Tainted Love: A High School Bully Romance: A Pacific High Novel

by Nichole Noel

  The one boy in the world who didn’t want me and who’d gone to great lengths to prove it was writhing beneath me, hands on my hips, holding me tight as I pushed us both higher and higher. The sounds of our breaths, quiet moans, and my body moving against his seem to echo in my ears. The sounds from the party disappears as I close my eyes and just feel.

  All at one, I know somethings different—something’s shifted and a jolt of desire runs through me that I’ve never quite experienced before. I push on, pushing higher, waiting and waiting for this tense moment to reach the edge and… And…!

  “There… right there. God, Sadie…,” he whispers encouragingly as waves of pleasure roll through me. It’s so strange. I never really got the whole sex or making out thing before, but I get it now. Oh God, do I get it now. Especially considering he’d helped me get mine and didn’t even seem to be concerned about himself, which went against everything that I’d ever heard about boys before.

  He almost seemed to get as much out of watching me as I did from grinding against his body. For a moment, there’s only breath shared between us as the party rages on. I’m in control here. I’m here because I want to be.

  And he’s beneath me, staring up at me like I hung the moon. And for a moment, I realize just how good it could be between us. And my heart clenches so tight it almost feels like it’s going to burst.

  I stare into his eyes, body tight against his, as I push him higher and higher and higher until, finally, he breaks. His head rolls back, hands clenching tight against my sides as he lets out a low, soft groan.

  And I’ve never felt so powerful before, nor so desirable. And I know, despite it all, I’ll never get the image of Connor O’Brien laying under me—feeling pleasure because of me—out of my head. Never.

  Chapter Twelve

  Afterwards, things are a little awkward as we lay together so I scramble for things to say. “I’ve never… I mean, this is the first time I’ve…,” I trail off.

  This is so embarrassing, but I’ve never really been intimate with another person before and of course, it just has to be with Connor, someone who up until like thirty minutes ago I thought hated me and wanted me to disappear off the face of the earth.

  “Fuck, Princess…,” he murmurs, and I think it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. All over again, my body feels molten and out of my control. I make a move to shift off because I don’t know what the hell to do next, but Connor’s hands hold tight to my hips and, with one swift movement, we’re both rolling until he’s on top.

  “I have to say, the pleasure was all mine,” he says as I swallow thickly.

  I’m out of my league here. Entirely out of my league. He’s obviously more experienced than I am, but it’s more than that. There’s a strange connection that seems to run through us like electricity. Everything is heightened when I’m with him—love, hate, blurred until only a thin line remains.

  For a moment, I have an idea of what it would be like to be his, and what it would be like for him to be mine and it’s such a blindingly surreal and overwhelming experience that it almost brings tears to my eyes.

  Things could be so perfect… if only we didn’t hate each other most of the time. If only he hadn’t betrayed your trust and broken your heart, my mind supplies. Another time… another place… another you… another him…

  But still, with his body pressed between my legs and his head poised close to mine, I can almost forget it all. I should be frightened of what’s between us, I should push him off, scream at him, beat at his chest, but all I want to do is curl my fingers into his shaggy dark hair and pull him closer—hold him tight. I shouldn’t be feeling this way for someone who normally can’t stand me, but a part of me never let go of the affection I had for him.

  Part of me has always wanted him to admit he was wrong, and apologize so that I could have him back in my life, the silly little kid part that just can’t let go of hope. I’m not going to get what I want here, because what I want is impossible, but if I can seal this memory with one last kiss, I’ll take it with me for a lifetime.

  He’s so impossibly, stupidly handsome. Like a dream made real—like my dreams made real. And the way he hovers over me, eyes skimming across my face before lingering on my lips makes me think that maybe, just maybe, there’s more between us than he’s letting on during the day.

  He presses a gentle kiss to my lips before whispering, “I should go get cleaned up.”

