Bullied by the Baseball Captain: An Academy Reverse Harem Bully Romance (The Bullies of Strathmore Reform Book 1)

by Jenni Sloane

  My breasts pushed against his hard chest, and his finger sliding over the rough knit of my sweater until my nipple hardened underneath, and I gasped. He stroked my tongue rhythmically with his own, continuing to caress my breast through my sweater. His index and middle fingers scissored to pinch my nipple, and he swallowed my cry into his own mouth. I could have come right there. I, who’d been ashamed and afraid of orgasms my whole life, now couldn’t get enough. I remembered Cole’s cock sliding into me. The moment of pain, followed by a growing pleasure. I wondered what Bennett would feel like inside of me. I raked my nails down his back, offering a moan that was strangely like a sob.

  He removed his hand from my breast and swept it down my side to cup my backside. He pulled me roughly against him, and we both began to grind, panting against each other’s lips, stealing fierce kisses whenever the pleasure threatened to make us cry out. He gave my right buttock a harsh squeeze, twisting the flesh. The sensation caught me on a peak of pleasure, and I tumbled over the edge, not even caring anymore if people could hear my little gasps and whimpers through the door. Bennett’s covered erection found a sweet spot between my legs, and he rubbed hard against me, gasping suddenly and stiffening. With another strangled exhale, he dropped his forehead onto my shoulder, then used my sweater as a gag as he tried to stifle his shout of pleasure.

  I ran my hand down his back to his ass, squeezing, then giving him a light slap. He whimpered against the side of my neck. Licked my throat tentatively, then lifted his head to kiss my jaw. I sank against him, and we both went down to the floor, letting the tile cool our burning bodies.

  We leaned against the wall and one another, staring straight ahead. Then, simultaneously, we turned to face each other.

  He smiled.

  Bennett Baker actually smiled. He brushed a sweaty lock of hair from my temple. Then he kissed my forehead tenderly, almost reverently, and pulled me against him. I closed my eyes and sank into another world until the bell rang.

  The rest of the day was strange. I expected to feel like I’d betrayed Cole. Like the night we’d spent together should have erased all thoughts of kissing Bennett. Of singing with Ian. But that feeling never came. I only felt the repeated thrill of knowing that I had the bullies of Strathmore under my spell—however fleetingly.

  I hoped it wasn’t fleeting, though. As I climbed the stairs to my dorm, I became aware that I would actually lose something meaningful if these guys decided they were no longer interested. Or if they revealed they’d all been playing me. Sure, on the surface it seemed like it was just about sex. Did any of these men have anything in common with me? Ian, maybe. And Bennett, in that we shared an interest in computers and mathematics. But that wasn’t enough to build a relationship on.

  And why was I thinking about relationships?

  Jesus Christ, Amma. You get off a few times and suddenly you’re planning your polygamist wedding?

  I entered the dorm to find Ainslie dumping her purse and jacket on the bed. She’d clearly just returned from work.

  “Hey,” I said.

  I got an answering smile. And not a pleasant one.

  “Where have you been?” I asked, still trying to make polite conversation.

  Her grin widened. She’d clearly been waiting for me to ask. “Guess,” she said.

  “I have no idea.”

  “I visited Harpers Prison.”

  The words took a moment to register. I lowered my book bag slowly to the floor. Then looked at her again. “The prison?”

  She was practically salivating to tell me. “I got permission to visit Mason.”

  I knew I should stay calm. I knew she wanted me to freak out. But I couldn’t help it. “Why were you visiting Mason?” I demanded.

  She shrugged. “We’ve been writing back and forth. And he wanted to meet in person.” She licked her glossy lips. “He’s very cute. Some part of your family must have good genes.”

  I ignored the dig. Ignored everything except my own blind rage. Before I knew it, I’d grabbed her by the throat and shoved her up against the wall. She gasped, choking a little. “What are you doing, you psycho?” she ground out.

  “You stay away from my brother,” I ordered.

  She grinned again, even as she made a strangled little whine. “Too late.”

