by L. J. Woods
The boys are vicious on the ice and I learn why they’re called the Big Bad Eagles. They put up a fight but by the third period, they’re down by one. Damien doesn’t strike me as the big sporty type but he’s playing hard. So hard he gets checked and flattened on his back when he tries to make it to the net with five minutes to spare.
His helmet hits the ground, black hair sweaty and tousled. It’s up to Luca to make the shot but he misses the goal, sending the puck flying into the bleachers. Once the whistle is blown, Damien charges the guy who checked him. Number Twenty-Two. When he takes his helmet off, I realize it’s one of the guys who saw the show outside, hooting and hollering.
Luca approaches him from behind, pulling him away as the referee blows hard on his whistle. The crowd cheers and I too am on my feet. Damien swings away while Luca pulls him back on the ice. Damien lets up, causing Luca to let go, but the minute he does, he’s wailing on this guy again.
It takes both referees and two other guys to pull Damien off. When Number Twenty-Two gets up, there’s blood all over his jersey and the crowd lets out a collective, "Oooh!"
I can’t tell what’s going on but the referee is pointing to the exit and Damien spits on the ground before skating away.
He doesn’t come back for the rest of the game, The Eagles losing 2-1.
“Bummer,” Nate sighs when the final horn goes off. He looks at us, not fazed at all. “Drinks and pizza?” His breath stinks of alcohol but so does mine. “A lot of the students like to head to Emilio’s after games. There’s usually an afterparty but with the way Damien played, I doubt it’ll be any fun.”
I look down at my bare legs. “Nah, I should get home. I’ve had enough attention for one night.”
“Nonsense!” Allie's hand lands on my shoulder, Christian's jersey still on my frame. “Today you had a victory! Let's keep celebrating! There's an Emilio’s Margherita with your name on it.”
Looking up at her, the room blurs. I squint. "It feels like I've already had enough to drink."
"She means pizza babe." Nate pats my back. "We could both use some."
Lea’s walking down the steps behind Allie and she glares my way. It looks like she’s about to say something when Beth speaks up, “Did we hear something about Emilios? We’ll save you a seat so you can tell us where you got that sexy little number.”
Lea's jaw drops, her glare now on Beth.
“I guess it’s settled!” Allie looks at Beth before turning her eyes back to me. “Emilio’s it is.”
“Ugh, whatever,” Georgina pipes up. “That set is from last year’s line.”
This helps Lea find her voice, “And you look fat in it!"
Beth rolls her eyes without looking at her friends. “Meet you there. Georgey are you coming?”
“Yeah.” Despite her remarks, Georgina agrees.
Lea scoffs as Beth walks down the stairs. She gives me one final glare before tugging on Georgina’s arm with clenched teeth. “Emilio’s has vermin. We’re going to MOCHA!" They walk away, Lea grilling Georgina the entire time.
Nate brushes imaginary crumbs on Christian’s jersey. He straightens it out like a proud parent. “At least you got Beth on your side. That’s worth some respect from the Supremes, even if it isn’t Lea’s but, fuck her.”
I catch Allie looking over her shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll meet you guys by the car. Gotta use the bathroom.”
She heads down the stairs before we can even respond. That's when it hits me. The whiskey that is. “Shit, I gotta go too.”
“Catch up with Allie.” Nate urges me along and I’m halfway down the steps before he calls out, “I’ll be by the car!”
When I’m back at the main entrance of the building, I’m relieved to see Allie. She's headed outside but I stop in my tracks when I see who’s next to her.
Lea.
Allie looks behind her in the opposite direction before they make their way out the door. Forgetting about my bladder, I’m more concerned with what Allie has to say to ERA’s queen bitch.
With enough distance between us, I follow them across the garden and back into the school. I’m in the boy’s locker room hallway. The one I walked down with the mural of The Eagles. Allie and Lea are at the end and they're whispering to each other.
I'm not even watching where I'm going as I creep closer, steadying my whiskey-breath. Allie leans in and I can't tell if they're about to fight or…
Holy shit.
