All the Little Truths: A Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers High School Romance (English Prep Book 3)

by S. J. Sylvis

  His gaze was dark and heavy, lust covering every single feature that I’d grown to love. “Let me hear you say it.”

  “Say what,” I panted, still arching my body for his touch, like I’d die without it. “What do you want me to say?”

  His eye twitched. “Say you never stopped caring about me. Say you always felt the pull that I felt. Tell me you want me as bad as I want you.”

  If only he knew.

  My gaze never left his. “I want you.” My words shook the room. “I always have.” I glanced away, keeping myself from saying something that would completely ruin the moment.

  Eric stopped breathing. His eyes ping-ponged back and forth between mine, a little worry line forming between his eyes as if he were trying to decide if I was being truthful or not. My hand wobbled as I reached up and smoothed the wrinkle out. “It’s the truth,” I said with conviction. “Now fuck me like you love me—or hate me. Either one. Just fuck me, Eric. Put me out of my misery.”

  His eyes flared, and I felt the hot burning stake go through my chest. My pants and underwear were both down and halfway across the room when his warm, wet mouth slipped down in between my legs and coated me from the inside out. Darkness crowded my vision, my fingers pulling at the thick strands of his hair.

  This was such an intimate thing to me because I’d never done it. Most of the time, guys wanted me to suck them off, and then they’d finger me before we’d have sex. It was a fast exchange in getting five seconds of pleasure, but this? This made me feel worshiped. Like Eric cared that I felt good.

  My eyes flung open as a mind-numbing roll of ecstasy started to seep all around me.

  He was going to fucking destroy me, and I meant that both physically and emotionally.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Eric

  She was so fucking warm, and tight, and tasted like heaven on my mouth. Everything inside of me was corrupted. The only thing I wanted was to make this girl mine. I wanted her mouth, her pussy, her mind, her heart. I wanted it all.

  Madeline’s body moved like a stripper as she fucked my face. Her hips rolled and bucked, and I licked up every last drop that her pussy gave me.

  That’s right, baby.

  I knew she was close to getting off because her hips moved faster and her moans were unrecognizable. My dick had never been so fucking hard in my life. It was painful, and uncomfortable, and the only thing I wanted to do was fuck her with it. But I was a patient guy. The girl always got first dibs; that was just how it was.

  “Eric,” she hissed between clenched teeth, so close to overflowing. I smirked against her clit and brushed my teeth over it, sending her into overdrive. My finger wasn’t even halfway inside her wet walls when she clamped down and rode herself into bliss.

  My eyes clung to her as her pink lips parted, making that adorable little O with her mouth. Her cheeks were blazing; sweat glistened on her hair line. Her body trembled in my hands, but we were far from over.

  I could stay here all fucking night and fuck her on this very couch. I gave absolutely zero fucks that we were in my living room.

  Her breathing was still rushed, her body quaking with sweet little shudders from the high. Her baby blues were hooded and lust-filled as she sat up on her elbows and gazed at me in all her glory.

  In the past, I’d never let myself picture her like this. I'd always thought she was hot as hell, fuckable, one of the most attractive girls at English Prep—her blonde hair was like catching sight of the rising sun, her pink lips always appearing so soft and kissable. And although I’d always felt overly attracted to her, unable to keep my hands from touching her when we were alone, I didn’t let myself conjure up this image, because I knew it would completely consume me. And it did. Her eyes held so much desire and need that even if it were a life-or-death situation not to touch her, I still would.

  I always knew there’d be a day when I’d have Madeline at my mercy, and I knew when that day came, I’d destroy her in three seconds flat with vengeance.

  But when it came to Madeline, hate was a fleeting emotion, because instead of destroying her, I wanted to do the opposite.

  Madeline and I locked eyes as I wiped my mouth, the feel of my swollen lips rubbing over the back of my hand. She watched without trying to hide the rising desire, her eyes widening with each one of my slow movements. I crept down over her, pushing her body back down into a lying position. Her bra strap was hanging loosely over her shoulder, her silky hair covering the lacy fabric.

  The contact that our skin held was like a thousand fireflies lighting up the dark room. Everything felt warm and fuzzy. We were in a haze. Lust-locked.

  My fingers tingled as I pulled the other strap down to meet the crook of her elbow, her chest almost fully exposed. She arched her back, never once leaving my gaze, and I unsnapped the scrap of fabric with one skillful click, and soon, she was completely bare.

  The bulge in my sweatpants was pulsing, aching, almost so hard I thought it might fall off. The smallest brush of her knee against me had me sucking in air.

  Madeline’s head tilted just slightly before a mischievous twinkle appeared in eye.

  Her shaky hand left my forearm as I rested above her, taking in her beautiful, toned curves. She was small but had an athletic build—years and years of cheerleading, I was sure. I lowered down to her, my covered dick resting on her warmth, as she trailed a line with her finger from the very top of her chest to the bottom of her belly.

  What was she doing?

  Madeline’s eyes closed for a moment as her leg came up, and she hooked a toe in the top of my pants. They moved just enough for me to rise up and take them off all the way. I hovered above her, her thick eyelashes fluttering back and forth as her hand continued to trail up and down on her body.

