Savage Devil: A Secret Baby, High School Bully Romance (Devils of Sun Valley High Book 2)

by Daniela Romero

  Emilio pushes off the door and stalks toward me, that’s the only way I can describe it. His eyes are bright, practically glowing, as he closes the distance between us, a predatory glint in his eyes.

  “You running from me, mariposa?”

  I swallow hard and manage to shake my head, that nickname eliciting a strange sort of emotion in my chest. Emilio leans into me, his breath fanning across my neck. My hands fly up on their own to clutch at the fabric of his shirt. I don’t know if I plan to draw him in or push him away, but the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palms grounds me.

  “Good. Because if you run,” he trails his nose down the side of my neck and nips at my shoulder with his teeth. “I’ll have to give chase.”

  I shudder, my entire body responding to him, but I force myself to take a deep breath. This…isn’t what I expected.

  “I remember the way you taste,” he whispers, tugging the neckline of my zip-up hoodie to the side and trailing kisses across my skin. “The way your pussy squeezed my cock when I buried myself inside you.”

  His vulgar words make my thighs tighten, even as a shiver of apprehension races down my spine. He draws back, a savage curl to his lips. “Do you remember?”

  My stomach tangles in knots. Of course I remember. I remember every single moment of that night in vivid detail. Every kiss. Every touch. But I don’t tell him any of that. I’m stuck standing here, words frozen in my mouth as he looks at me like he wants to devour me, but there’s a cruel edge to his smile. One I don’t know how to interpret. The boy I met eighteen months ago was wild. He had a devil-may-care attitude. And sure, I don’t really know him, but first impressions do mean something. Emilio acted like he didn’t have a care in the world. He was the kind of guy always looking to have a good time. Searching for his next thrill.

  This Emilio is different.

  He doesn’t give me the chance to dwell on that. Instead, his lips press against mine, and suddenly I’m drowning in the taste of him. Sweet oranges and chili, just how I remembered him tasting. Each caress of his tongue awakens something dormant inside me. I lose myself to the sensations when his arms band around me as he lifts me from my feet, my legs wrapping around his waist of their own accord.

  He carries me over to a desk and sets me down on the smooth surface. One of my hands curls around the edge for support while the others holds onto Emilio, afraid to let go. My heart races behind my rib cage. There are a million reasons why I need to stop this, the most prevalent one being that I still haven’t told him about Luis. But I can’t think. Can’t get enough air to form the words I know need to be spoken.

  His kiss is frantic. His grip possessive as he tilts my head, deepening our kiss and pressing his body closer into mine. Then I feel it. The hard length of him pressed firmly against my core. It reminds me that I haven’t been with anyone else. Not since that night. Not ever. He was my first. And so far, my only.

  The next thing I know, his fingers are unbuttoning my jeans and working their way into my panties. I tear my mouth from his and suck in a lungful of air. “What are you doing?” I gasp as his mouth latches on to the side of his neck, nipping and sucking at my skin in a way I know is sure to leave a mark.

  His fingertips graze over my center, and I shudder in his arms. He chuckles, the sound smug and self-assured. “So fucking responsive. What does it look like I’m doing, Bibiana?” The way he says my name makes my toes curls and short-circuits my brain. He manages to slide my jeans down my hips before I realize what’s even happening. He unzips the front of my sweatshirt, but when his fingers curl beneath the hem of my shirt, reality sneaks back in, reminding me that I am not the same girl he slept with eighteen months ago. I’ve changed. My body has definitely changed. And I’m not ready for anyone, let alone the boy who haunts my dreams, to see it.

  I stop his hand from tugging up my shirt but have zero clue as to where to redirect it when he makes that decision for me and squeezes my breast over the material of my top. I wince. It doesn’t hurt but…gah…if I leak milk right now, I will be so mortified.

  I need to put a stop to this entire thing. This, whatever it is, cannot happen right now but—oh my God. His finger rubs over my center, the thin material of my panties hardly a barrier as he presses a finger inside me.

