Boys That Read: A High School Romance

by Rosewood, Betti

  “What did you just say to me?” He raises his brows at me, a look of such fury taking over his handsome face, I inhale sharply.

  “I said-”

  He doesn’t let me finish. Instead, his strong, huge palm wraps around my neck and my breath catches in my throat as he raises my feet off the ground. I flail helplessly, but he holds me up as if I weigh nothing. My hands fly up, fingers clawing at his in a desperate attempt to breathe again.

  “I don’t want to hear you speak of her ever again,” he snarls in my face. I notice absent-mindedly he looks almost more handsome when he’s this angry. “I pity you for what you’re about to go through, toy. I pity you, because you’re going to be the laughingstock of Eden Falls. The bitch we take our frustrations out on. I’m going to make your life miserable. You thought people hated you? Just wait until you see how bad things get at school. Just wait until you’re the punching bag of every Firstborn in this town.”

  His words make my eyes water, bringing out my bratty side, but my inner bitch settles down at the sight of pure rage in his eyes.

  “Let me down,” I rasp, but he ignores my pleas, holding me up even higher. “I can barely breathe, let me go!”

  “I could end this right now,” he mutters to himself. “I could throw you off the cliff like the trash you are, blame it on the weather.” As if in warning, the dark clouds above us crackle with thunder and lighting. It’s going to rain soon, and it’s going to ruin the party.

  “You’re not going to do that,” I scoff, barely able to breathe. He’s squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. I claw at his strong fingers. The places where his strong fingers are digging into my skin are already hurting.

  He smirks at me, taking a step closer to the edge. He’s holding me right above the precipice now, and I pale as I realize I’m completely at his mercy. But I’m not going down without a fight.

  My heart skips as I beat as I mutter, “Just do it. Get it over with. Kill me.”

  “So eager to die?” he asks.

  “You don’t have the balls to kill me.”

  He ponders my words before releasing his grip on my throat without warning, throwing me behind him. I tumble to the ground unceremoniously, picking myself up the next instant, determined not to let the cruel boy get to me. But before I can make a move, his hand grabs the front of my pristine white dress, the one I’d found waiting on my bed that morning, a sign of my innocence.

  His thumb and pointer finger locate my nipple under the lace bodice, and I gasp audibly as he twists it with the intent to hurt me. No one’s ever touched me there before. It’s not a welcome sensation, but his punishing grip sends waves of guilty pleasure through my body nonetheless.

  “You like this,” he mutters, and when the traitorous blush tints my cheeks a rosy pink, I know I’ve been caught. He smirks, pleased by his new discovery, and intent on using it against me. “Dirty fucking toy. You don’t think I’m capable of it, do you?”

  I don’t answer. The pressure on my nipples intensifies, making me mewl out in desperate pain as the boy tugs on my sensitive skin.

  “Answer me.”

  “You’re just a spoiled rich kid who thinks he can get away with anything,” I say, hoping to whatever God is listening that I’m right. “A rich kid who’s too afraid of my dad to disobey him.”

  The pressure of his fingers changes, and he smoothes down my dress, his palm coming to rest on my chest. Our eyes meet, and I find myself blushing again as he smirks in my face. Then, his hand shoves me back, hard.

  A scream tears itself from my lips and I close my eyes, accepting the fall that never comes. Instead, his fingers wrap around the fragile lace at my throat, holding me in place. I’m floundering. The only thing separating me from falling is his firm grip on my dress. But the lace isn’t strong enough to hold me. I hear the fabric of my designer dress ripping and I cry out in protest.

  “Please, please don’t!” I cry out, realizing a moment too late what I’ve said. “You’re crazy!”

  “Girls are so easy,” he says, sounding bored. “Gone from wanting one thing to the other in a split second. You bore me. Your plain face. Your uncultured attitude. Your tits are a fucking saving grace. Let’s see if that slit between your legs can make up for your average looks.”

  “No!” I struggle against him but freeze on the spot when the fabric rips further. “Stop it! Please, stop it!”

  “You don’t want to die?” he asks me sweetly, and I shake my head, hot tears streaming down my face. “Then beg.”

  “Never.”

  “Really, never?” He laughs in my face. “I bet I can change your mind, toy.”

  He loosens his grip and I cry out, my feet sending dust and dirt flying as I struggle to get back on firm land.

  “Don’t do this,” I get out. “Don’t hurt me. My father will have you killed for it.”

  “And you suddenly care about what happens to me?”

  I shake my head, my eyes wide and unblinking. “I don’t want to die.”

  The words tumble out of my mouth at alarming speed. Am I really this easy to break?

  “I want more,” he snarls. “I want you to fucking beg.”

  I hesitate, and he lifts a finger from his grip making me mewl in protest.

  “Please, don’t do it,” I manage to get through my trembling lips. “Please don’t let me go!”