  Was she teasing me?

  She was. She fucking was. Her hand stopped right above her clit as she peeked at me. Her lip was captured by her teeth suddenly, and when she started circling herself like I’d done just a moment prior, I almost came.

  “Is this your way of begging, Madeline?” I asked as I reached for my phone, snagging a hidden condom from in between it and the case. “Because I need you to know what you’re asking for. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  Part of me was a little on edge as the question left my mouth.

  “I know exactly what I’m asking for, Eric. But I’ll say it again in case you’re stuck in that head of yours.”

  The condom was on, and my hands slapped her legs hard as I brought her down even further and positioned myself.

  “Fuck me…please.” Desperation looked good on a girl like her. I wanted every single part of her.

  She was desperate for me to fuck her, and I was desperate for her to let me.

  “Only because you said please.” I smirked.

  Her lustful gaze turned dark for a moment before she spread her legs far and reached behind me and thrusted me in hard and fast.

  “Whoa,” I grunted, euphoria making me lose all train of thought. I was going to lose my fucking mind with her.

  There was no time to think. Once I was buried inside her, I couldn’t stop. I thrusted, and she met me halfway. Her head was thrown back, shoving her perfect tits right in my face. Desire clawed at me. I was wrecked with the need to make her feel good again because, believe it or not, that made me feel good.

  My arm cupped around her back, my other grasping her breast. Her small bud tightened under my palm, and I thrusted even faster. My lips were on her nipple, and once I grazed my teeth over her, her entire body shook as her pussy sucked every single ounce of life my dick had to offer.

  “Maddie,” I moaned, burying myself into her so deep I thought I’d be permanently embedded into her walls.

  We were both out of breath, our limbs tangled around one another. I wasn’t sure where she started or I ended. Our bodies were glued to one another, our sweat mixing, our separate scents becoming one.

  I knew, right then, I’d never be able to go back fr
om that.

  “Wow,” her sleepy voice finally whispered.

  I eventually pulled out of her, but instead of rushing away, I continued holding her sated body in my arms.

  “Mmm,” I answered, unable to form a single coherent sentence.

  “Tired. I’m…tired.”

  I nodded, pulling her in even closer. “Sleep,” I hushed, brushing her hair out of her face. “I’ve got you.” When I glanced down, her dainty ear was pressed against my heart, and she was already sound asleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Madeline

  Panic drove into my body as my eyes flung open. I lay perfectly still on a soft spot, covered up by a thick blanket as my head rested on a cloud-like pillow. Where—?

  I suddenly sat up, my eyes adjusting to the dim room. As soon as I realized where I was, my body started to relax a little. Eric wasn’t anywhere to be found, but being wrapped in his covers made me feel safe, especially as I was on the verge of another dark nightmare. I glanced at his clock, which read just after midnight, as I dragged the covers with me to peek through his bedroom window. My father’s Jaguar was missing in the driveway, and I wasn’t sure if that meant he’d already left for his flight, or if he and my mother hadn’t come back from their date yet.

  I went to go text my mom to check in, but I couldn’t find my phone. Or my clothes.

  They were likely still downstairs.

  “Dude, what the fuck?”

  I found the door to Eric’s room partly open, allowing faint voices to filter through.

  “What?” Eric asked, his voice more distant than the first.

  “Is this why you’ve been ignoring us? You really are fucking her?” That was Ollie, Christian’s brother and Eric’s best friend. What was he doing here?

  “Who said I’m fucking her?” Eric’s tone was nonchalant, and it set worry into every single hope-ridden thought I’d had since waking up.

  “Her clothes…all over the floor.” Oh, goody. Both Powell brothers were here.

  “So what if I am?” Eric asked, sounding angrier than before.

  “Dude. She is as unattainable as they come. What’s your endgame here? Fuck the crazy out of her?”

  Unattainable. Christian had some nerve calling me unattainable. And I would be lying if I said my feelings weren’t hurt as he called me crazy.

  “Shut the fuck up, Christian. You don’t know a single thing about her. Why are you even here?”

  “We’re worried about you, man. You’ve been ignoring us—even more after you told us about your dad and Madeline’s mom.” Ollie’s tone was softer than his brother’s, as if he really did care.

  He told them about my mom. Great.

  “Is that your plan?” Christian boomed. “Are you fucking her to get back at your dad? And her mom?”

  My heart came to a sudden halt. Heat coated every inch of my skin, yet my body was cold to the touch. I pulled the blankets up to my chin, listening even harder.

  “Christian. Back off,” Eric seethed, his voice near murderous. He didn’t deny it. Was that his plan?

  “No.” My eyes widened with the bite in Christian’s tone. Christian was as broody as they came. He fought with his fists and didn’t think twice about it. He was demanding and even a little scary at times. There was a reason he was the ringleader at English Prep.

  “I am not going to let you get sucked into her games. You’re hurting, we get it, but Madeline isn’t good for you or anyone else. She’s mean and cold.”

  Ouch. But he wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t good for Eric. Not at all.

  “Have you ever fucking asked yourself why?”

  I ignored the burning itch on the back of my neck that usually indicated I was breaking out in hives.