  I moan into his mouth. This is a stupid, horrible, insane thing to do right now, but I can’t seem to make myself tell him to stop. And I have to accept the fact it’s because I don’t want him to.

  Seven

  She lets out a sweet whimper when I cup her breast in my hand and squeeze it. They’re larger than I remember. More than a handful, but fuck me if they’re not perfect. Her eyes darken with need, if not a little apprehension. She’s nervous. That should bother me, but it doesn’t. Seeing her open desire feeds the beast inside me, so I give both of us what we want, slipping one finger inside her dripping cunt. Fuck me. My girl is ready, needy.

  Wait. What? She is not my girl. Where did that thought even come from? Gritting my teeth, my cock strains against my zipper, desperate to thrust into her heat, but that’s not on the menu today. This isn’t about getting my dick wet. It’s about proving a point.

  A moan leaves her as I sink a second finger into her pussy. Fuck, she’s so goddamn tight. I nip at her lips, small mewls of pleasure escaping as I work my fingers in and out, finger fucking her until she’s writhing on the desk. Gasping my name.

  “You like that, baby girl?” I ask, taking pleasure in watching her squirm. She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t need to. Her heavy breaths, the rapid rise and fall of her chest is answer enough.

  She wets her lips and the sight of her tongue peeking out does things to my head. Makes me want to devour her. Body, mind, and soul.

  I tower over her, our mouths centimeters away from one another. I suck in the air she breathes, my free hand tangling in her thick, black hair before I crush my lips against hers in a punishing kiss. Her legs clench, her back arching as her breasts press against my chest. She’s close.

  I add in a third finger, stretching the walls of her pussy, making her take all that I can give. Next time, it’ll be my cock buried inside her tight little body instead of my fingers.

  The thought has me clenching my jaw, nostrils flaring. There isn’t going to be a next time, I remind myself.

  “Oh, God.” She stiffens against me, her jeans dangling from one leg while the other wraps around my hip.

  “Come for me, Bibiana,” I grind out against her ear, savoring the way her name tastes on my tongue. My thumb finds her clit, circling the bundle of nerves and like glass, she shatters.

  Her body goes taught. Her moan muffled by my lips as her orgasm tears through her.

  I swallow her cries and suck on her bottom lip until her body relaxes, her shoulders slumping and her pleasure-drunk gaze finding mine.

  I withdraw my fingers, adjusting the raging hard on in my jeans before bringing my hand to my lips and sucking her orgasm clean from my fingertips.

  Her eyes widen in surprise. A blush heating her cheeks. I don’t bother hiding my savage smile before gripping her jaw and forcing her to taste herself on my tongue. When she’s breathless once more, I release her and turn to leave.

  “W…where are you going?”

  I don’t answer. I don’t turn around. I force myself to take step after step away from her so she knows exactly what it’s like to have someone mark you, only to walk away and for you to be forgotten.

  I skip third period but make sure I’m in fourth. Allie will have my ass if I skip our calculus class again. It’s the one class Dom, Aaron, Rome, Allie, and I all have together, and I swear she treats it like it’s a family meal. I head to the back of the class where Dom and Aaron are already seated and nod at both of them as I take my seat. Bibiana has fourth with us too, and it looks like this girl doesn’t give one fuck about making a scene, because as soon as my ass hits the chair, she storms into class, cheeks tinged pink and eyes ablaze as she heads straight toward me, right
eous anger etched into every line of her body. “What the hell was that?” she bites out, slamming her small hand against the top of my desk.

  I might not have thought this through completely, but damn if she’s not beautiful like this. I’ll have to piss her off again sometime. Possibilities race through my mind and a slow smile curls the corners of my mouth. I look her up and down, silently cursing myself for not getting a glimpse when I had the chance of the tanned skin she hides beneath her oversized sweaters. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I spread my legs and lean back in my seat, folding my arms across my chest. She stands there. Indignation written all over her face. “Did you need something?” I ask. “Class is about to start.”

  Her eyes brighter, a lick of fire rising to the surface as her gaze narrows on me. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but you can’t just…” she waves her arm in the air. “You can’t do what you did and then walk away like that.”

