Glass Heart Savage: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Glass Heart Academy Book 1)

by Lindsey Iler

  “Ahh!” I groan in appreciation.

  Byron’s eyes dart to mine. I nod at him, silently allowing him to settle in.

  We are three parts, connected in different ways.

  Palmer lifts her head, and Byron kisses her with a feverish tempo. While they kiss, I rub her clit in small circles, selfishly hoping to draw her back to me. With shaky hands, she unbuttons Byron’s slacks, freeing him, as I glide in and out of her, quickening my pace at times only to slow down to tease her.

  Byron pulls back and brushes the hair from her face. “What do you want?”

  She cuts her eyes from him to where we are joined. I don’t stop, playing with the speed of my finger and watching the unfiltered pleasure nestle between us. She grips my shirt, forcing me down to her level, and strips it from my body.

  “Jesus Christ!” Her hand skims down my chest, appreciating every muscle I’ve earned. Her fingers dance over my tattoo, tracing the lines. Intimacy isn’t my ideal level of comfort. Having her admire something personal of mine has my skin ablaze.

  I stand, flip her onto all fours, and dive back in from behind. Byron scoots off the other end of the mattress. With his dick in his hand, I’m forced to watch her lips wrap around him. Her sweet tongue laps around the tip before she buries his dick down her throat like a bad dream.

  My movements stay slow. Even with the boiling anger from watching Byron with her, I can’t move any faster. I’ve promised her I won’t hurt her. Piling into her, hard and rough, would be too easy.

  This is my punishment for cracking too soon, for breaking our rules. She’s meant to still be off limits, and here I am, playing with her.

  Palmer pulls away from Byron, creating a popping noise as he’s freed from the suction of her mouth. Like a sex kitten, she glances at me over her shoulder. There’s something in her eyes I don’t ever want to see again. Hopefulness.

  Our stares lock. Upset, I push deeper inside of her. At the pace I’m driving into her, I won’t last. I need to get out of her, forget the way she feels around me, but it’s too late. With a crash, I find my release.

  I pull out, tie a knot in the condom, and toss it in the garbage can in the corner. Palmer is face down on the mattress. I run my hand over her ass and smack her skin. It instantly glows pink. She winces, not from pain, but from pleasure.

  “Where’d Byron go?” Palmer asks, wrapping his white sheet around her body.

  For the first time, I notice it’s only the two of us. When did he disappear, and where the hell did he go?

  “Did I do something wrong?” Palmer asks, unsure of herself. She scoots to the edge of the mattress, watching me pull my jeans on and secure the button.

  “Not at all.” I step one foot between her thighs, straddling her leg with the other, and tilt her chin up to make her look at me. “You’re great.”

  A sweet, small yawn stretches her mouth. “Tonight’s been eventful, to say the least.”

  She starts to lie down, and I grip her arm, forcing her out of Byron’s bed. “Not a chance in hell you’re sleeping in here, Palmer.”

  “Where will I be sleeping then, huh?” Her cheeks are that perfect shade of pink that only comes from an orgasm.

  “In my room. In my bed. Next to me.” I wrap an arm around her and toss her over my shoulder like a sack of feathers.

  She giggles from the sudden intrusion, kicking and batting at my back as I move us through the house, the sheet fanning behind us like a superhero’s cape. I stop in the kitchen and grab two bottles of water and any snacks I can carry while keeping her balanced.

  Breaker busts through the doorway of his darkened bedroom. “Can you guys be quiet?”

  “Sorry.” Palmer giggles louder.

  Breaker shakes his head, a smile forming as he watches her, and I pass through the hallway and up the stairs. The two bedrooms on the main floor belong to Breaker and Byron, while Dixon and I have two of the four upstairs. The main living space up here is taken up by a pool table, along with a section dedicated to old school video games.

  Our house on top of the hill is the best one on campus. We’re privileged assholes, sitting on our high horses in a transparent house full of secrets.

  “This place is insane,” Palmer says as I set her on her feet. She takes in her surroundings. “Which room is yours?”