  “Why what?”

  “Why is she like that?”

  Ollie spoke this time. “Is this the part where you try to convince us that she’s a good person? We’re just trying to help you, Eric. We don’t give a shit who you’re fucking, as long as you have your head on straight.”

  I hated this. Here I was, sitting in Eric’s room, eavesdropping on a conversation with his best friends over why he should stay away from me.

  My feelings weren’t exactly hurt because of their insults, but more so because they were speaking nothing but the truth.

  “Christian?” Eric said his name in question. A long stretch of silence came after—so long I thought I might have been caught listening.

  “No,” Christian finally answered. “I’ve never asked myself why she was like that.”

  Someone clapped. “Exactly. You didn’t ask because you never cared about her.”

  “Okay. So?”

  I was sensing some serious rising tension even though I was upstairs in a completely different room. My skin was prickly.

  Eric’s voice was cool and calm. “Do you remember that time we fought freshman year out there on the lawn at English Prep?”

  I did. I remembered vividly. It was mortifying for me to watch. They were going at it. Their navy ties were pulled away from their necks; blood and grass stained their white shirts and khakis. My stomach was in knots.

  Christian was my boyfriend at the time, but I wasn’t worried about him at all. I was worried about Eric. He was hurting, and there was nothing I could do to make it stop. And that was the start of me shutting off my feelings.

  “Yeah, I remember. You gave up in the end.”

  Christian remembered the fight correctly. Eric did give up after we locked eyes. Something passed between us. Hurt? Sadness? I never did decipher what it was, because by that time, I’d pushed him so far out of my life it was like looking at a stranger.

  “You and everyone else thought that was our fight to the top. Who wanted to be the almighty king of English Prep. Eric or Christian?”

  I heard a faint snicker, which likely came from Ollie.

  “I wasn’t fighting to become the stupid fucking king, Christian.”

  Christian’s voice wavered. “Then why were you?”

  Eric’s laugh was cynical. “I threw the first punch because I was so fucking sick of seeing you and Madeline together. I was so sick of hearing how you fucked her like she was nothing to you.” There was a pause, and I was at the edge of the bed, eager to hear more. “I fucking had her first, and then she shut me out and somehow fell right in your arms, and you didn’t care about her at all. You didn’t even ask the important shit! Like why she never invited you to her house! Why you never met her father! Why she was so fucking standoffish to every single person she’d ever come into contact with.”

  Oh my God. This was bad. This was so bad. I felt so incredibly small hearing him talk like that. I hurt him when I shut him out. I hurt him even more when I dated his best friend.

  I fucked Eric up. Me. I did that.

  Christian was absolutely right. I was no good for Eric.

  The first time I shut him out was because I was selfish—only worried about myself. This time? I’d be the selfless one. I was all wrong for Eric. And eventually, he’d see that.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Eric

  My fists opened and closed a thousand times as I stood staring at my two best friends with their slacked jaws and wide eyes. Ollie was bouncing his eyes back and forth between Christian and me, likely wondering which of us was going to throw the first punch.

  I couldn’t help myself from shouting. “So you’re going to stand there and tell me she’s no good for me? Well, then what the fuck were you to her for all those years? Huh?”

  Red began to paint the corners of my eyes. The room was closing in. I was fucking pissed, and it was mostly irrational because Christian and Madeline both were nothing more than fuck buddies with a loose title, but still, the thought of her being so fragile and breakable was in the forefront of my mind.

  Madeline hid some serious fucking shit. But no one even dared to dig a little, not even her boyfriend at the time.

  “I never said I was good for her. We all know I was f
ucked up before Hayley.” He looked concerned, his dark brows crowding together as he walked around the living room, stepping over Madeline’s bra with his hands on his hips. “So, what? What’s so wrong with her life then?”

  I paused, glancing at the steps that led upstairs to where she was sleeping. If there was one thing I knew about her, it was that she wanted to keep things private. It was the whole reason she’d been so detached.

  “Just know you aren’t the only one with skeletons in your closet, okay? And back the fuck off. You had your chance with her. You don’t get to ask those questions anymore.”

  Christian’s jaw ticked as he glared at me. Ollie stood up, half coming in between us. But after a few passing seconds, Christian’s face relaxed like something came over him. “You know very well I’m not acting this way because I care about Madeline, Eric. Don’t get jealous. I care about you, Eric. You are my—" He glanced at Ollie before shaking his head. “Our best friend. We just want you to be smart. You’ve been distant, and for a while there, you drank yourself into a fucking coma at every party.”

  I sighed, glancing away. Yeah, well. Shit happens.

  “I don’t approve of you and Madeline because I think she’s sketchy. I think she’ll fuck you over eventually. It’s what she does. I’ve seen her do it to many, many people.”

  His words were digging himself into a bigger hole, but I still couldn’t fathom telling him what I knew. What she was going through.

  “People change,” Ollie’s voice barely registered. “You did.” He was looking at Christian with his brows raised to his hairline. “And not to pick sides or anything, but it’s been proven to us, time and time again, that we don’t always know what goes on behind closed doors.” He shrugged. “Take my girlfriend, for example.”