  I shoved her again, so that her head knocked against the wall. “I mean it. He’s off limits.”

  “You can’t stop us if he wants to see me!”

  “Try me,” I said through clenched teeth. I stayed there for a moment, feeling the faint beat of her pulse against my hand. Somewhere way in the background was the horror I knew I should feel at my own actions. But I was through with shame.

  I’d changed.

  I’d become stronger. I’d started thinking about what I wanted.

  I wasn’t going to let this manipulative little brat get in my way.

  I released her. She lowered off her toes, gasping and rubbing her throat. “You’re insane,” she gasped.

  “If you’re trying to make Ian jealous,” I said smoothly. “I don’t think it’s working. He seems pretty interested in me.”

  That made her face redden. But she kept her voice controlled. “I don’t give a shit about Ian. All I want is Mason.”

  What a lie.

  “Good luck getting him,” I said. “You don’t know the first thing about him.”

  “I probably know more about his life right now than you do!” she shot back.

  That hit its mark.

  It was true. My brother had become a stranger to me. And I wanted so badly to ask if Ainslie knew anything about the new evidence that might free him. But I couldn’t.

  “I could report you, you know,” she said, her color still high. “I could have you out of here so fast—”

  “Then do it,” I said.

  My heart was pounding. What if she did? But I figured I had her number. Ainslie was a lot of bark—no real bite.

  Sure enough, she huffed and threw herself onto her bed. Shoved her earbuds into her ears and shut out the rest of the world.

  I didn’t sleep well that night. My dreams were filled with images of Ainslie and Mason kissing. Rutting against each other the way Bennett and I had in the tutoring room. Several times I woke, expecting to see Ainslie standing over my bed with a pair of scissors or some other horror movie shit. But each time, she was snoring softly in the bed across from mine. The only demons were in my head.

  Chapter

  The next day passed in a daze. I couldn’t focus on anything until I received a note—handwritten—in my locker. From Ian.

  Amma,

  Please meet me in the chapel at 5. Swear nothing bad. Just wanted to talk about some music stuff. Only if you want.

  Ian.

  My heart sang at the echo of what he’d said to me at the assembly. Only if you want. I enjoyed Ian like this. When he was admiring me. Worshipping me a little. He was as dangerous as a drug. I’d loved basking in his glory for those few minutes during the assembly. Imagining how it would feel to cultivate my own.

  I read the note again and sighed. I didn’t exactly have fond memories of the chapel. If it was a trap, then I deserved to be thrown into the pizza oven at Peppino’s and baked alive. But I didn’t think it was. What would be his goal? Lure me back into the chapel and force me to sing again? He knew now that I’d sing if he asked nicely.

  I thought about bringing Kayle with me. But she still hadn’t apologized to me, and I wasn’t going to be the one to do it.

  Besides, I wanted to talk to Ian alone. The idea of being alone with him set my stomach fluttering, made my skin tingle.

  Two men isn’t enough, Amma? asked the voice in my head.

  Fuck that voice.

  At five o’clock, I headed to the chapel. The air was chilly, and I pulled my sweater tighter around me. The interior of the chapel was as cold and dank as I remembered. But there was something alluring about the old building this time. There was a history here, in these peeling w
alls and scuffed pews. I had a memory of my mom complaining about the large, “rock-arena” churches cropping up in our town when I was younger. “God prefers a humble home,” she’d said. Well, this was about as humble as they came.

  I noticed that the door to the Station was open. I shivered at the sight of the dark crawlspace. It wouldn’t have surprised me to see a hundred ghosts and demons suddenly pour forth from that small rectangle of blackness.

  I walked over to it, intending to shut the door so I didn’t have to look at it. I heard the chapel’s back door swing open, then shut. My heart picked up with anticipation.

  I turned, trying for a friendly smile.

  And came face to face with Ainslie.

  My face froze with a weird half-smile on it that gradually slackened. She was staring at me, her eyes uncomfortably bright.

  Fear grew in the pit of my stomach. “Where’s Ian?”

