KING: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Elite Royal Academy Book 1)

by L. J. Woods

  Craig gives me the same look he gave me that night when I was in Nancy's strappy lingerie. He's cute, but again, this sweater over collared shirt combo has to go. I smile. "I’m with Isaac Johnson.”

  Craig's friends look like cheap knockoffs of him. All with collared shirts and sweaters, except for the one in a bowtie. When I thought the other side of the tracks couldn't get any stuffier than Eden, I meet these guys.

  He looks at the envelope in my hand, taking another sip of his drink. “I remember you. You're that sexy showstopper from the Eagles game."

  “Jo.” Fuck. I'm already regretting giving him my real name while I have a shitload of drugs in my hand.

  “Jo,” he repeats, his voice hanging before gesturing to the big red door with his glass. "Let's head inside."

  “Inside?”

  “You don’t expect me to open this up right out here do you?” Looking back at his friends he nods. “I’ll see you guys in a minute.”

  Bowtie smirks at us before I follow Craig inside the mansion.

  We don’t go far. There’s an office to the side of the sparkling front foyer and he leads me in, closing the door behind him. The bass from a hip-hop song vibrates the wood below me but the door muffles the sound. The smell of cigarettes and leather envelop me, wooden beams shining a light on us. On a leather loveseat sit blue signs that read “Carson 2020." I'm starting to piece together that this is Edwin’s competition.

  To ensure we don’t stay long, I hold out the envelope the minute Craig turns around.

  He seems taken aback but he smiles with straight, white teeth. “Right to business,” he says. “I like that.”

  I smile as he takes the envelope. He eyes me again, heading to the desk behind me before letting the contents out on the glass top. Pills clatter onto the surface. “Nice,” he says, bent over the table, looking at a pill like a lab result. “All M?”

  “Yep.” My eyes wander around the white and brown room, a deer head behind the desk.

  Craig turns around, his palm out to me, two pills inside. “Well then, to new relationships.”

  “Uh…”

  My hesitation makes him hesitate. “What’s wrong with it?” Craig looks down at the pills in his palm.

  “Nothing! I don’t, y’know, get high on my own supply.” Fuck I sound nervous. I take a deep breath. It’s not like I haven’t tried MDMA before but getting on the love drug with a stranger in a random mansion might not be the best idea.

  “You expect me to buy a bunch of pills you won’t even try? How am I supposed to trust you as a supplier?”

  “I don’t know, do a test or something.” I shrug.

  “Alright, well, I’m not buying if you’re not trying.” He closes his palm and turns around. "There's a lot of sketchy shit happening with my dad running for mayor. I’m not taking the risk."

  Craig shovels the mess of pills back into the bag. As he does, I’m watching that seven-hundred dollars go down the drain with it.

  “Okay fine,” I say. Fuck it. What’s a pill? Nothing I haven’t tried before. And if it’s worth seven-hundred dollars, why not? “Bring it back. But, you’re doing it with me.”

  He turns around with a smile. “Well alright then." Holding out a pill, he tilts his chin to the ceiling. "Open up, gorgeous.”

  Ignoring the nickname, I stick my tongue out the same way I did with Zane when we tried it together. I could hold it under my tongue or in my cheek until I’m out of sight, but Craig’s not playing games. He opens his mouth wide to show me it’s gone and waits for me to do the same.

  I swallow before sticking out my tongue and he laughs, clapping. “Glad to be doing business with you.” Craig sits in the modern brown chair behind the glass desk. He turns around to the large built-in shelf behind him and I hear the pull of a mini-fridge.

  Grateful this is all over, I turn to the door, wanting to get back to the guys before this thing settles in. I trust Isaac that this is all okay. That the pill I took isn’t anything else or that this isn’t some big ploy to seek revenge on the rival school. But I rather not be here when things start to feel fuzzy.

  Craig calls to me when my hand touches the gold doorknob, “Drink?”

  I open the door, pointing out of it as I turn around, music bellowing in. He has a couple of beers in his hand but I shake my head. “Thanks, but I’ve gotta go.”