My hand comes to my mouth, the other on the wall of whatever door I've ducked behind. Blinking my eyes I confirm what I’m seeing.
Allie’s leaning in for a kiss!
Lea backs away and when she glances behind her, I duck behind the wall. After a few seconds, I peek around again.
They’re gone.
Shit.
My finger taps against my cheek, pacing back and forth in a room with green lockers, a complicated equation in my mind.
Are Allie and Lea together? I thought she was with Damien.
Wait, are they working together? But why?
A giggle that sounds like Lea's echoes down the hall but before I can follow it, the lights flicker above me.
The room goes dark, “The fuck…”
As I’m taking a deep breath a voice startles me, “What are you doing here?”
It’s a voice I recognize all too well. It comes from behind and when I turn around, a light flickers on the devil’s face.
Fifteen
“Who the fuck do you think you are? Batman?”
A few more lights flicker on and my body stiffens.
Damien stands in front of me in a white towel around his waist. One of the fluorescent bulbs above highlights lines of water trickling down his body and it’s hard not to stare.
There’s a gulp in my throat watching droplets drip off his tight pecs. His washboard abs. That sexy ‘V’ cut below his waist. It’s like glaze rolling off a donut. A very muscular, sinister donut.
“Does Batman make you as horny for him as you are for me?" He lets out a chuckle but it's matched with a mean smirk. "Because we can roleplay."
There's another tattoo below his heart, a withering rose. My blurry eyes follow the stem to a thin stream of water. It leads to a patch of hair where the towel begins and I hope he doesn't catch the nibble of my lip. My heartbeat picks up and my palms are a little sweaty. That doesn't mean I'm intimidated by Damien King. Or turned on.
He walks towards me smelling like pine. It's crisp. Like he's fresh out of the shower. I know he's about to get in my face. I've been here enough to know the signs. A steady pace, a low voice, but I'm quicker this time.
Moving around him, I'm further away from the door but at least I'm not trapped. "What are you roleplaying as this time? A bully or a psychopath?" Taking a couple steps back, I stumble and he raises a brow.
“Are you drunk, Rowland?” His damp hair swoops over his blue eye, grey one bright and exposed. He approaches me again. “Is that why you’re here making a scene, kissing my friends—”
“Telling your girlfriend where to shove it." I stand my ground.
Damien doesn't back down either. His bare chest presses against my body and I try to push back but it’s no use. His weight is too heavy, body too stiff. I don’t notice where he’s headed until my back meets a cold wall. There's green tile on either side, a curtain behind Damien.
It's only now I realize I've wandered into the boy's locker room. Right into the King’s domain. The thought of his teammates finding me in a shower with Damien comes to my mind, but I'm too tipsy to care. I'm not backing down. Not after today's victory.
He brings his hand to the wall on either side of my head. My breath is short, stomach queasy and I'm not sure if it's him or the alcohol.
“Lea’s not my girlfriend.” He looks down at me. “But you wouldn’t be able to put that together with your tongue down Luca’s throat.”
So he did see.
“Wait.” I tilt my head to the side, a victorious smirk pulling at my lips
. The way his nostrils flare when he mentions Luca gives him away. “Are you jealous?”
He smiles before he lets out a deep chuckle. It gets louder and I wince as his laughter turns into one fit for a maniac. His deep voice echoes against the walls, “Jealous? Of a whore from The Grove?”
“And you’re a rich kid with mommy issues and an abusive father.” I match his stare. “How clich—”
A cold hand comes around my neck before I finish my sentence. He brings his lips an inch from mine. “You don't know my life, Medusa.” His eyes drop to my lips and even with his hands around my throat, I remember what it feels like to kiss him.
Warm. Like a fire burning through me.
And it makes me damn near breathless.
"You like this." Blame the whiskey or the adrenaline but the words fall out of my mouth and I don't stop them. “You like fucking with me. It's like foreplay to you. Does it get you off, you twisted fuck?"
