SAVAGE: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rosewood High Book 3)

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SAVAGE: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rosewood High Book 3) Page 16

by Tracy Lorraine


  I shrug. I thought they were supposed to be back by now, but as usual, he just does what he likes. It was always Mom who’d call or text to let me know what they were doing and when they’d likely be home, but now, I guess it’ll all just be a guessing game.

  “Okay, so let me tell you what needs to happen.” He leans forward and places his elbows on his desk as he stares daggers into me. “You need to focus, get your head in the game. Forget her, forget him. This is about you and your future. We win these playoffs and any college who knows their shit will want you. Three games, Ethan. You’ve got to keep your head for three more games. Hell knows I already lost Thorn to a skirt, Paine too if he manages to get back on the field. I need my best safety fully on board. You got that?”

  “Yes, Coach.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

  I lift my chin. “Yes, Coach,” I shout, my deep voice echoing off his walls.

  “Good, now get your ass to class. And if I so much as find you in here when you should be elsewhere, alone or not,” his eyes narrow, telling me that he knows more than he’s letting on right now, “then so help me God.”

  Rising from the chair, I walk toward his door.

  “Ethan.”

  “Yeah, Coach?”

  “Make your mamma proud, son.”

  Emotion clogs my throat. Unable to swallow it down so that I can respond, I nod my head and leave his office.

  The temptation to march right out of school and attempt to forget this day ever happened is high, but I’ve already fucked up twice now this week. I don’t need any more reasons for Coach to ride my ass before our first game on Friday night. So instead of walking out, I stop at my locker, grab my shit, and head to class.

  The second I step into the room, all eyes turn on me. I ignore the teacher, who barks something at me about my timekeeping before walking toward the back and my seat that’s waiting for me beside Jake. I pass another empty desk, but it doesn’t register. I’m too distracted by the look on Jake’s face.

  “Where the fuck have you been, and why is your fucking hair wet?”

  “Don’t ask,” I mutter, pulling my books out and none too quietly dropping them to the desk.

  “Don’t tell me, it has something to do with that other empty desk.”

  I shrug. “How should I know?”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Savage. I can see exactly what is going on. You hate her. I get that, more than most. But don’t pull the same shit I did to try to deal with it.”

  “This isn’t the same.” His comparison of this situation with his and Amalie’s pisses me off.

  “Fine, okay. But let me just say this one thing…” He stares daggers into me until I’ve no choice but to turn to look at him. “Amalie is the best fucking thing that ever happened to me, and I could have very easily ruined it before it even started because of my stupidity and misplaced anger. She’s innocent in all this, just like you are. Maybe you’re not destined for anything together, maybe you’re right. But she could be a friend, your sister. Don’t fuck it up, whatever your relationship could turn out to be.”

  My breath catches as his words hit a little too close to home. “You know. I think I liked you better when you were an asshole.”

  His laughter floats around me before the teacher stops whatever it is she’s talking about to ask if we’re listening. I just about refrain from replying with ‘does it fucking look like it?’

  The rest of the day fucking drags. The only good thing about it is that I don’t see her again. It almost means I can lock down the memory of her in the locker room as if it didn’t exist.

  I’m getting changed for practice when my cell rings. Dragging it from my pocket, I find my dad’s name illuminating the screen.

  My thumb hovers over the answer button.

  “Just do it,” Jake mutters over my shoulder.

  Blowing out a breath, my lips press into a thin line and I swipe and put it to my ear.

  “Yeah,” I bark.

  “I just received a call from the bank questioning a transaction made this afternoon in the mall. Victoria’s Secret was one of the shops mentioned. They flagged it as unusual and wanted to know if something untoward was going on.” The fact that he doesn’t even say hello or ask how I am isn’t lost on me.

  “I’m in school. I haven’t been shopping in—” My words falter. Trailer trash hasn’t been seen since leaving the room I’m standing in right now. I rummage through my bag, find my wallet and flip it open. No credit card.

  Bitch.

