by Nicole Fox
If anything, it only makes her more desirable.
Everyone wants to be the guy to lay claim to the innocent girl. If cash wasn’t an option, there’d be a full-out brawl for her.
The only problem is, Lily isn’t innocent. I’ve already soiled her in so many ways … but whoever wins her now, they are going to have her in ways I haven’t yet. In ways I ache to have her.
The thought feels like a shard of glass working itself into my skin.
The price is nearing four digits, far higher than anyone else paid, and Caleb thinks he is going to win. I can see it in the smug smile on his face and the way his eyes scan over Lily’s outline. He is imagining what he is going to do with her once she is his.
Lily still won’t lift her face.
She walked up there strutting and haughty. Thought she could take control of whatever this thing is that’s forming between us.
But now she looks small and terrified, the way she did on the floor of the locker room after Cora slapped her. The way she did standing in front of me after she found Dallas dead.
I should hate her for her weakness. If she were anyone else, I would. I’d be done with them by now.
My father raised me to abhor weakness. To sacrifice the weakest links in favor of the strong.
If you spend all of your time saving the underdog, you’ll never become the leader of the pack.
I hear my father’s voice in my head, but for the first time, I don’t give a fuck about him or his plan or his reputation. Or even mine.
Fuck it all.
I want Lily DeVry.
Before I have any real understanding of what I’m doing, I’m crossing the room, pushing guys out of my way to get to the bench.
I walk up to Lily and hold out my hand much like I did outside the stadium. I offer it to her.
She studies me. Unsure. Assessing.
“What are you doing?” Caleb asks, trying to nudge me aside. “I’m still bidding.”
Without looking away from Lily, I address him. “Not anymore.”
Relief floods Lily’s face. I want to get her away from the heavy gazes in this room. I want to take her someplace quiet and …
Just as Lily is reaching for my hand, I’m knocked sideways.
I stumble into Caleb, who falls to the floor, cursing all the while, and I turn and face the attacker—Rufus Darnell. He is our running back, and we mockingly refer to him as Rufus the Doofus.
Because he is an idiot.
As is evidenced by the fact that he wants to get into a fight with me.
“Don’t be an idiot, Rufus.”
“You’re a cheat,” he spits, jabbing his finger into my face. “You bring her here, she no longer belongs to you. Rules is rules.”
“I don’t belong to anyone!” Lily shouts.
I turn and step between Rufus and Lily. “You weren’t going to win the auction, anyway.”
Rufus ignores us both and pushes a hand into my chest. “Stand back and let the bidding continue.”
I do not have time for this shit. The voices in my own head are already roaring. The last thing I need is one more voice telling me what to do and muddying my thoughts.
My closed fist connects with his cheekbone before he can defend himself. I use his shock to my advantage and uppercut with my other hand.
Blood pours from his mouth and nose, but he recovers quickly and rears his arm back, ready to fight. Just before he can start swinging, however, Caleb pushes me aside and jumps into the action.
He should be pissed at me for ruining auction night for him, but this fight probably makes up for it. Nothing makes Caleb happier than getting to pummel someone into a pulp.
Three hits later, Rufus is on the ground.
After four, he is out cold.
When I offer my hand again, Lily accepts it readily.
Everyone watches us leave, but no one says anything else.
Neither do we. Not for the entire drive home. The time for words is behind us.
It’s time to claim what I’ve been waiting far too long to make mine.
24
Finn
“Where’s your dad?”
It’s the first time either of us have spoken in nearing fifteen minutes, and it forces me to confront the reality of what I’m doing.
Bringing Lily back to my house. To my room.
To fuck her.
What in the hell am I doing?
“Not here,” I assure her. And myself. “He has a standing date with a fuck buddy every Saturday.”
The woman is a doctor or something. Too busy to date but horny enough to mess around with my dad once a week. It’s a good arrangement. At one time, I admired it, wondering if I’d settle into something similar in the future.
Now, I wonder if one night a week could ever be enough.
I have my answer now: fuck no.
At least, not if the woman is Lily.
The house is silent and tidy—much different than the last time Lily was here for the party—and she stops to admire some of the décor. I can tell she is stalling, nervous to go up to my room.
“Do you want a drink?” I point to the liquor cabinet, and she nods.
I don’t make drinks. I take shots, and I drink to get drunk. So I pour a few fingers of whiskey in a glass, take a long drink, and then hand it to her. She winces as the liquid burns down her throat but doesn’t complain.
“Who is this?”
I follow her finger to the picture hidden in the corner of a built-in bookshelf. It is small and in a simple wooden frame.
But it’s nothing more than proof my father can point to when I try to tell him he has forgotten about the rest of our family.
“My mom and sister.”
We don’t talk about them anymore. It’s easy since there are almost no memories of them in this house. Our family home burnt to the ground with them inside. I barely made it out alive.
“Where are they now?” she asks.