"It might." The fact that he doesn't deny it doesn't make it better. Does it? Damien moves his hand from my neck under my chin, tilting my forehead towards the ceiling. His breath lands on my ear, “Bet you're nothing the entire Grove hasn’t felt before. Sorry Medusa, I don't take sloppy seconds.”
“You know I'm not that, and you know I'm not like the other girls here and you like it.” I attempt to smirk, cheeks squished in his hold. Damien can have any girl in this school. I see the way they look at him. I know how hard Lea fights for him but still, he’s always after me. “I bet you think about getting me like this all the time."
A cold finger brushes up my thigh, lifting the fabric of Christian’s jersey. “I don’t think about you at all, Medusa.”
“Bullshit.”
“Why?” He's in my face again with narrow eyes. “Are you thinking of me?”
“No,” I snort, ready to tell him where to shove it. But before I can, his lips are on mine.
All my thoughts turn to mush, my legs feeling like noodles. Damien's lips are soft. Warm. So fucking satisfying. Like a warm blanket on a cold day.
The taste of peppermint washes over my buds and the room disappears from around us. A cold hand sends goosebumps to my thighs, a finger moving between my legs. My cheeks are warm, his touch electrifying. It's like I've forgotten that I’m kissing the ass that is Damien because it's easy to part my legs for him.
Closing my eyes, my head falls against the tile when he moves a finger between my slit. He’s slow, using gentle movements that contrast his exterior. Every movement of his touch makes me feel undone. Every swirl of his finger has me craving for more.
When I sigh against his lips he pulls away from my mouth, a loose grip on my neck, "You sure you don't think about me?" Ignoring his words my head moves closer, wanting to feel his lips again but he doesn't let me. “You’re fucking wet Joelle. So I call bullshit too."
Hearing my name, the l’s rolling off his tongue makes me buck against his fingers but he chuckles, pulling them away. He pulls them up my thigh before dragging them to my navel. His eyes drop to my chest, the smirk fading. “Didn’t know you were a part of the team.”
“It’s Christi—”
“Take it off.”
“Want another look?” Feeling proud of my little stunt earlier, I pull the jersey off, throwing it to the wet, tiled floor. The minute it makes a floof on the ground Damien pulls my hands above my head.
He reaches for the large strap covering my tits, pulling it down with two fingers. Cold air and desire already have them puckered, nipples erect towards him. I bite my lip when he pulls on the tip, the graze of his thumb sending a rippling tingle through me.
His lips catch my moan and I don’t know what game we’re playing but there’s something about his kisses I can’t seem to get enough of. I can’t tell if this is how he treats all his new prey, but right now, all I want is to taste him. He’s making me forget about Zane, the Archibalds and Lea. It’s like all the stunts he pulled don’t matter now.
“You seem a little heated," his growl is husky in my ear, finger stroking my slick pearl. “Let me cool you off.” Cold water comes out of the showerhead above. “You think the homecoming game is your personal slutty fashion show?” He pushes a finger inside me, his grip tightening around my wrists and my whole body is on fire.
The burn of his entry is quick to disappear as he pushes his finger all the way in. It hits my wall and I can’t help but moan, “Damien.”
He keeps my arms above my head, another finger between my legs. “It’s King.” That finger pushes inside me, his palm pressed against my clit. He pumps his fingers fast, my legs already shaking. I try to move my hands but Damien’s grip tightens and he picks up his pace. It feels too good and I'm damn near seeing stars. His fingers are hitting my spot again and again and if he doesn’t stop…
“Damien I-I’m…” I'm not sure if I'm trying to warn him or myself. I’m in shock but I don’t want it to end. I close my eyes, his fingers driving me right to the edge.
Then he stops.
When I open my eyes, there's a smirk on his face, his eyes droopy, face sweaty, cheeks rosy. It's a look of lust, and it only makes him sexier. “Ah ah. Keep those eyes on me.” His tongue lands between his teeth.
I do, but the pause in action makes me feel a wave of confusion. My world is a haze, “Damien…”
He doesn’t give me a chance to finish. He moves his fingers faster. Harder. Deeper. “No one sees you like this but me. You understand?”