  “Go?” He sits up in the office chair. “No, you're staying with me for at least thirty minutes to see if this shit even kicks in.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, how am I supposed to know you didn’t sell me a bunch of placebos? Or poison?” He gets up from his chair and walks towards me, wrapping an arm around me with more oomph than I expected. He hands me a beer. “Relax. Chill out. It’s a party after all.”

  He leads me back outside to where his friends are waiting. They smile when they see us coming and bowtie asks, “How is it?”

  Craig flops down on the outdoor sofa. “I guess we’ll see. Won’t we?” He looks at me and bites his bottom lip before gesturing to the seat next to him.

  I try to look down the driveway but I can’t see Isaac’s Rover at the bottom of the hill. I sit before I turn to him, cracking the cap off the beer. “Thirty minutes,” I say.

  Craig clinks our glasses together before he leans back in his seat. He spreads his arms across the sofa, a smile on his face. “Thirty minutes and we’re having fun..”

  My skin tingles and my brain feels like it's getting a massage. There’s a stupid smile on my face and Craig looks hotter than when I came in. Much hotter. There's a chance I misjudged his sweater combo.

  Craig babbles about how great it felt to be in the ocean during his last trip to Bali while his friends drink. They hang on to his every word and it's clear he’s the Damien of Ancaster. He’s not saying much but it feels like everyone else is too afraid to speak.

  The music switches to some drum and bass. As Craig rambles on I’m bopping my head, my eyes on the bright orange coming off the hanging outdoor lanterns.

  The bass drops, and I follow the urge to stand to my feet and sway my hips to the rhythm. Closing my eyes, my chin lifts to the sky, the night air making the tingles on my skin all the better. It's fresh, crisp with a hint of soggy leaves. It makes me giggle and I don’t notice that Craig’s friends are gone until he startles me out of my dancing daze.

  “Damn girl." His auburn eyes follow my movements and it’s like they’re glowing. "You look good when you do that.”

  “Did it kick in for you?” I ask, slowing down my movements with the beat. I’m one with the music. “Cause it sure as hell kicked in for me.”

  Craig scratches the back of his neck. “I’m not sure.” With the way he’s rambling and the way he's touching the sofa cushions, I’m sure he's rolling. But since he’s the client, he’s got to be sure too.

  “Come here.” I hold out my hand, my hips still moving whether I want them to or not. He takes it and I pull him up to where I’m standing. His hand is warm, albeit a little clammy. “Move with me,” I say. He starts swaying from side to side and when he finds a rhythm, he starts moving his feet with mine. “Now, close your eyes.” After he does, I do it with him, remembering the words Zane asked me. “Do you feel the music? The tingles? The buzz?”

  “I think so,” his voice intertwines with the melody.

  “Breathe, find the beat and move with it,” I say. “When you do, it feels amazing.”

  “You feel amazing,” I open my eyes to see Craig closer to me than I remember. He has this halo around his head and his pupils are massive. His hands are on my hips, one lowering while the other’s going higher. My skin feels like it's sparkling with every inch of his movement and I’m mesmerized by his gaze. His lips part, “Want to seal this deal gorgeous?”

  “Craig,” is all I can manage to say before I shake my head, attempting to push him away. “You’re beautiful…but I—”

  “You’re right,” he says. “This shit is great. Let me thank you for it, t
hen the money’s all yours.” He’s moving closer and with the promise of money, I’m frozen in place, too many emotions swirling around my head, my body…

  “Well if it isn’t Craig Carson.” Damien’s voice startles me.

  It seems to startle Craig too because he lets go of my waist and I tumble back.

  Damien's hands are in his pocket and while he looks calm, I’ve been around him enough to know better. He eyes Craig with narrow eyes. “Didn’t take you for a date-rapist."

  “I didn’t rape her!” He backs away before looking around, but the patio’s empty. Craig lowers his voice, “She sold me drugs.”

  “Which you then used to manipulate her into whatever pathetic attempt this is,” Damien gestures towards us like he’s swirling a glass of wine.