  “Actually, no. It’s fine. It was… Rae.” Her name sounds weird falling from my lips. It’s not lost on me that I’ve not yet used it, but there was something about her having an actual name that meant she was real and not just some part of my fucked-up imagination.

  “Rae went shopping in the mall with your credit card when she should be in school? What the hell is going on, Ethan? And why wasn’t she using her own card?”

  “Nothing. It’s fine. She just had a wardrobe issue, and I don’t know. Maybe she thought mine was hers, I don’t know,” I ramble, just wishing he’d get off the phone. This is the reason she used mine, so I would get this phone call and have to explain myself.

  “Did it burn down or something? She’s spent a hell of a lot this afternoon.”

  “Yeah, something like that. It’s fine, don’t worry.”

  “Okay well… make sure she’s back in school tomorrow,” he demands like it’s my fucking job to parent the girl who’s the same age as me.

  “Whatever.” Pulling the phone from my ear, I end the call and throw it into my bag.

  “Everything okay?” Jake asks, but I barely register his question. My imagination is too busy running away with itself. She spent all afternoon in Victoria’s Secret. My mouth waters and my cock begins to stir to life. I wonder what I’m going to find when she gets home from work tonight?

  Easy access is one thing, but her curvy little body wrapped in lace… Fuck. My temperature soars at the thought alone. The image of her bent over with his ass on display, lingerie still in place as I slam into her fills my head and won’t abate.

  “Ethan?” It sounds like it’s being shouted down a tunnel, but a quick slap to my head brings me back to reality.

  “Get your fucking head together. Two days until this game, man. I need to be able to rely on you.”

  “We’ve got this, cap. Come on.”

  I make quick work of changing and head out onto the field for Coach to put us through our drills. He nods at me as I jog toward him, but I don’t respond. I just get to work. I need the burn that only he can deliver if I’m ever going to successfully get that image out of my head.

  My evening drags. I refuse the offer of heading to Aces, knowing that she’d be there working with fuck only knows what under her clothes. Instead, I head home, eat the food that Rachel’s prepped for me and hang out in my den watching TV and attempting to do some homework. I’m not very successful at either and keep finding myself staring into space with only one thing on my mind. I know it’s been a while since I got laid, but fuck. The permanent hard-on I seem to be walking around with isn’t fucking necessary. I consider calling up Shelly or one of the other girls to come and relieve my situation, but the thought really doesn’t appeal. The idea of someone else’s mouth, on the other hand, I’m very interested in.

  Pushing up from the couch ten minutes before I’m expecting his car to pull up on the drive to deliver her home—that’s assuming she doesn’t go out drinking with him again—I make my way up the stairs and into her room. I feel much less like I’m breaking and entering without there being an actual door to open.

  The second I step inside, her scent assaults me and my mouth waters as I remember just how she tasted on my tongue last night.

  Looking around, I find her diaries have vanished from the nightstand. Assuming they haven’t gone far, I start opening the few pieces of furniture in here until I find them stacked neatly in the ottoman.

&
nbsp; I pull out the same one I had the other day. I just lie back on her bed and flip it open when the front door slams.

  Excitement fills my stomach as I wait for her to find me. She’ll be pissed that I’m here again. Good. I want her fired up. She’s more fun when she is.

  21

  Raelynn

  “Fucking hell, Ethan,” I shriek, turning the corner to my room and finding him getting comfortable on my bed. “Get out,” I mutter, my long-ass day getting the better of me. I’ve no idea why I’m so tired seeing as I’ve slept well the past two nights, which is something that hasn’t happened in… forever.

  “No fucking chance. I was just getting to a good part.” Glancing up, I see what’s in his hands that I missed when I first walked in and panic.

  “How’d you find that?”

  “You didn’t exactly hide it, did you?”

  “Where was I? Oh here… Mom’s sick, so Kurt took me out for the day so she could rest. He promised me a fun day, but I didn’t think in a million years that it would have been as fun as it was. He took me ice skating. Mom’s always refused, telling me she’s scared, but I’ve wanted to go forever and now I have. It was awesome. Then we went for pizza and ice cream. It was the best day. Kurt is by far the best boyfriend Mom has had. I hope things work out for them. I can imagine him being my stepdad one day. Aww, how cute.”