“Wh-what?”
He keeps his pace, eyes on me as he repeats himself slower, “No one sees you like this, but me.” He’s looking into my eyes like we’re signing a deal. Like this is a contract to how good his fingers feel right now. But before I can answer, his fingers curl and I crumble.
A loud moan escapes my lips but his hand comes to my mouth, leaving my wrists. A wave of flutters move through me and the space becomes foggy. Catching the look in Damien’s eyes almost makes me fall to my knees, but he holds me in place. His body presses against me and I can feel he’s rock hard and this time, it's throbbing.
I’m gasping for air when he releases me and when he takes a step back, he smirks, turning off the shower. He swoops a hand through his dark, slick hair, “I’ll take that as a yes.” I can hardly speak as he reaches down and picks up Christian’s jersey. “And I’ll make sure this gets back to its rightful owner.” He turns around, looking over his shoulder. “Clean yourself up, Jo.”
“Wait!” I’m wet, standing in the shower with nothing on but lingerie and my soaking boots. My post-orgasm glow starts to disappear, along with the warmth in the room as I watch Damien disappear around a corner. I call out, “What the fuck am I going to wear?”
No answer. I’m stupid for expecting him to come back. After about fifteen minutes standing in the cold shower, hair damp on my skin, I leave to find the locker room empty.
Fuck.
I straighten the straps on the lingerie and it’s only on my way out that I find a towel on a wooden bench. Wrapping it around my waist, I realize I have no idea how long I’ve been gone. I need to find my friends.
“Jo?”
When I leave the locker room, Allie's turning a corner. She looks at me with raised eyebrows, her eyes going over my hair to the towel. Her hair and outfit look more rumpled than when I last saw her but I’m not in any position to be asking questions.
“There you are!” I slap a smile on my face. If I act like everything’s normal she won’t ask any questions.
She looks behind me, eyebrows lowering. “Did you take a shower in the boy’s locker room?”
I turn around, feigning surprise. “Oh! Was that the boys'? God, I’m still getting used to this place.”
“Why are you taking a shower anyway?”
“Uh…” I stall. Quick, Jo. Think faster. I rack my brain for something. Anything. I'm not ready to come to terms with what happened which means I'm not about to tell Allie. “Spilled whiskey all over me. Where were you?”
“Umm…” No
w she’s stalling and it's like we're both caught on a walk of shame neither of us wants to talk about. “Forgot something in my locker. I guess I’ll be taking you home?” She smiles, avoiding spilling her secrets.
I nod as we both start walking down the hall, my wet boots squeaking on the shiny hardwood as we go. To be honest, I’m relieved Emilio’s is out of the question. I don't want to face any of the Dicks after what just happened. Especially Damien.
Damien is in my mind the whole way home. Things are less blurry, my head less of a fuzz. That means I’m sobering up. Nancy and Eric are out in the garden when I get back to the mansion so I skip to my room and head straight for the shower.
By the time I get out, there’s a text on my phone, the screen lighting up on my bed. I’m hoping it's Willow texting me goodnight but when I get to where it sits, I realize it’s from “Unknown.”
My heart skips a beat, my stomach like it's on the ocean. I still haven’t saved his number but I already know who it's from.
Unknown: Learn your lesson? Or do I need to make you come again?
I delete the message without reading it over, not wanting anyone to see it. Not even me.
I can’t believe what Damien and I did in the boy's locker room. No one’s ever made me feel like that or ever treated me that way. Not while doing…that.
The images of the evening replay in my mind when I climb into bed. With a few deep breaths, I try to push it away and get to sleep.
Lying there, his words float around, the feeling still fresh on my skin. I toss and turn but I can’t fight it.
Damien King is in my head.
Sixteen
No one gets to see you like this but me.
Damien's words are the first things on my mind when my eyes open the next morning.
They won’t leave my head, along with the memories of last night. The tingles from his fingers stain my legs. Thoughts of his kisses still make me clench my bare thighs.