve: Sorry, Drake.
I showered and changed, putting on torn jeans and a shirt my mom had gotten off the pre-fab rack from some hot-shot designer in California. At first glance, it looked like any typical white dress shirt. On closer inspection, it had a silvery pale houndstooth design running over the material. I half-tucked it and rolled the sleeves up over my elbows. I didn’t know why girls liked that, but they did. It was the rebirth of female ankles in the damn Victorian era.
I didn’t bother looking in the mirror. I didn’t need to.
“I’m going out,” I called to Dad who was sitting in the kitchen surrounded by paperwork. Lacey was here today—our personal chef. She came twice a week to stock the fridge and prep easy meals for me and Dad when Mom was gone, which was most the time. When she was home, Lacey came daily—Mom wouldn’t eat food that wasn’t absolutely fresh.
“We have a board meeting in the morning, Drake. I don’t want you partying all night and then too hungover to attend.”
“I’m not even part of the company yet,” I protested, knowing I wouldn’t win.
“But you will be one day.”
“Sure, if bitch Gran ever dies and you actually inherit full control. Then maybe, maybe, you’ll croak and I’ll be the big head honcho.” I grabbed my keys from the hook near the garage door. “Really looking forward to that actually. So don’t worry, nothing can make me miss tomorrow’s pointless weekend board meeting.”
“Drake, you will not talk about your grandmother that way.” My dad was standing now.
“You have to suck up to her, Dad,” I barked out, hand on the door knob and ready to bolt. “I don’t have to. You’re desperate for her to keep you in her will. You’re playing the long game. I. Fucking. Don’t. Have. To.” I turned the knob and pushed out into the stale air of the four car garage, punching the garage door button for the third parking space. I was in the convertible, ignition turned and shifting gears before Dad made it to the top of the four-rise steps. His face was red, his chest puffed out.
The wheels screeched as I hit the gas. I didn’t hear a word he was yelling as I made my escape.
***
After a quick stop to empty out the local dollar store of plastic drinkware, I made my way out of town towards Peterson Lake. Save for a decrepit mansion on one side of the water, there was nothing around the 20 acres of freshwater. My family had bought it after the Peterson’s went bankrupt, back when the Castleton’s were fairly new to River Valley. The only caveat of the sale was the name retention, which grated my grandparents, but they complied to get rid of the Petersons for good. As much as my grandmother, the bitch that she was, wanted to change it to Castleton Lake or some such nonsense, she still couldn’t. The legal addendum was in perpetuity. It would be called Peterson Lake even after River Valley crumbled to dust.
Normally, I was fashionably late to these sorts of things, but I couldn’t be tonight—not with Tarryn already there and me bringing the containers for underage alcohol consumption. I took a right onto the red dirt road that led to party central.
More than twenty cars were already parked in the large clearing that used to be farm land connected to the old Peterson mansion.
Bradley was by the top-down convertible seconds after I parked. “Thank you, Mr. Castleton,” he spoke jokingly, leaning over the door frame to start snagging bags of red and blue cups. Steve and Dax showed up soon-after, loading up and each bragging over how many tipsy girls would go ‘gone wild’ tonight. There were plenty of smaller parties throughout the year, but the official lake party was different.
There were three rules. I don’t know who established them, but everyone treated them like Moses walking off the mountain with the fucking commandments.
A—the rule everyone knew and fucking enforced: don’t take advantage of a girl or guy who couldn’t say ‘no’ or ‘yes’. These parties were… were a damn sacred mating ritual. Cliques who’d never hang out otherwise, mingled. Societal walls didn’t matter. For one night a damn year, everyone was just a person. The football captain could screw a ‘down-and-out goth girl wreck’ from the batch of townie orphans, and no one would comment or bring it up later. The lake party was our own damn Vegas. What happened here, stayed here.
Which went into the second rule.
B—no one talked about what happened on lake night to adults. All the parents in River Valley knew about the party, but they turned a blind eye to it, because in the decades-plus history of the yearly bash, nothing too terrible has happened. After morning regrets and naked hangovers maybe, but no accidents, no lives in danger.
C—everyone, sober enough to stand, cleaned up the woods and lake the next day.
“You coming?” Dax stood next to the car, face curious, because I was still sitting behind the wheel with the engine idling.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” I turned the key and got out, not bothering to put the top up—the leather didn’t need protection from the clear skies above and I purposely hadn’t parked under trees.
It was close to sunset, the sky darkening and colors beginning to push into the deepening blue. Things would really kick off after dusk, when the generators kicked in and the hundreds of lights blared to bright life in the trees around the main gathering area—a clearing next to the lake with a small man-made beach. No tables or chairs, but plenty of blankets and towels for the taking. Funny thing, all the stores stocked-up on blankets and towels right before this time of year, not because the kids bought them for the party—but because all the parents had to get new ones when theirs inevitably disappeared. Yet again something no one mentioned; it was just one of River Valley’s quirks.
Stuffing my keys into my jeans, I followed Dax into the woods. It was a good ten minute walk before I saw the shimmering of water through trees and the dark sand of the manmade beach. My eyes started scanning the people, looking for Tarryn. I didn’t see her, but I did see Aiden. I walked over to him quickly, wondering what the fuck he was doing here. He never came to shit like this. Ever.