  I have to fight like hell to keep my body from visibly shaking as he takes me back to that time.

  Mustering up the courage to speak in the hope that it’ll stop him from reading further, I storm over, dumping my bags on the bed as I do. “Enough,” I bark, leaning forward to snatch the diary from his hands. But he sees it coming and moves it away before I get a chance to get my fingers on it.

  “Ohhh… someone’s got their panties in a twist. You’d better be careful with them, seeing as you maxed out my credit card buying them.”

  My mouth drops open. I knew he’d find out. Hoped he would, actually. But I wasn’t expecting it to happen quite that quickly.

  “Wondering how I know?”

  “Don’t care,” I mutter, turning my back on him and kicking my shoes off.

  “My dad called,” he starts, disregarding my comment. “The bank called him about unusual activity on my card. Wanted to know why I was buying women’s underwear instead of being in school.”

  I’m glad I’ve got my back to him, because I know guilt is written all over my face. I didn’t want to spend Eric’s money, but the second I saw his card sitting on his dresser this morning after discovering my missing underwear, I couldn’t resist. At the end of the day, it might be Eric’s money, but it was Ethan’s allowance I was splashing on the most insanely expensive underwear I’ve ever seen, let alone purchased.

  After walking out of school I continued with no destination in mind. When I came across a bus stop, I got on and just let it take me wherever while I stared at the passing scenery.

  Everything was like a blur as I sat there, and that was fine by me. I needed to forget everything about this day that was entirely fucked-up from the moment I woke up late and discovered my missing underwear. But the second I saw that we’d pulled up to a mall, the stolen card started burning in my pocket and I was powerless but to walk toward the shops. I didn’t intend to spend much, just buy some cheap underwear to tide me over until the asshole gave mine back, or I found it. But when the first shop I came across was Victoria’s Secret, a wicked smile spread across my lips and I couldn’t help myself.

  “Yeah, well. If his asshole son hadn’t stolen everything I own, then it wouldn’t have needed replacing, would it?”

  Thankfully, when I turn around, he’s closed and lowered my diary to the bed, his focus solely on me.

  “So…” he says, flicking his eyes to the bags.

  “So what?” My eyes roll in frustration. All I want to do is have a shower and get started on my homework, not have to deal with his bullshit.

  “I want to see what I bought.”

  “You want to see my new underwear.” Of course he fucking does. Creep. “Why? So you know what you’re stealing next time?”

  “No because it’s from Victoria’s Secret and it’s probably hot. I might even make you do a little fashion show for me.”

  “Make me?” I ask, my voice raising an octave in shock. “I hate to burst your little bubble there, hotshot. But you can’t make me do anything.”

  “Now, that’s where you’re wrong, sweet cheeks.” His voice drops as he says my one of many nicknames, and fuck if it doesn’t make things flutter down south. “I can make you do a lot of things.” He scoots to the end of the bed, his eyes roaming over my body. “One.” He lifts his fingers to start counting, making me want to snap each one off. “I can make you want me. Two. I can make you scream my name when you come.” My cheeks heat and I pray that he’s too consumed with my curves to notice. “And three. I can make you beg for more.”

  “No fucking chance.”

  “You want to bet?”

  I laugh. “No. I really don’t want to make a fucking bet with you.”

  “Why? Are you afraid you’ll lose?”

  “No chance. I never lose.”

  “Well then it looks like we might have an issue.” He stands from the bed and stalks over. “Because I also never lose.”

  My heart picks up speed at his closeness, the heat from his chest seeping into mine and making my nipples pucker. His hand lifts to the zipper on my hoodie, and he slowly pulls it down.