Conveniently, Dad already had the plans for the new house drawn up. We moved into our modern castle a mere six months later. The small picture is the only thing that remains from our former life as a family of four. When I move out, I’m sure my dad will get rid of it.
“They died.”
Her brow pulls together. “I’m so sorry. How?”
I shake my head, not wanting to talk about it. Not knowing how, honestly. After so many years of pushing the subject down, it’s easier to just ignore it than to dive deep. Especially since I’m afraid of what I’ll find at the bottom.
“I get it,” she says, taking another sip of the whiskey. “My dad died, and I don’t want to talk about it ninety-eight percent of the time. That’s why I go to therapy.”
“Wow.”
“What?” she asks, turning back to me, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“You really are fucked up if you go to therapy.”
I expect her to retort, but instead, she smiles sadly. “That’s me. Diagnosably fucked up since 2014.”
We fall into a tense lull. Lily clutches her glass with both hands, running her thumbs over the condensation accumulated on the sides.
Finally, she looks up at me. “Why did you save me?”
“I didn’t save you.”
Her brows crease in confusion. “Yes, you did. You got me out of that auction—”
“After I put you in it,” I snap. “Or maybe you don’t remember that part?”
She pinches her lower lip between her teeth. “Oh, I remember.”
“Good.
I’m supposed to be drawing Lily in, but I can’t. For reasons I don’t understand, I want to save her.
Even if what I’m saving her from is me.
“Don’t be confused, Lily. I’m not the good guy, okay? I’m not your white fucking knight in white fucking armor. I’m the bad guy.”
She licks her pouty lower lip and levels her warm brown eyes on mine. As much as I try to resist it, I can feel them melting me from the inside out
.
“Did you hurt Dallas Martin?”
The image of Dallas, slumped at the bottom of the staircase after falling, flashes in my mind.
I blink it away.
“I’m not an idiot,” she continues. “I know me telling the police won’t mean shit. You and your dad own this town, and I’m not looking to get caught up in something this big when I have less than a year left in this town. I just want to get out of here with my life intact. But that involves not spending time with people who hurt people. So, if you hurt him, if you’re the one who put him in the hospital… I need to know.”
Once again, it shouldn’t matter what Lily thinks of me. But I hate that I can see the fear in her eyes right now. I want her to understand the worst parts of me, but only if they’re true.
Even batshit crazier, I’m not telling Lily the truth to scare her away the way I do most people. I don’t want her to run or steer clear. I don’t want her to cower when I walk down the hall towards her.
I want something else.
“I’m bad, but I’m not that bad,” I say simply. Even though the answer isn’t simple at all.
Still, it seems to be enough. She visibly relaxes. After a few seconds, she sets her drink on the coffee table, grabs my hand, and pulls me towards the stairs.
It is a mirror image of what happened at my party over a week ago. Her pulling me to my bedroom, leading the way. Except this time, her head is clear.
This time, she knows me.
More of me than most people get to see, anyway.
The second we walk into my bedroom, she spins around, shuts the door, and then leans against the wood. I walk towards her slowly, my heart racing with anticipation and desire and need.
She grabs my shirt in her fist and pulls me closer. Her body rolls against my center, so hot and tempting that I have to bite my knuckle to stifle a low groan.
“I’m taking what I want,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and breathless. “Now it’s your turn. What do you want?”
Before the words are even out of her mouth, my lips are on hers.
She tastes like vanilla and sunshine and sweetness, and I swirl my tongue into her mouth to taste her. To take her all for myself.
My fingers twist in the material of her dress, and she lifts her arms. I yank the fabric over her head, and growl at the sight of her lacy maroon bra and matching panties.
Her breasts strain against the delicate material, firm and round. I bend down and press my lips to the soft flesh.
Lily arches her back for me at once. I don’t realize what she is doing until her bra falls away, and her breasts bounce free. Immediately, I grab her by the hips, yank her up, and begin walking her back to the bed while I suck her pebbled nipple into my mouth.
She hooks her legs around my waist, holding me to her so we fall on the bed together in one sweaty tangle.
I feel like I’ve lost my head. Like I can’t think straight.
I’ve never been like this before. Usually, my mind is ten steps ahead, thinking about how to get whichever bitch I just fucked out of my space while I’m still inside of her.
But with Lily, there is nothing but the present.
Nothing but her.
Nothing but now.
Nothing but this.
Her hand slides down my body towards my waistband. Unlike yesterday in the locker room, I don’t stop her. I let her unbutton my pants, shove them down, and pull me free.
And when she wraps her hand around my length, I sag forward, resting my head on her shoulder.
“Fuck me,” I breathe.
She giggles. “That’s the goal.”
I nip at her neck and her earlobe. Then, I walk my fingers down the curve of her body, around her hip, and find her center. The second my finger swipes across her, Lily hisses and arches her back again.
This time, I don’t tell her to hold still. I luxuriate in the sight of her squirming beneath me. I admire the way her body flexes and strains against the pleasure I’m bringing her.