  I cock my head to the side. “Why? You had zero problem fucking me and walking away. I thought this was our thing.” The students around us snicker but neither of us look their way, too focused on glowering at one another instead.

  Bibiana bares her teeth, leaning forward and pressing her face close to mine. I’m tempted to kiss her again. Capture her lips with mine and see how she reacts, but I manage to hold myself back. Barely. The pull between is strong. I don’t fucking like it. She’s not only under my skin. It’s like she’s burrowing her way into my goddamn soul. What is it about this girl?

  I catalogue her features, taking in her bright blue eyes, her kiss-bitten lips, and her sexy-as-hell scowl, all the while ignoring Dominique’s interested stare. The asshole’s probably already envisioning my downfall at the hands of the tiny thing in front of me. He’s a cruel bastard like that. Seriously though, he and baby Henderson deserve one another. And me, do I deserve her? I’m not sure if I’ve been given a gift or a curse with Bibiana’s arrival.

  “What is your problem? We had a one-night stand. Why are you acting like an asshole whose feelings are hurt when you knew the arrangement upfront?”

  I scoff. “Baby girl, my feelings are far from hurt. You just seemed a little tense earlier. I figured I’d help you out.”

  She isn’t buying it, but I don’t fucking care. The entire room is looking our way. She doesn’t know it yet, but her little outburst isn’t going to do her any favors here. My jaw tightens. I don’t know how to feel about that.

  Roman and Allie walk in and like any other day they head straight for me and Dom claiming the seats nearest to us. “Is everything okay?” Allie asks.

  I shrug. “Not sure. You should ask your new friend here.”

  Allie’s shoulders drop and she gives me an exasperated look. “What did you do?”

  Bibiana smirks. Cute. She’s only known Allie a handful of days. Vanilla would never take her side over mine, but I let her think she’s won. For the next thirty seconds, at least before I turn to Allie and look her right in the eye. I’ll probably go to hell for this. Then again, I’m already a Devil. Hell’s been a forgone conclusion for me. “I gave her an orgasm.” I say loud enough that the entire class can hear. “Not sure what the problem is. She enjoyed it, but now she’s complaining. Sorry, baby girl. I had to get to class. I know you have needs so if you behave, I’ll consider helping you out again later.” Her cheeks flush and fire licks her gaze.

  “Screw you,” she curses and turns, looking for a seat, but she isn’t left with many options. She can either sit her pretty ass down where she’s at, putting her beside Allie and directly in front of me, or she can go sit front and center at the head of the class.

  Her nostrils flare and I watch as she considers what to do, her fingers curling into a tight fist at her side.

  She does what I expect and claims the seat in front of me, her back ramrod straight and shoulders stiff. I lean across my desk, my mouth hovering behind her ear as I whisper, “That’s right. Be a good girl and next time I’ll get you off with my mouth instead of my fingers.”

  I watch in fascination as goosebumps break out across her skin.

  “There isn’t going to be a next time,” she grinds out.

  I laugh and lean back in my chair. I thought that too, but I’ve suddenly changed my mind. No longer content leaving her after just one round. An eye for an eye isn’t enough. I don’t want to get even. I need to be ahead. To win whatever twisted game it is we’re playing.

  This girl has me under her spell, and I refuse to be the only one who suffers for it. She deserves to be punished. I need that. Need to know I’m the one in control. I don’t want to hurt her. Not physically.

  I want to strip her down of her defenses and make her beg. I want to tease and taunt her until she can’t take it anymore. And when she’s finally had enough, I want to push her a little bit more. Show her just how much she can take. I don’t know why I feel this way. But it’s an insatiable need, and fuck it, I may hate myself for this later, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m drawn to this girl. And instead of doing the smart thing and keeping the fuck away, I’m going to bury myself in her until neither of us knows up from down. And I’m going to have a hell of a time doing it.

  Eight

  “Relax,” Monique tells me.

  I’m pacing in the living room and despite Luis being asleep in my arms, nervous energy makes it hard to stand still.