  “Okay,” I say as he pulls away. And it feels like a light going on as realization hits. His face changes, like he’s realized just what happened between us and why that’s not a good thing.

  My stomach drops as I understand it too. God, what are we going to do now? Our attraction to each other is undeniable, but why would I want to be with someone who seems to be doing his best to keep me at a distance—hell, bullying me, even—in public. Why should I be content with someone who only wants me in secret?

  Connor finishes in the bathroom and then I head in and clean myself up. The evidence of what we’ve done is all over my body—flushed skin, bruised lips. I should feel thrilled, but all I feel is anxiety at what comes next.

  By the time I get out of the bathroom, Connor is gone, which shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. I tidy up the bed and sneak out of the room while trying to keep an eye open for any more drunk frat boys. Fortunately, I’m able to make it downstairs without an issue, but what I see waiting for me at the entrance is almost as bad as a drunk asshole.

  Connor is there, alright. And so is Ainsley. She stares at him adoringly as he chats with some of his friends before they both notice me walking down the stairs. I almost give him a smile but stop short at the expression on his face.

  If I thought things were going to be different between us, the look he gives me kills that thought before it can really take root in my heart. The memory of his kiss, the taste of his lips, the press of his hard body, and the shudder of pleasure that ran through me because of his touch is still fresh in my mind. And there he is, glaring at me like he can’t stand the sight of me, with Boho-Barbie hanging off of his arm.

  It meant nothing to him. Of course, it had. I was an idiot to think otherwise. He’d used me and dumped me aside, just like he always had. And I’d fallen for it, just like I always have, but I wasn’t going to let him see that he hurt me. No. Not this time, and certainly not ever again. I square my shoulders, stick my tits out, and smile like I’m a damn queen. And boys notice, do they ever.

  Whether it is my attitude shift or how far out my boobs are stuck, I get a lot of attention and it isn’t long before multiple boys—some of which are freshmen in college—are vying for my attention. And, on the outside, I am doing a good job of looking like I love it, on the inside I want to die.

  Back to the way things were… Back to never possible, and can’t be…

  I manage to keep from crying, but just barely. Connor O’Brien, the first boy I’ve been intimate with, just made me feel cheap and used. I lift my head and decide that no, I was the one who used him. And there’s nothing he can do to take that from me. The night carries on. I pretend to laugh and find random boys amusing, and then I leave with Kennedy and say nothing.

  It’s not until much later, when I’m alone in my bed, that I let myself cry. It doesn’t help that I should have known better, doesn’t matter that I did know better. It hurts all the same, and I take my moment and cry it out before promising that I’ll never, ever let Connor hurt me again.

  And I hope, this time, that I can keep my own promise.

  ******

  After the party and what happened between Connor and me, I just don’t know what to think. Things are pretty normal at school, and by that I mean the people who are assholes are still assholes to me, and my friends are still great.

  Connor pretends that I don’t exist, finally, but it doesn’t make me feel better at all. Ainsley and her groupies pretend like I murdered their families, and my teachers are increasingly annoyed with my shitty performanc
e in class.

  But what can I tell them? Sorry, I had to pick up some shifts at the theater because mom’s work isn’t going so well for her right now and we need to pay the bills? Yeah, I’m sure they’d give a shit about that.

  As it stands, my economics teacher, Mrs. Hopkins, seems to realize that there’s more going on in my life than I’m talking about, so she gives me an extension on my paper.

  I end up breaking things off with Michael. After what happened with Connor, it doesn’t feel right to keep pretending to be interested in him. And, to be honest, he seems kind of relieved with it all. I mean, I do break up with him, if it can even be called that, over text. But I guess it’s better than just ghosting him.

  I mindlessly throw myself into school, work, and try to forget that Connor left me high and dry before running right back to Ainsley. That part hurt the most. The look on her face as she clung to him.

  I just had that hand up my shirt, you bitch, I’d wanted to say. But I didn’t have the nerve. And it’s not like they would have believed me, anyway. He’d have laughed and lied to my face and I didn’t need that. Not anymore.