I admire her until I can’t wait any more.
I pull away, fumble in my bedside drawer, and grab a condom. Lily watches as I roll it on, her eyes wide and blinking.
I wonder if she isn’t having regrets already, but as soon as it is on, she grabs my hips and tries to pull me down over her.
I want her in every position known to man, but I still don’t take orders in bed.
“Roll over.”
She does as I ask, propping herself up on her knees and looking back at me over her shoulder, and it is so hot I almost come right there. At the sight of this girl, ready and willing.
My thighs meet the backs of hers, our bodies fitting together like a glove, and she presses her hips back to give me better access.
I slide myself along her folds, feeling the proof of her excitement dripping from her. Then, I go higher.
When I press myself against her, Lily flinches. “Um … wrong one.”
She sounds surprised, like she thinks I’d actually make that mistake. Like she thinks it is possible I don’t know the difference between her equally delectable holes.
“You said you want me to show you how bad I am,” I whisper.
Her eyes go wide, and her mouth opens and closes, uncertain. “I know, but … well … I’ve never—”
“Do you trust me?” I circle myself over the sensitive area, and her back stiffens, arching with pleasure.
Her eyes flutter closed, and her lips part, and she is so fucking beautiful.
Finally, she nods, and I realize she is stupid, too.
Maybe I should have given her over to Rufus or Caleb. Because if Lily thinks she can trust me, she is the stupidest girl alive.
“Okay, brace yourself.”
She grips the sheets with both hands and squeezes her eyes closed, preparing for the pain. I pull back, position myself at her opening, and after three agonizing seconds, I push into her pussy to the hilt.
Lily frowns and looks back at me. “I thought you were going to—”
“I’ll have you every way you can think of eventually,” I tell her. “This will do for now.”
I say it as though being balls deep inside of her isn’t the most magnificent thing I’ve ever felt. So much better than I even imagined.
Her body is tight and hot around me, and Lily leans forward, her upper body lying on the bed while her lower half is propped up and exposed for me.
I slide out of her all the way, grip her hips, and slide back in again.
With every thrust, I know I’m making a mistake. I know I’m in too deep already. But I can’t stop.
Lily DeVry is a drug I can’t quit.
She is a puzzle I can’t solve.
But I won’t stop trying.
She is …
She is …
When she reaches back and grips my thigh, begging me for more, harder, faster, I realize exactly what she is.
Lily DeVry is going to be my fucking undoing.
I pull out of her, grip her hips, and spin her so she is underneath me on the bed. Her legs wrap around me instantly, and I look into her eyes as I push inside of her again.
I watch the way her breath catches, the way her lips part and her eyes flutter closed. I watch the pink in her cheeks spread to her neck and her chest.
As I pump into her, our bodies slapping together again and again, I watch as a pleasure she can’t hide builds inside of her.
All because of me.
Her fingernails dig into my shoulder blades, leaving angry scratch marks against my skin.
I hope they scar. I hope I wear them forever as proof that this night happened. As proof that I felt something for someone. At least once.
No matter how it turns out.
“Finn. Oh God,” she squeezes her eyes closed and clenches her thighs around my hips. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
Lucky for her, I wouldn’t dream of it.
I pump into her with renewed energy. The second she stiffens and her body begins
to convulse, milking me, I give in. I release, gasping and cursing into her neck and breasts until the very last convulsion.
When it’s over, we lie on the mattress, catching our breath.
And I realize all at once that my plan just got so much harder.
I set out to ruin Lily DeVry, to take everything she had to give.
The problem is, the taking comes with a price, and I’m not sure I’m ready to pay up.
Lily DeVry is worming her way inside of me, settling in like rot in the trunk of a tree, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to cut her out.
Worse, I’m not sure I want to.
25
Lily
“It’s so good to see you experiencing new things and people,” Dr. Sharon says.
She’s smiling at my mostly false, PG-rated explanation of my first two weeks at Ravenlake Prep.
If only she knew the real story.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“Good things can’t come in if you keep the door closed,” she says gently, reminding me of one of the first breakthroughs I had in her office after dad Died. It has become my mantra over the years. One of many, actually.
I smile and nod in passive agreement. But I’m not so sure I agree anymore.
Back then, I thought only good would be waiting outside the door. Beyond death and sickness, what did I really know about the bad in the world?
Now I know the truth. When you leave the door open, all kinds of things can come inside. Good and bad alike.
Finn and I had sex three times before I left early Sunday morning. And it wasn’t anything like I imagined it would be.
More than anyone else I’ve ever been with, he cared about my pleasure. He told me where to lie and how to open my legs, but he made sure I felt good. I could see it in the way he watched my face as he slid inside of me. In the way he sped up his movements when my thighs clenched around his hips.
He cared when it was good for me, and that was good.
But Finn isn’t all good.
Just because he’s shown me a softer side of himself doesn’t mean I can trust him. I’m the bad guy, he said moments before I dragged him up to his room.