“Hey, Drake, what’s going on?” Aiden turned to me, string of lights in hand.
“Why the hell are you here, Aiden?” I answered his question with a question. The pleasantness on his face faded.
“It’s a high school party. And I’m a high school student.” Aiden spoke coolly, unraveling the lights and turning to hang them in the tree he was near.
“You never come this shit.”
“Thought it couldn’t hurt to embrace the teenage experience for once.”
“I need you to go home.” I dug out my wallet and started pulling out bills. “I told Tarryn I couldn’t… you couldn’t come. You had to stay home and watch your brother.”
Aiden finished with the lights before looking at me again. “You realize my brother is fourteen now. He doesn’t need a babysitter.”
“Tarryn doesn’t know that.” I pushed, counting the bills in my hand.
“I’m not leaving, Drake. Besides, you wanted me to fli
rt with Tarryn. What better time to do that than the legendary Peterson Lake party.” Aiden gestured around us. “I can just tell her my mom let me off the hook.”
I thought about it, going over options in my mind. At least if Aiden were here, Tarryn would be occupied by a decent guy, one that wouldn’t take her out into the woods with a soft blanket and a couple of beers.
“Fine,” I held the money out to him. “Do your job then. Here’s the next few days’ worth.”
He took the cash like before, furtively with eyes darting around. “I can’t believe you carry around this much cash.” The bills disappeared into his pocket.
“Fucking pocket change,” I mumble and walked away. Lost in my own thoughts, angry at Aiden for showing up at the party, I nearly run into someone. No. Not just someone.
Tarryn.
“What were you doing with Aiden?” She looks me straight in the eyes, no flinching. I do flinch. I don’t like being taken by surprise. I don’t like the way she looks—like a fucking goddess crossed with an all-you-could-eat buffet. She’s wearing a red sun dress, bow below her collarbones, an expertly-placed hole beneath that showed off just a peek of breasts. Her hair was pulled up in a sleek ponytail, waves of brown bouncing. A jacket was folded over her arm and it was the first time, looking at her wrists and hands, that I realized how daintily she was built and how her skin was the softest tan possible, just a kiss of summer and pink.
“You look nice,” I said before I could stop myself.
“Don’t change the subject, Castleton.”
I frowned; for a second, I’d forgotten we’d chosen the path of most resistance here. “I’ve known Aiden Quinn since we were both eight, Square. I was talking to him because I wanted to.”
Tarryn examined me like a criminal investigator heading a murder case—not the way I had her, with an appraising eye for all the goods. “Just don’t…” she stopped talking, biting her lower lip. “Don’t screw around with me, Drake. Okay? I’m having a hard enough time adjusting here. It hasn’t helped having you on my case since day one.”
Once again, that little pang of guilt I’d felt with Tabs came back to haunt me. A sharp niggling in my chest that told me some day I was going to have to stop being such a goddamn screw-up. I opened my mouth to say something, anything. Maybe I wanted to apologize. Maybe I wanted to keep the game going. But then movement behind Tarryn caught my eye—Sasha, aka goth-girl chic, was approaching us; she carried two stuffed-to-the-max grocery bags.
“You okay, Tarryn.” The new arrival slung her arm around Tarryn’s shoulders.
Tarryn shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I’m fine.”
“Oh, don’t look now, but there’s Aiden. That tall glass of chocolate milk is looking fucking fine tonight.” Sasha took her arm off Tarryn and spanked her on the ass playfully. “Go get him, tiger.”
Tarryn jumped a little from the slap, but then she smiled nervously. “I’m going, I’m going. He wasn’t supposed to be here.” Tarryn glanced at me and I wondered what she was thinking when our eyes met, but then she was brushing past me and gone.
I walked off too, glaring at Sasha who winked at me. The party was starting to heat up now and it was dark enough that someone switched the generators on. A million fake stars brightened the shadows, just as fifty-plus students pushed through the woods into the beachside clearing.
Scanning faces, I moved until I was next to a large tree; I leaned against it, debating my next move. I was staying until Tarryn left, that was no question, but in the meantime I needed something to focus on, something to take the edge off the knife that was slicing through my brain. I wanted to erase the pale crisis of self I was having, eradicate the morsel of guilt that was plaguing me.
Mara Willis.
Dressed in nothing save a black bikini top and a miniskirt. The triangles of material against her D-cups weren’t enough to cover her completely.
Tabitha was with her, along with Dianne Hu and Sydney Lane. They were all friends, frenemies at times, and I’d screwed each of them at one time or another. Mara I’d only been with once. She’d shown a touch of a dark side, liked to be cuffed to the bed and blindfolded, enjoyed light BDSM.
She’d do tonight. It would hurt Tabs, but the normal me wouldn’t care. And that’s what I wanted to be again—Drake fucking Castleton, King of the school, who got whatever the hell he wanted, when he wanted.