  “This is mine right here.” I open the door to the left of the staircase and flick on the light. The dimmers are on low.

  “This is your room?” Palmer smiles, taking in the tidy space. “Nothing’s out of place.”

  “The rest of my life is chaotic. This is the one thing I have control of.” Damn. Maybe Dixon is right. I might as well peel back the layers of my diary for her.

  “Trust me, I get it.” The sheet brushes my feet as she steps around me, grazing her hand over my bare chest. “I did just have a threesome with two boys who find some sick pleasure in tormenting me, so chaos is in my realm of understanding at this point. Not to mention one of them is my teacher.” She does this cute thing with her face, lifting her eyebrow.

  “No one needs to know. What just went down can stay buried.”

  She looks over the pictures on my wall and shelf. They are ones I’ve taken.

  “Like they did with Reed?” she says over her shoulder, holding up one of Byron, Reed, and me before replacing it on the shelf.

  “Marek, get down here. Now.” Byron’s voice carries up the staircase. He sounds like a pissed-off authority figure, and my guess is I have something to do with that.

  “Wait in here. I need to go talk to him really quick.” I motion my thumb over my shoulder and step into the hallway. I watch her for a beat, curious what has her trusting me still. There’s been a silent shift between us. I’m not sure I like it.

  “No rush. I’ll get comfortable in here.” She sits on the edge of the bed, her hair a mess from our little tryst.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, I come chest-to-chest with Byron at the bottom of them. His jaw is tightly set.

  “What’s up, man? Where did you disappear to? You’ve never dipped out in the middle.” I smack his chest jokingly, as I pass him to sit at the kitchen island.

  He turns and steps back into me. “What the fuck was that all about?”

  “What are you talking about?” I grab an apple from the dish in the middle that’s always filled with fresh fruit, even though none of us grocery shop.

  “You fucked her like a delicate flower,” he sneers.

  “No, I didn’t. Is that why you bailed?” I bite into the crisp fruit, the juice hitting my tongue.

  “I don’t usually like to be the third wheel in a threesome, and that’s exactly what went down. You two might as well have said I love you while you drilled into her.”

  “You’re fucking with me, right?” I scoff, grinning to make him mad. Nothing pisses Byron off more than when he’s being serious, and one of us can’t find the urgency to match his.

  “You know that can’t happen. There’s too much at stake.” He points at me. “Remember that. She is a play toy, a means to an end. No room for feelings.”

  I hold my hands up. “Yeah, bro, I got it. No feelings here.” That’s a fucking lie. There’s something. I just don’t know what it is.

  Byron leaves me in the middle of the kitchen. Only the pendant lights above the island are illuminated, giving me a perfect view out of the glass wall down to the campus below.

  Kings in their castle, simply waiting to be taken down. A fallen queen with a sister left behind.

  You don’t know what you have until you want more. Palmer makes me believe there is more out there in the world than this life. She isn’t mine, though. Like Byron said, no room for feelings.

  So, why the sudden sense of urgency to get back to her?

  Hidden in plain sight, I stand in the shadows, watching her among my pillows and blanket. She holds the remote and flips through the channels, wearing my black sweatpants and my white t-shirt. Comfortable is what she is.

 
For tonight, she can be exactly that. She can sink into my pillows and kiss me like I’m here for the taking.

  “What are you doing out there? I can hear you breathing.” Palmer glances at the doorway, only to direct her attention back to the television. Her long brown hair cascades over her shoulder, and she twists it into a long braid, securing it with a rubber band from my bedside table.

  I stalk forward, resting my hands on the bed for leverage, and kiss her like she’s my girlfriend.

  “You look sexy as fuck in my bed, Palmer Weston.” I bite my lip, giving her everything I have inside of me that screams I’m here to take care of you.

  “Why, thank you, Marek Hawthorne.” She cups my cheek and I fall into the mattress with her tucked into my side.

  This is what I’ll never have, and fuck, if that doesn’t make me murderous.