  The finger goes back. I feel myself slipping. I’m tempted to scream. I’m tempted to beg more. And worst of all… I feel my center flooding with wetness as he uses his other arm to force his way under my skirt. His long fingers brush against my pussy with surprising gentleness, and I protest with a whimper.

  “No panties,” he mutters, sounding surprised. “You learn fast. After all, a toy needs to be accessible to her betrothed at any time.”

  “Please!” I half-scream as my feet struggle against the slippery ground. I’m going to fall soon. “Please, I’ll do anything you want!”

  “You know you can’t break a promise to your dearest fiancé, don’t you?” he asks. “I assume your father has clued you in on the rules?”

  Before I was allowed in their company, I’d been taught their laws, and his words ring true with me. Eden Falls is a deeply traditional town, patriarchal to the very core. My fiancé’s word is law here. He could have me destroyed for breaking the promise.

  I nod helplessly, risking a look over my shoulder and paling when I see the distance from the top of the cliff to the beach below from a new perspective. Fuck. If he lets me go, I’m as good as dead.

  “I k-know,” I stutter. “I’ll do everything you want. I swear. I swear I will.”

  “For how long?” he demands.

  “The w-whole school year, the first year of Prep.” My heel slips and I cry out. “Please! I swear! I promise! Please!”

  He laughs in my face and pulls me back to safe land. He throws me down like a broken, worthless toy he’s gotten sick of, and watches me with a look of disgust on his classically handsome face. He buttons his expensive blazer and steps on my dress, dirtying up the white lace as he gives me one last disgusted glance.

  He hates me, but not as much as I hate him.

  Yet my core is vibrating with the need for him to touch me again. My body doesn’t seem to understand how much I despise the boy. He looks like he would detest spending more than another second with me, and as he watches me rasp on the ground, I’m momentarily convinced he’s going to spit on my trembling body.

  “Pathetic,” he grinds out instead. “Say thank you for my mercy, toy.”

  I pick myself up on my elbows, my bottom lip jutting out and trembling in unspoken fear. My heart races at the nickname he used for me. I hate my body for betraying me.

  “Fuck you,” I cry out.

  “Oh, I will,” he grins. “Soon enough. Now obey. Or do you want this getting back to your father?”

  I think about my possibilities. In the short time I’ve spent with my father since I came back from my four-year stay at a bo
arding school, I’ve come to realize he’s as ruthless as he is cruel. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll be punished if he finds out I defied Dexter. I don’t really have a choice here.

  “Thanks,” I grind out.

  “Say thank you properly, bitch.” He glares at me.

  “Thank you,” I snarl. “Thank you for your mercy.”

  “Thank you for your mercy, Sir.”

  “Sir?” I repeat the word. He’s barely a year older. He’s not even twenty-one. But his twisted face tells me he’s not going to let me get away without saying it the way he wants to hear it. “Thank you for your mercy, Sir.”

  “See? You can be such a good little toy when you actually try to please me.” He kneels next to me, letting his fingers wander over my lips. “I’m going to have so much fun torturing you.”

  Then he smirks, walking away from me and leaving me to tremble on the floor, my gown ruined, and my pussy wet as fuck.

  “Oh.” He turns around, smirking at my trembling body on the ground. “I almost forgot. Happy birthday, toy.”

  I watch him leave, my body threatening to give out. But I force myself up nevertheless, standing on shaky legs. I dust off the front of my dress, I readjust my diamond necklace. I check my complicated updo is still in one piece, and take a deep, calming breath before walking away from the cliffs, toward the Oakes Mansion where my eighteenth birthday bash is in full force.

  At least I’m still alive, I think to myself as I paint a pretty smile on my face. At least they haven’t broken me yet. And I’m going to get away from all of this. I’m going to fucking run the first chance I get. This Booth kid will never get to me-

  And as I make my way to the party, offering up fake smiles to bored-looking people, my heart skips a beat with the knowledge that I’m already lying to myself.

  There’s no denying the effect the boy has on me – the evidence is still there, determinedly dripping down my inner thighs. And as his wicked gaze meets mine from across the garden, I know he’s never going to let me go back on my promise.

  Because Dexter Booth isn’t the kind of boy who gets bored of his toys.

  He’s the kind of monster who breaks them on purpose.

  TO BE CONTINUED…

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  About the Author

  Betti Rosewood is a romance junkie and cat enthusiast in her late twenties. She lives in a picturesque European country with her partner, 2 rowdy cats and a friendly Lab Retriever. When not writing damaged alphas, she can most likely be found binging TV shows and movies, and always jotting down new book ideas.

  Also by Betti Rosewood

  Lords Of Wildwood

  Boys That Tease

  Elite of Eden Falls Prep

  A Hurt So Sweet