  “Aw, sorry.” She tilted her head, her blond ponytail swinging. “Ian couldn’t make it.”

  I swallowed.

  She went on, “Did you really think he wanted to talk to you privately? About music?”

  Well…yes. I didn’t see why that was so absurd. Ian’s life was music, and he liked my voice. The note had contained a phrase he’d used to me before…

  But I didn’t know what his handwriting looked like.

  That part hadn’t even occurred to me.

  Ainslie took a step toward me. I instinctively stepped back. “You think you’re so special, don’t you?” her voice was a furious rasp. “Just because he sang with you. Just because you’re his latest project? Well, I wasn’t a project. I wasn’t a toy. He loves me.” I noted the present tense with increasing unease.

  “That may be so. It’s really none of my business.”

  “It is so!” she snapped. “Don’t you have enough? I’ve seen you slutting it up with Cole. And with Bennett. God, you act like this prim and proper little Jesus freak, but you’re actually a complete whore.”

  The words hurt. I’d thought them myself often enough over the past week, but it still stung to have them hurled at me by someone else.

  Ainslie’s face contorted with anger. “But it’s not enough, is it? You have to take Ian too.”

  “Whatever you think is happening here, Ainslie, you’re wrong.”

  “Am I?” She bit a hangnail, smiling cutely around it. “You’re up to something. I heard you whispering with your little friend. You did something to Cole and Bennett. You’re going to do it to Ian.”

  My heart stopped for a second. She couldn’t know about the serum. Kayle and I had been careful. We didn’t talk about it in public. Well…except for at lunch the other day. But only in whispers, and only for a moment.

  “I’m gonna go,” I said, trying for nonchalance. I turned to head for the front, since she was blocking the back exit.

  “Don’t you dare!” she said sharply.

  I sighed and turned back, arms spread. “Hey, you got me. You’re trying to jump my brother, and I’m trying to jump your ex. So I guess we’re even.”

  Even I couldn’t believe I’d brought up jumping Ian, out loud. But I’d barely finished the sentence, let alone begun to consider whether it was true, before Ainslie rushed me.

  I’d never seen anyone move so fast. She was a blur of blond hair and bared white teeth. She gripped my shoulders, and her forehead cracked against mine. I staggered back, held in place only by her fingers, which were digging into my muscles like claws.

  I cried out as she whirled me in a quarter turn. I tried to fight back, but she had the adrenaline advantage. She wrapped one hand around my throat, choking me, while I gasped and flailed, trying unsuccessfully to grab her bright-gold ponytail.

  She backed me up, ignoring my windmilling arms, the kicks I aimed at her shins.

  I suddenly realized where she was headed, and I gave an almighty twist, nearly wrenching myself from her grasp. But she kicked me hard, and I stumbled backward. Another kick, and I was on the ground, gasping, as she shoved me inside the Station.

  “Stop!” I shrieked. “Ainslie, stop!” I made a grab for her ankle, but she pulled her foot neatly aside, then used it to shove me the rest of the way into the crawlspace.

  My body was wired with panic. I struck out blindly as she tried to swing the door shut, managing to stall it with my left arm. But she hurled her whole weight against it, and I screamed as my arm wrenched and the door slammed. I heard the lock click. Then I was curled there in the darkness, covered in dust and cobwebs, trying to still my frantic breathing so I wouldn’t inhale so much filth.

  I saw her shadow moving through the cracks in the old wooden door.

  “Ainslie!” I yelled again.

  “I’m not going to let you take what’s mine, Trailer Trash,” she said. “And I’m definitely not going to let you get away with what you did the other day.”

  I didn’t reply. I’d gotten my breathing down to a controlled panting.

  “Have fun with the spiders,” she sang out. Then I heard her walking away.

  “Ainslie!” I called. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of hearing the fear in my voice. But she couldn’t just leave me here.