  It’s a week later that Connor finally texts me, which I leave on read and ignore. There’s no way I’m validating his behavior, not this time. To his credit, he doesn’t text me a million times until I listen. Just once a night, tells me he wants to talk, and once a night, I read his text and leave it.

  Until I finally reply. Either I want him to actually stop, or I’d like to talk to him again because I kind of miss our weird texting sessions that and… Well, I’ve been dreaming about him or, more accurately, I’ve been dreaming about what he did to me. Can’t stop thinking about it, really, no matter how much of an asshole he is.

  The way he’d touched me. The sound of his voice. The way he’d looked when he—yeah, I’ve been thinking of him, so I send back the only appropriate text that I can think of.

  Sadie: Piss off, Connor

  Connor: There’s my Princess. Talk to me. I need to explain everything

  Sadie: Everything? Like what?

  Connor: The truth. What I can tell you—what I know. I’m going to tell you

  That does get my attention.

  Sadie: When?

  Connor: Now

  Sadie: Really? It’s almost midnight!

  Connor: Now

  Sadie: ‘k

  I shoot off a short text and wait for him to call, but Connor does the last thing I expect, he shows up at my house near midnight and texts me from the outside. I didn’t even know he knew where I lived and I can’t believe he’s here now.

  Connor: Sadie. Come outside? Please

  Sadie: Seriously? If my mom catches me, I’ll be grounded for life

  Connor: I promise to make it worth it

  Sadie: I seriously doubt that, but I’ll be down just as soon as I can

  He’s waiting on my back porch when I get outside and I shush him when he starts to talk before whispering that we need to go for a walk.

  “My mom sleeps light. She’ll hear us.”

  Connor nods and lets me lead him from out back and onto the street. It’s raining. He asks me to get into his car and I decline. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it on my terms.

  “What the hell do you want?” I ask finally as he stands there, shuffling his feet while staring down at me like the words are magically going to come to him.

  He sighs. Connor looks really tired, like he hasn’t been sleeping, which makes me feel both better and worse. I want him to suffer, but I also don’t want him to suffer. Otherwise, his jeans are fashionably ripped, and his hoodie fits comfortably over his broad body. His dark hair falls into his eyes. He takes a step forward, stops, reaches out, pulls back.

  “Sadie… I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  He gestures around the both of us. “For this, for all of it. For Michael.”

  I glare up at him. I’m wet and freezing my ass off and we could be having this conversation in his car if I wasn’t so stubborn, but if I’m going to be miserable in the rain, so is he.

  “What about Michael? And how do you know about him, anyway?”

  “Ainsley. They’re friends. He was dating you for her. She wants to know what you are to me—so she can use it against you.”

  “What the fuck kind of bullshit is that?” I cry out. “What kind of town is this? I’m nobody, but because I knew you once, that means something? God, how insecure can she get?”

  I’m so angry, hand shaking as I ball them into fists. She’s not going to let this go, I realize. If I get closer to Connor, she’s only going to make things worse.

  “She’s always been jealous. Jealous that I wouldn’t date her because, honestly, I don’t like her but my parents love her and her family. So, that’s that,” he says like it’s settled.

  “So, you’re not going to do anything to stop her, then?” I ask, incredulous that he’s telling me all this, but doesn’t seem to want to do anything about it.

  “I can’t stop her. If I stop her, she’ll know that you mean something to me, and if you mean something to me, it’ll get back to…,” his words trail off, and I’ve had enough of this. Enough of the misdirection, the bullshit, and the secrets.

  “Get back to who? Look, I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with you, okay? Just leave me alone. I don’t need you playing head games with me. I do a good enough job of that on my own.”

  “I’m not… I don’t want this either, Sadie,” he growls.

  “Yeah, tell someone who cares. Look, I appreciate the make out session, or whatever, but I think I’ll just stick to guys who don’t want me to be miserable for now, ‘kay?”