  “F-fine. W-what is it?” I stutter as he parts the fabric to reveal my sports bra clad torso beneath. Although the way he’s looking at my chest, you’d think I was naked. I regret the question the second it falls from my lips, but the moment his dark, hungry and angry eyes meet mine, I know I’ve made a huge mistake.

  “I make you beg for more, and you get on your knees and give me more.”

  “There’s something fucking wrong with you.” Somehow, I manage to sidestep him and escape to the other side of the room until I’m in front of the doors.

  “Many, many things, sweet cheeks. But right now, my problem is simple.” I keep my back to him, looking out over the view across the beach and to the ocean that’s the other side of the balcony.

  His heat presses to my back, the hard ridge of his erection pressing into my ass and making me bite down on my bottom lip as a wave of desire so strong washes through me. I hate him, he’s an asshole. His closeness shouldn’t affect me like this.

  He pushes us both forward until we’re on the balcony and looking out over the view.

  “You think anyone down there can see us?”

  I look to the people he’s talking about on the beach who are only illuminated by the bright moonlight and gasp as his calloused fingers trail down the soft skin of my stomach.

  “We can see them, can’t we? So there’s no reason why they can’t see us.” I would imagine the fact that we’re backlit from the light in my bedroom only makes us more visible to them. A shudder runs through me at being watched, but I’m afraid to accept that it’s excitement, not the fear I should feel.

  “Hmm…” The vibrations from his low moan seeps into my back. “That’s what I was thinking. I was also wondering if they’d like a little show.”

  “Ethan.” His name is meant to be a warning, but it sounds anything but.

  “I can already taste this win. You’re already moaning my name.” His fingers tease across the waistband of my jeans before he pops the button and tucks them inside. “What happened to my boxers?” he asks when he finds the soft lace of my new panties.

  “Burned them,” I say between heaving breaths.

  “Fuck,” he groans before pushing deeper inside my panties until his fingers part me and find my sensitive nub.

  I need to tell him to stop, to push his hand away. Anyone could look up here and find us in this position.

  “Ethan, no.” My argument is weak at best as he begins to circle my clit. My fingers wrap around his muscular forearm with the
intention of pulling it from my body, but he presses a little harder, my body sagging against him as the pleasure races through me.

  “You need to get out of my room.” My voice is barely above a whisper and a far cry from the demand I was hoping.

  “Is that right? So what I’m doing right now, with those people down there potentially watching, isn’t turning you the fuck on?”

  I shake my head against his chest, the only argument I have.

  “That’s weird, because what I’m feeling is very different. You’re wet as fuck right now, sweet cheeks. And those down there,” he threads his fingers into the back of my hair with his free hand and forces me to look down at the beach, “they’re fucking loving it. Actually, I bet they’re down there begging for more. You want to give it to them?”

  “Ethan.”

  “Oh, baby. You’ve no idea what your begging voice does to me. You feel that?” he asks, thrusting his hips to ensure his solid cock presses into me. “It makes me hard as fuck just thinking about how hot that little mouth of yours is.”

  Oh fuck. My core clenches to feel something inside, his punishment on my clit not enough. But the second I start to think he’s going to give me more, he removes his hand from me. My muscles go lax, and if it weren’t for him at my back, I might fall to the floor.

  “Nooo,” I cry, immediately missing his attention.

  His fingers grasp the shoulders of my hoodie, and in a blink, it’s thrown back into the room somewhere.

  “You think they want to see your tits?” he groans in my ear.

  I shake my head, my panties impossibly damp at the thought, but it doesn’t stop him. His fingers pinch the zip at the front of my top and slowly, so fucking slowly, he pulls it down until it releases my breasts. They were already swollen and desperate for his touch, but the second the cool breeze brushes over them, my nipples pebble and my back arches in the hope of more.

  “You fucking love this, don’t you, sweet cheeks? You like being put on display, being pushed to do something so sordid.” His words dig up a memory that I spend months—no, years—trying to bury. The grip of the vivid flashback to someone else’s words almost engulfs me, but as if he knows what I need, his warm palms cup my breasts and squeezes, bringing me back to the here and now.

 

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