  The front door creaked open. Then slammed shut. I focused on slowing my breaths further. In…and…out. I thought about Cole. Cole and his surprising combination of wickedness and tenderness. I thought about Bennett, and the box of chocolates he’d tried to hide on my birthday when he saw me with Cole. The fire in his eyes when I pushed him to be bold. I thought about Ian. Ian, who I did want to talk to about music. Whose lip rings I wanted to feel pressed against my skin, adding a slightly metallic taste to our kiss. I even thought about Archer. A question mark. Sometimes my companion, sometimes my tormenter. Always insisting he was his own person, even as he lived in Ian’s shadow.

  These men had given me the strength—both through their reign of terror, and through the kindnesses they’d shown me since—to survive Strathmore. Now I needed them to give me the strength to survive this. I couldn’t let Ainslie win.

  Slowly I uncurled. There was barely enough room for me to change positions, but I finally got my legs facing the door. I kicked out as best I could, but there was no room to gain the force I needed. So I used my elbow, smashing it sideways against the old wood. My sweater snagged on splinters, and I could feel my skin being scraped away even through the fabric. But I kept working, feeling the door give a little with each blow.

  But never enough.

  I took a break, panting and hugging my knees. I could feel blood trickling down my sweater sleeve. No one was going to find me here. Nobody used the chapel, except probably to make out and do whatever drugs they’d smuggled in. I’d be here until I choked to death on dust.

  “Don’t let her win. Don’t let her win,” I murmured. I gasped as something brushed my face. I tried to swipe it away, and then, in frustration, began lashing at the door with my fist, punching it until my knuckles were abraded. Then I tipped my head back and let out a howl of frustration.

  The front door squeaked open. I almost couldn’t speak at first, I was so relieved.

  Then it occurred to me that Ainslie might be back, and I froze.

  I heard Bennett’s low voice call, “Amma?”

  Relief flooded me again. “In here!” I pounded the Station door again.

  His footsteps hurried toward me. He undid the latch and swung the door open. I inhaled sharply. Even the chapel’s musty air felt fresh as a mountaintop breeze after the inside of the crawlspace. “Amma.” He sounded shocked.

  I scrabbled to my feet, embarrassed to find my legs were shaking.

  And then, somehow, I was in his arms. I couldn’t tell if I was the one who initiated it, or if he swept me into his embrace, but there I was, my forehead resting on his shoulder, my face buried in his broad chest. His arms tight around me.

  “What happened?” he whispered. His warm breath stirred my hair.

  “I…” Part of me didn’t want to tell o
n Ainslie. Wanted to settle this with her myself. “I don’t know.”

  “I saw you walking here,” he said. “Ainslie went in a few minutes later, and I got worried. I know she’s…she’s been on sort of a tear lately about you and Ian.”

  “She locked me in,” I said, glad my voice wasn’t shaking.

  He held me tighter. “It’s okay now.” He replied, with a gentleness I still found surprising.

  I breathed in his scent and let myself relax against him. He was so solid. So comforting. It would be as easy to get lost here as it had been to get lost under the stars with Cole.

  The door creaked open again, and I whirled.

  Cole entered the chapel.

  Bennett still had one arm around me, and I could feel him tense.

  Cole stopped a few steps in and stared at us. “Is she okay?” he asked Bennett.

  “Ainslie locked her in the Station,” Bennett said gruffly.

  “I’m fine,” I replied, running a hand through my hair. “It was just…surprising.” And terrifying. But no need for them to know that.

  Cole’s hands clenched at his sides. “Can’t Ian keep that bitch on a leash?”

  I straightened, angry. “Don’t you ever talk like that about a woman.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Even one who tried to imprison you in a haunted crawlspace?”

  “Any woman.”

  He had the grace to drop his head, if only for a second. “Sorry.”

  He stepped forward, almost tentatively. “But…you’re okay?” The concern in his voice pulled at something in my chest.

  Bennett’s arm tightened around me. I could almost see Cole’s lip curl. “She will be.”

  “You’re not okay.” Cole was looking at my left arm. “You’re bleeding.”

  I glanced down at the trickles of blood that had run down through my sweater sleeve, and the rivulets around my knuckles. “Oh. I was…trying to get out.”