  Somehow, in the midst of this conversation—more like argument—I’ve gotten closer to Connor. Really close. Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off of his broad body, close enough that his woodsy, masculine scent is muddling my senses. God, I hate him. Don’t I?

  “Okay, Sadie,” he says softly like he’s trying to calm me down or keep me from running away. I want to run away, want to run into his arms, want to do so many stupid things with the last person on the planet that deserves my attention.

  “Why, Connor?” It’s such a small question and he can answer it in so many ways. I want the truth—all of it, and I know I’m not going to get it.

  “Sometimes, we have to do things in life that we don’t want to.”

  “Bullshit. Every choice comes from within. You don’t have to choose to be this way!”

  In one quick movement, he grabs my hand and places it on his chest. I can feel every breath he takes, the quick rap of his heart against my palm. I don’t pull away, even though I should.

  He leans in close, breath mingling with mine as he assures me, “You don’t understand. And it’s better if you don’t. Some secrets are best left uncovered.”

  “That’s a nice excuse for being an asshole.”

  Connor gives his head a little shake as if he’s coming to his senses. “No, you’re right. I am an asshole for wanting more than what I deserve. You’re right. I have to let you go.”

  I swallow. It’s both what I want and also the last thing that I want. “Things could be so different if you were honest with me. This is your choice. I’m moving on.” Without you are the unspoken words that hang in the air between us.

  Connor gives me a tight nod and almost seems like he’s about to reach out and… what? But he doesn’t. He manages to restrain himself, hands balled into fists at his sides as he breathes deeply.

  “Good girl,” he says, and it sounds so sad I almost think he’s going to cry.

  “You’re right. I am good, but I’m not your girl. Goodbye, Connor. And when I say leave me alone this time, I mean it. No matter what.”

  He doesn’t follow me like normal, not this time. He lets me go. And it’s the longest, loneliest walk of my life as half of me feels like I’m making a huge mistake, and the other thinks I didn’t act soon enough.

  I get to
my door and make a fatal mistake, I look back and see him standing there, hopeless, shoulders curled, as he watches me while the rain pours. And I can’t take it. I make a snap decision, and one that I’m sure I’ll regret, but I turn and run back down my driveway and launch myself at him.

  Connor meets me halfway, wraps me in his arms, and holds me tight.

  “I can’t… I can’t do this,” he stammers, lips pressing against my neck.

  “Can’t do what?”

  “Stay away from you.”

  “Well, you don’t have much of a choice. I’m not good enough for you, remember?”

  “That was never the issue, Princess,” he assures me.

  “And what was the issue?”

  He swallows thickly around the mess of emotions that are threatening to bubble forth from his mouth. I wait and he finally says, “It’s my father. He doesn’t… He doesn’t want me to be anywhere near you.”

  “But why?”

  “Because he’s a controlling asshole and he’ll make both of our lives miserable if I don’t do what he wants.”

  I scoff. “Seriously? You’re going to blame this all on your dad?”

  “Because it’s the truth,” he cries angrily. “If I disobey him… there will be hell to pay.”

  That much I know is true. Connor’s dad has a famous temper, and he’d be the last person I’d want to cross, except why the hell should I let his dad determine how my life goes? It makes no sense!

  “But why does he hate me?”

  “He doesn’t hate you, he hates your family. Some ancient history, Sadie. I can’t get into it.”

  “So, even now, you’re not going to tell me the truth?”

  “I don’t know all of it, but the bits that I know—the truth would destroy both of us. Trust me.”

  “How can I? When you talk in circles? Push and pull me in opposite directions? When everything you are is one big puzzle to me?”

  “God, Sadie. I care about you!” he quietly insists. And I don’t fucking believe him.

  “After all you’ve done to me, after all the times you’ve pushed me away, you expect me to believe that you care about me? You hold me tight, you push me away with your words! Why?”