I didn’t have to approach Mara; she looked my way like most girls did. I had my hands casually shoved in my pockets and I focused the full weight of my stare on her, giving a little nod before she walked away. The quirk of her mouth told me she understood.
That’s the way it was supposed to be.
I didn’t chase a girl. She came on fucking command.
***
“God, Tabs is going to be so pissed at me.” Mara tilted her head back as I kissed her neck. “You know she cried on the phone to me for a solid hour after your fight.”
“It wasn’t a fight,” I murmured, moving lower. I bit her shoulder gently and she gave a soft gasp.
“Ugh, to her it was. End of the damn world.” Mara repositioned so she was facing me, enough distance between us that I couldn’t easily kiss her. Her hand slid down the front of my shirt and found the button on my jeans. “I told her she knew what she was getting into when she answered your call. Drake Castleton doesn’t have girlfriends.” The button was undone now and she unzipped me slowly. I reached out and kneaded her right breast, the sleek material of the swim top left nothing to the imagination. I could feel every curve of her beneath the cloth, every little bump, the way her nipples were round and short and hard.
She snaked her hand into the opening of my boxers and groaned when she found me already growing hard. “You’re such a man whore, Castleton.” Her fingers wrapped around my shaft, firm and sure of themselves. She stroked up and down until I was fully hard, tip of my cock thick and throbbing.
“If I’m a man whore, what are you, Mara?” I let go of her breast and I reached around her back, pushing my hands under her ass and yanking her to me roughly. The crotch of her swim bottoms rested against my dick now, the miniskirt hiked up to her hips. “You’re the one so hot you’re already soaking through.” Holding her firmly with one arm, I reached down and pressed my palm against her. “So fucking hot,” I nearly growled.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this. Don’t you dare tell Tabs, okay?”
“Stop worrying about Tabitha.” I pushed the black bikini to the side and ran a finger gently against her, barely dipping between the lips. She leaned against me and shivered. “This is about you and me now. We’re at the fucking lake party, and what happens here,” I looked up at her, “stays here.”
“Okay,” she whispered breathily.
I pushed two fingers into her, as slow as I could manage even though it made my pulse race and my dick throb. She moaned my name and that was everything I needed to set my world straight—someone saying ‘Drake’ like I was a damn deity.
Her hands gripped my dick again, and she followed my pace. Up and down. In and out. I worked her until she was on fire, my fingers coated and sticky. “Fuck me,” she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to mine, moving her lips slowly, her tongue darting in and out. “Fuck me,” she mumbled again.
“Not yet.” Pushing her down onto the blanket, I unclasped the front of her swim top. “Easy access,” I said appreciatively, lowering my head to bite one nipple and pinch the other. She arched her back, riding the line of pain and pleasure. I reached down her body, pulling her skirt higher and tracing the top of the swimwear.
“Stop teasing,” she covered her face, her body writhing.
“I remember you like a little torture.” I moved to the end of the blanket and pulled the black bikini off, then pushed her legs apart. I knelt between her legs and lowered my head to lick gently against her pussy. Just the barest tickle and I reveled in the way she gripped the plaid blanket, fighting the waves of anticipation.
I pushed my tongue dee
per. She was sweet and salty. I moved my tongue over her clit, back and forth, over and over until she begged me to stop.
“Stop. Not yet.” She reached down and gripped my hair, pulling me away. I let her guide me up her body and to her mouth. We kissed in a frenzy, not caring that there were other couples around us, the audio of which was a porno on steroids.
Finally, I sat up and pulled her with me. She moved to straddle my legs. I knew she was ready, but it was my decision. I said when. I gripped her neck gently with one hand and her gaze widened. “My turn.” I moved my grip to the back of her neck and forced her down. I threaded my hand through her hair as her mouth closed around my cock. She moved slowly at first, rhythmically. I leaned back, one hand on the ground supporting my position, the other hand still on her head. I felt pleasure build, a shaken soda bottle ready to blow. I gripped her hair tightly now, pushing her down deeper on my dick, deep enough that I heard her gag just a little, and then I pulled her back off. Her eyes were wild when she was sitting up again. But she didn’t ask. She didn’t tell me to fuck her. “Lay down.”
Mara didn’t need to be asked twice. I fished the condom out of my pocket and put it on. Her legs were around my back seconds later, her feet crossed at the ankles just above my ass. I wasn’t nice this time, not slowly torturing.
I shoved into her and I fucked her hard and fast. She reached down between us and rubbed her clit as I moved. We came nearly at the same time—her screaming into the night, me wondering why… though I’d tried my damnedest…
I didn’t feel any different. That grain of doubt still existed, even though I’d told myself I was a Castleton. That I was king of the fucking high school. It hadn’t helped. None of it had helped.
The different person that did care if Tabs found out about this and was hurt more still existed. The person that did know that using Aiden to manipulate Tarryn was wrong, still whispered in my brain.
I moved off Mara and shoved myself back into my pants after peeling off the condom. I tossed it into the woods; let some other poor fuck clean it up.
“Damn, Castleton,” Mara’s voice was still a little shaky. “Not even a minute of cuddling to make a poor girl think she’s more than a skank?”
Bully: A High School Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 1) Page 8