  “What are you even doing here King?” Craig stands up straight, approaching Damien. “Mad your girlfriend rather get high with me than trot around with you in your excuse for a kingdom?”

  “Unless you want your father’s campaign fucked to shit you need to pay her and tend to your party.” Damien squares up with him. “A video of his son fucked on MDMA while he hits on a slut from The Grove would look great on the campaign trail.”

  Craig stares Damien down, hesitating before he reaches into his pocket, throwing a wad of cash at me. It hits my chest before falling to the floor, money clip keeping it together. “Whatever man. This shit isn't worth it."

  When Craig heads inside, Damien starts walking away without another look at me. I call out, “Hey, wait.”

  Isaac’s Range Rover is at the top of the driveway now but I’m too slow to catch up to Damien. He gets into the front seat and I reach to get inside, but the door doesn’t open. I knock on the glass but his front window comes down instead, Damien’s eyes glaring at me.

  “What are you doing?” I pull on the door again. “Let me in. I made the drop.”

  “After you got high and whored yourself out for it,” there's disgust in Damien's voice and it rips through my stomach.

  “I had to take it!” My fist hits the window. “He wouldn’t have bought it otherwise!”

  “Why don’t you walk home and take that stroll to figure out how to be smarter next time.” He rolls the window up and I slam on it again but it’s no use.

  They’re driving away.

  Twenty-One

  Damien King disappoints again.

  I’m walking down a dirt road, shoes in my hand, gravel digging into my feet. The moonlight guides my solo night walk, chill keeping goosebumps on my arms.

  I waited for Damien to come back. When he didn’t, I tried to get back inside the mansion to use a phone, but Craig was way too pissed to help.

  So I rolled around the grass, waiting for the initial peak to wear off. When Damien still didn’t show up, I decided it was time to walk.

  I don’t know who I’m mad at— Damien for putting me in this situation or myself for agreeing to it. What did it all get me? Alone in Ancaster on a chilly night while I battle a molly high.

  At least Isaac is honest. This isn’t the stuff from The Grove. I’ve been high for hours and I’m still buzzing.

  The crunch of a twig comes from ahead, headlights appearing in front of me. I haven’t seen a car in ages so I take my chances and stick out my thumb.

  When I see the moonlight reflect off the chrome paint, I’m sorry I did.

  Damien’s Lamborghini slows, window rolling down with it. “Get in,” he says.

  My hands ball into fists at his casual tone, like he didn’t just leave me stranded. “Fuck you,” I spit.

  “Get in, Joelle.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Damien.”

  He hits the brakes and opens the door, and I almost bump into it. I try to walk around it but he keeps up with me. Warmth billows out of the car, along with the smell of leather and the damn good smell of Damien. “Leave me alone,” I say, my arms crossed in front of me like a brat. “You’re good at that.”

  “If I leave, I’m not coming back.”

  I look at the passenger's seat, warm and inviting and it's not like I have other options. My eyes on the night sky I yell a frustrated, “Fuck!”

  When I climb in, he covers me with a warm blanket before I close the door. It smells like him. Mint. Pine. Weed. It’s a comfort I never expected.

  "You asshole!" I give him no time to speak. “Why did you do that? You left me for hours!”

  “We only left twenty minutes ago.” He’s pulling to the side of the road as I glance at the clock on the dash. He’s right. Not much time has gone by at all. Isaac’s shit is potent as hell.

  “Still, you left me." The way he’s staring at me as I speak makes me want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. He's leaning back in his seat, flipping through the radio as hair falls in his eye. I keep going, "The timing isn’t the problem. It’s the fact that you did it at all."

  "I'm sorry." Damien’s head falls against his seat, turning to me.

  I'm about to speak but his words stop me. Did Damien apologize?

  The flutters are flying wild in my stomach when I sigh, “What the fuck are we even doing? It’s like you get off on torturing me.”

  Damien leans in, staring into my eyes. “You're still high."

  “I…” He glances at my hands and I don't realize I’ve been rubbing the leather on the seat. It’s so smooth. A good distraction as I spoke. He glides a finger up my cold arm and it sends heat flooding through my entire body.