  Byron is right. Kind of, at least. Feeling Palmer all over me is different than the other times before. Faceless and nameless girls is my usual appetite.

  Now that I’ve tasted perfection, I’m not sure I can go back feeling satisfied.

  Chapter Five

  Palmer

  Every bone and muscle in my body screams with a dull ache I don’t recognize. I’m certain I’m not in my dorm room. My hand runs over the luxurious fabric covering the mattress. The smell of leather and orange blossom surrounds me.

  I wake fully and look down at the dark gray linens underneath me, shocked by the influx of memories from last night. An image of Byron, holding tight to my face, kissing me, touching me in places I should have never allowed him to, slithers into my mind. Marek between my legs, admiring me. I am not naïve enough to believe I can wake up this morning, and everything will go back to normal.

  Nothing about last night is normal. In fact, if I were to guess, this is the shit that gets a girl committed. This doesn’t end with a happily ever after. It’s more likely to end with a court case.

  My clothes from last night are folded on the dresser, meticulous like everything else in Marek’s bedroom. I smile at the image of him making sure my clothes are perfectly taken care of. Once I’m dressed, I duck into his bathroom and splash cold water on my face to try to gain some sort of balance. Gazing at myself in the mirror, I’m surprised I still look like the same girl I was before last night.

  My steps are slow, every one of them full of apprehension for what awaits me below. The railing may as well be a crutch for my shaky legs. I hit the bottom landing, and a sound comes from across the living room.

  When I step into the kitchen, Breaker is leaning back in one of the island chairs, his feet kicked up on the counter.

  “Good morning.” The sly grin on his face has my cheeks heating. A distraction would be nice right now. My lack of one only seems to please him more by the chuckle that leaves his mouth. “Oh, sweetheart, us boys don’t keep secrets.”

  My head springs up at this announcement, just in time to catch Marek waltzing into the kitchen, looking everything like a girl’s dream and nightmare. The way his tattoo moves with his body holds my complete attention.

  Does he need to walk around shirtless, though? Sweat beads on his chest. He runs the shirt in his hand over his muscles.

  Marek stills beside me, dropping his lips to my temple and kissing me with a grin. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Exceptionally well, surprisingly,” I say to Marek’s back. He fills a cup of fresh coffee. Breaker mockingly presses his finger on the underside of my jaw, closing it. I swat him away and whisper, “Asshole.”

  “A good night’s sleep tends to happen when you’re fucked to next Tuesday by Marek and Teach over here.” Breaker points over my shoulder, and I check to see what has drawn his attention.

  Byron waltzes into the room like not a single memory of mine from last night is true. He pours himself a cup of coffee, then holds up the pot, silently offering me some. I shake my head, and like I’m stuck in a haze, glance around the kitchen. Their powerful stares pin me in place.

  “So,” I whisper, running my finger along the underside of the kitchen island.

  Two of these boys have seen parts of me I’d blush even admitting, and Breaker, well, he’s looking at me like he can taste me through my clothes. Uncomfortable doesn’t begin to describe the tension building in the room.

  Dixon walks in with his black sweatpants hung low on his hips and no shirt, with a little swagger in his step like he knows how good looking he is to the rest of the world. He has a smile for me as he takes a sip of the coffee Byron offers him. I’ve never taken the time to notice how much they resemble each other.

  “What’s with the weirdness in the room?” Dixon sits next to Breaker, glancing to him for answers, and then looks at Marek when Breaker only offers him a shrug.

  After a few beats, where words should fill the silence, Breaker folds over in laughter.

  “Are you two fucking kidding with us right now? When have you ever been too shy to parade your little fucked up escapades around this place?” Breaker inspects Byron and Marek.

  “Wait a second, you two didn’t do what I think you did, did you?” Dixon’s manic laughter surprises me. “You guys can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “Oh, you bet your ass they did.” Breaker claps his hands together, looking like a proud mother. “Teach got his dick wet courtesy of student of the month over here, and our sweet Marek laid her out while she choked on it. But get this”— he shakes his head— “Marek cuddled with her all night.” He pinches his lips together, amused to the point I think he’ll fall off his stool.