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  Easy for her to say. She isn’t the one about to tell everyone she has a kid. A kid who happens to also belong to their friend, but I’ll save that story for another day. Maybe. Hopefully. Urgh. I don’t know. I tried all week to find the courage to tell Emilio about Luis but there was never a good time and then after the whole classroom incident, I don’t know. I need to tell him but a part of me also doesn’t want to.

  He did what he did and then went about his business like it never even happened. And every time I turned around he was either hitting on a girl or making out with one in the hallways at school. It … sucked.

  I haven’t been touched in a year and a half. Not that he knows that, but still. He doesn’t get to do that. Make my body light up like the world is on fire, only to walk away and pretend like what happened between us isn’t a big deal. Like it meant nothing. Because dammit it did. To me at least. Just the thought of him makes my blood boil. Where does he get off? He is such an asshole.

  I don’t understand him and trying to figure out what is going on in that head of his gives me a migraine. He watches me. Always out of the corners of his eyes like I won’t notice but I do. He tracks my movements and more times than not it’s like he’s waiting for me to show up before he leans into another girl. Like he wants a reaction out of me but I refuse to give it to him. I’m not an idiot and I refuse to be pulled into this twisted game of his.

  Ignoring me, the girls, it’s all intentional. He wants me to react, though how, I’m still not sure. I have no claim on him. I can’t be jealous. Well, I can be, because I clearly I am, but I have zero reason to be. He’s not mine. I’m not even sure if I want him to be.

  I don’t know if the fact that he’s doing this all on purpose is a relief or just pisses me off more. But at least I know I’m not the only one affected. Every time another guy that isn’t one of the Devil’s talks to me, Emilio’s jaw tightens. It’s a subtle reaction but it’s there.

  It’s petty and immature of me but, I’ve taken to messing with him at lunch. Intentionally eating my food in a provocative manner. His eyes burn. His jaw clenches. But despite his suggestion two days ago, that next time he’ll make me come with his mouth, he hasn’t said a single word to me. I’ve been on the receiving end of heated stares and lingering looks, but that’s it. No words. No smiles or openings for conversation. No way to casually say, “did I mention we have a son together?”

  I hate it, and I love it, and I have no freaking idea what to do about it. Finding a way to tell Emilio about Luis was complicated enough to begin with.
Now it’s a cluster fuck of epic proportions.

  The doorbell rings, startling me from my thoughts, and I rush to answer it, Luis propped on my hip, his head on my shoulder. I’m equal parts terrified and excited for Allie and Kasey to meet him. I haven’t introduced him to anyone outside of family except for Monique, and she’s my best friend so that doesn’t count.

  “Relax, B,” Monique says as she joins me. “They’re gonna love him.”

  I gave Allie a heads-up that I wanted to introduce her to someone important to me but I didn’t give her any details and I’m pretty sure this isn’t who she had in mind.

  I open the door and find both girls waiting with Aaron right behind them. Shit. I’d completely forgotten he was coming too. I swallow hard and all three sets of eyes zero in on the little boy I’m holding.

  “Hey, come on in,” I say, ushering them inside.

  Dressed in a knee-length hoodie dress and black K-swiss sneakers, Allie is beaming when she steps inside. “Is he yours?” she asks with open curiosity. I nod. “Oh, my God. He’s adorable.” She touches one tiny hand, her eyes shining with wonder as she gazes at my precious bundle. “How old is he?”

  I swallow hard. “Nine months.”

  Her smile widens. “You did good, momma.” She moves to the side, making way for the others, and I lead everyone through the kitchen and into the living room. “Told you,” Monique whispers. I nudge her with my elbow playfully, grateful that things are off to a good start.

  “My mom will be here in a little bit and she’s going to hang out with him. He usually goes to bed around eight, but he didn’t get a nap today, so he zonked out early,” I say for everyone else.

  Kasey moves closer and gives Luis a quick once over. She’s dressed in ripped jeans and a flannel shirt over a black tank top. Her hair thrown in her usual messy bun style. “He’s cute,” she says in way of greeting. “Doesn’t look anything like you.”