  “Jo.” He leans in, eyes dropping to my lips before he cups my face in his palm. It’s a tender touch, one I’m not used to. “I’m sorry I left you.”

  His soft touch is almost startling. “Why’d you do it?” I'm lost in his gaze again, his eyes shimmering in the moonlight.

  “I told you.” He brushes his thumb along my bottom lip. “You’re mine and I don't share."

  “Is that something you’re willing to share with the rest of the community?”

  He smirks, “For now, I’m going to make sure you know how sorry I am.”

  Damien kisses me and before I know it, I’m straddling him in the driver’s seat. I know I'm rolling but his kisses feel more explosive than ever. Deeper. Needier.

  He’s pulling down my dress and I’m bracing the ceiling as he swirls his tongue on my nipples. The sensation makes my entire body shiver.

  “I’m about to make you enjoy every bit of this high,” he growls, his hands digging into the soft skin of my ass and I’m grinding against his hardness. He pulls the back of my thong to the side and that’s when there's a finger against my little hole.

  I gasp but it only makes him smirk, and when he starts moving his finger in circles it feels incredible. “Oh my god,” I sigh. The pleasure from his touch flows through me like waves. Damien King has experience but it feels too good to think about. I moan against his face when his finger enters a smidge. He pushes in further but I stop him. “Wait. I—”

  He chuckles, raising a dark eyebrow. “Really? Never?”

  I shake my head, wondering if I have the look of a girl experienced with anal sex.

  Damien smirks, pulling me closer by the back of my hair. “Well, we need to fix that. But for now…" He unzips the opening of his jeans, his cock a raging beast when it springs out. "For now I have an apology to make." Damien strokes his shaft between us as he places my hand on my clit. He starts me off, moving my hand in circles and the look in his eyes as he watches me makes me want him more.

  "That pussy is prettier than I ever imagined, Jo," he says, his voice deep and husky as he reaches in the console for a condom.

  I stop moving my fingers, watching as he rolls the latex over his cock, smirking. "You thought about it?"

  "I'll tell you a secret." He lifts my hips, guiding me onto him. I'm already wet. Already want him so damn bad. And when he pushes inside me I remember why. "I wanted a piece of you the minute you set foot in Eden."

  His grip is hard on my waist, giving me no time to answer. Every thrust unravels me bit by
bit, his strong arms around me. His hold is firm. Possessive. And when he sinks his teeth into the skin on my shoulder, it's like he's marking me for his own. Claiming me as his.

  I'm free to moan as loud as I want, our movements shaking his car like a virtual-reality ride. But this is real. Every throb. Every thrust. Our body heat. The steam on the windows.

  I'm fucking Damien King. Again. And it feels amazing.

  My thighs tighten against him, my body like I'm floating through the stars.

  His breath is in my ear, "Come for me, Jo."

  It sends that rushing feeling to my core and as if on demand, my back arches, hitting the wheel.

  BEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

  The horn sounds, blending with my scream but it's too good to care. Damien doesn't care either, his thrusts get quicker, body tensing. My cry rings through the car as he pulses deep inside me. It's not until his arm lifts me off that it stops, body writhing in response.

  "Jesus, Rowland,” he says, a hand coming to my mouth. But as Damien looks around I can't help but break out into giggles. His eyebrow arches before he's chuckling too, our heads pressed against each other.

  I'm on cloud nine and fuck, Damien is to blame. But if I know Damien King, I know it's only a matter of time until it all comes crashing down.

  All three of the Kings are at the car before Henry can open the door the next school morning.

  “Hey, Jo.” Isaac’s head peeps in before he looks at Willow. “Little Jo.”

  Willow looks at me as he opens the door wide. I shrug in response as he lends a hand for her to hold.

  When I get out, Lea and her group of Trust Fund Trolls are watching as we do. She has a glare of death on her face but my sister’s giggling and that’s all that matters.

  “Ladies.” Damien gives my sister a single rose and I can hear her friends swooning nearby. If he’s trying to win extra brownie points by being nice to my little sister, it’s working.