  “I didn’t choke,” I argue, realizing far too late how that sounds, and cover my face in embarrassment.

  Dixon spits a mouth full of coffee all over the island. “You cuddled with her?” He wipes the amber liquid off his lips.

  Dixon’s disbelief should offend me, but I know who I crawled into bed with last night. Marek isn’t the dating type. He’s the hump and dump, no room for attachment kind of guy.

  “She isn’t lying.” Byron winks at me over the lip of his coffee mug. “About the choking thing, that is.”

  Marek looks everywhere but where I’m standing, waiting to hear him confirm Dixon’s accusations. We did cuddle. Fuck, we did a lot more than cuddle. Instead, he moves a spatula around a pan and remains silent. What a quick change from kissing my head a few minutes ago to this shit show.

  “Where’s Delaney?” I ask Breaker, knowing he’s the last one who saw her. I will use my best friend to get out of this situation if I have to.

  “She already left.” Breaker shrugs, taking the eggs Marek has whipped up for him.

  “Without me?” I glance around, expecting to see her come around the corner. After the shit that went down last night, I’d assumed she’d wait for me, and we’d head back to campus together.

  “She had a headache, and we weren’t sure when you’d wake up after the sleepless night you had, so she said to make sure you got home safely.” Breaker pops a chunk of egg into his mouth. “Which I will do once I’m done eating this delicious breakfast one of your boyfriends made me.”

  I watch for Marek’s face to change, a slip in his demeanor, or anything, but stoic he stays. “I can find my own ride home.” I wonder where the hell my shoes are.

  “Oh, is that any way to be?” Breaker rolls his eyes and turns back to his meal. “Dick is meant to put you in a better mood, Palmer. Not what you’re exhibiting right now.”

  If I could, I’d slam Marek’s pretty-as-a-painting face into the hot pan in front of him. Why is he acting like I’m not alive, and allowing his friends to speak to me like this? Not caring what anyone else has to say, I grab my purse from the island and head for the door where I luckily find my shoes.

  In the driveway, I pull out my phone to see it’s dead. “Fuck me!” I shout to the sky.

  “You don’t want to be that girl who’s passed around a group of guys. Trust me, we never respect those ones.” Breaker walks up next to me and lifts a key fob, and the lights blink on the
black Escalade. He jumps behind the wheel and rolls down the windows. “Get the hell in, Palmer, or else.”

  I open the door and climb inside. “Are you boys always so bossy?”

  “We don’t have a choice.” He pops the gear into reverse and turns around in the driveway. He drives like his presence, authoritative and certain. We are almost down the hill when I feel him gawking at me. “I really hate cold eggs, Palmer.”

  “No one begged you to drive me home. I could have walked.”

  “Not going to happen, pretty girl,” he says, surprising me with the hint of anger in his voice at the thought of me escorting myself home.

  “I walk everywhere,” I explain, hoping he’ll understand I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

  “Well, not anymore. If I see you walking by yourself, I will have no choice but to become your personal bodyguard.”

  “What’s with the sudden urgency for my safety with you guys?”

  “There’s weirdos on campus, Palmer. I’d hate to see something bad happen to you.”

  For some reason, everything inside of me is telling me to believe his warning. “Okay, I won’t.”

  “Good girl.” He parks in the only space available in front of my dorm building. I unbuckle my seat belt, then his warm hand wraps tightly around my forearm. “Things aren’t always what they seem, Palmer. Remember that.”

  “I don’t do cryptic messages, Breaker, so say whatever it is you need to say.” I jerk away.

  One shoulder lifts in acceptance, and he shakes his head, silently telling me his lips are sealed. That’s all he can give me. After last night, I’m not sure if I have the energy to process anything.

  “Bye, Breaker.”

  “Till next time, Little Weston.” At his goodbye, I slam the door and hurry inside, his words clearly sinking in, and now I feel like I’m being watched.