But he draws back and runs his knuckles over my cheek. His blue eyes hold a hint of amusement, reminding me this is just a game to him. I’m panting and so goddamn wet. And losing.
“Go home, Becky.”
My teeth grind and I snap. “Quit fucking calling me that!”
He laughs. “That’s what you want, right? To be like her?” His hands grab mine, ripping them from his sweatpants, and before I can stop him, he pins them above my head to the wall. He presses his body into mine once again. Fuck, he’s hard. My body begins to shake with need, but he ignores it. “You want me to want you like I wanted her.”
“Deke,” I warn, but my knees threaten to buckle. Every time I’m around him, he overpowers me in some way.
I like it.
Throw me on the bed, rip off my clothes, and pin me down. I’ll be your good little whore.
That’s obviously what he’s into— a girl who’s easy and stupid.
“You want me to fuck you like I did her?” His brows pull together as if he can’t quite understand the thought of that. Allowing himself to want me would be beneath him. He thinks she’s so much better than me.
And fuck, I can’t understand it either. I hate him as much as I do her, yet here I am, panting and wet all because he is touching me. Silently begging him to fuck me. “Stop,” I growl as though it’s his fault I came here. What the hell did I expect? Deke Biggs is ready and willing to play. He made that crystal clear when he showed up at my mother’s house last night. And I couldn’t stay away. I’m literally using myself as bait. And men like him, the GWS, don’t ever pass up a chance to draw blood—to eat you alive.
He lowers his head to the crook of my neck, and he kisses me softly just like before. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up at his tenderness. It’s another trap. He has figured out that’s my spot—my weakness—so why am I falling for it?
I moan loudly and then bite my lip to keep from begging for more.
“You want me to treat you how I do her?” he whispers.
I fight to free my hands from his hold, but it doesn’t work. I know he still sees her. He proved that when he thought I was her at Silence.
“Tell me, baby. Did it turn you on when I ordered her to her knees so I could fuck her mouth?”
My breath hitches.
“Did you listen to her suck my cock like the desperate woman she was?” he asks amused.
“Yes,” I answer shamelessly.
I thought she was as weak and pathetic as he did. Now I understand why she so willingly fell to her knees to try to convince him to stay. But unlike my sister, I know, no matter how much time you spend staying on your knees, you don’t win Deke Biggs over. There are too many other girls out there willing to do the same thing.
His lips trail over my collarbone, and he bites it through my shirt. I whimper as the feel of his teeth makes my pussy throb.
“Do you want to be useful to me?” he asks. “Take her place?”
“Stop!” I growl, getting pissy. “I’m nothing like her.” I want you to want me for me. Fuck Becky and what he felt for her!
He steps back and drops my arms. They fall to my sides like dead weight, and I hate the distance he’s put between us now.
“You’re exactly like her.” He looks me up and down, his blue eyes full of hatred, his lips pulled back with disgust.
For the first time, I see how much he truly hates her. How much I must remind him of her. We both have blond hair and blue eyes, but I’m smaller than her in height and overall size. Becky has always been runway ready with her long legs, but I prefer an oversized T-shirt, no makeup, and a pint of ice cream in my lap while I stay home watching some frightening shit on Netflix. She likes to go out, get drunk or high, and show off everything she has in a tiny skintight dress with heels.
We may look alike, but our similarities stop there. He’ll never believe me, though. And I’m not about to try to make him understand.
But if he hates her so much, then why did he do what he did to me at Silence, thinking I was her? My only guess is a power trip. He thought she wanted him, and he was going to take advantage of the situation. Then he realized it was me, and he was disgusted. He may hate my sister, but I’m nothing to him. Insignificant. And that’s a hard pill for me to swallow.
The fact that I hate Deke is no longer an issue because my hatred for my sister is far greater. So I’m going to do what I watched her do all those years and use what God gave me.
“Get the hell out of here.” He nods to the closed bedroom door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DEKE
SHE STANDS THERE, back still against the wall, looking every bit of pissed and turned on all at once. Ignoring her, I go to my walk-in closet and grab a shirt off the hanger. I feel like going out for the evening, and there’s a party on campus that I can hit up. I need to get drunk and hook up with some stranger because all this pent-up aggression I have for Demi is giving me a headache. Not to mention blue balls.
When I walk out, she’s still standing there, blue eyes glaring into mine and arms now crossed over her chest.
“I’m better than her.”
The bitch is convinced. I’ll give her that. A part of me wants to believe her, but I know the truth. She’s just another spoiled Holt who thinks she deserves every little fucking thing she wants.
I snort.
She lifts her chin. “At everything.”
I toss my shirt onto my unmade bed and smirk, looking her up and down. Wanting to really look at her. Is there a difference? She wore a pair of skinny jeans, cuffed at the ankles with a plain black T-shirt that’s just short enough to show me a little sliver of her tan stomach and a pair of black heels, giving her every bit of an extra five inches. Just as Becky would. But it doesn’t suit her. I found her much more attractive in the oversized shirt and underwear she had on last night. With Demi, less is better. But her words don’t match her actions. She looks identical to Becky in every way.
Her eyes go to my shirt on my bed and then back to mine. I watch her anger toward me build in them for every second I just stand here, letting the silence linger between us. She hates me so fucking much. I want to wrap my hand around her elegant neck and demand she tell me why she’s here in my room. Is she trying to prove to me that she isn’t Becky?
What is it that she wants from me? Whatever it is, she isn’t going to get it.
I walk over to her, and she squares her shoulders, preparing herself for whatever I’m about to throw at her. “How are you better?” I press my body into hers again, and of course, my cock is hard. But it’s not her, it’s the game. I get off on fucking with people. The challenge.
Right.
I lower my lips to her ear. She stands perfectly still with her hands hanging down by her side. “Can you lie on your back longer?” My right hand grips her hair and yanks her head back. It hits the wall with a thud. Becky was made to be loved. She may have been a whore, but she needed to feel like she meant something—cherished. She didn’t like a hand around her throat or to be spoken to like a cheap fuck. Demi is going to be the same way.
Little Miss Priss wants a prince to save her, but this monster will rip her apart. It’s hard to smile when you no longer have a pretty face. Ever heard of the saying beauty is only skin deep? Rip Demi of her expensive name-brand makeup and fake tan, and she’ll shatter every mirror she comes into contact with because she won’t be able to stand the sight of herself.
Her eyes fall closed. Long, dark lashes fanning her cheeks. When they open, she looks up at me and sighs my name. “Deke …”
I hate how it makes my hard cock twitch with longing. Just as it does when her sister says it. “Can you spread your fucking legs farther?” My left hand comes up, and I run a finger over her parted lips, and I lick my own, still tasting our kiss. She tasted sweet like honey. I wonder if her pussy tastes as good. Her breath quickens. “Can you suck my dick harder?”
Her eyes narrow on mine. “Yes.”
Fuck
, I’d love to shove her to her knees right here and now and have her show me. But I don’t plan on touching Demi. Ever.
I smirk and pull away from her. “Go home.” I reach over and open my bedroom door. “I don’t play with little girls.” Her hands fist, and I don’t miss the marks that the zip tie left from me binding her wrists behind her back. I wonder how long it took her to find a pair of scissors and get free. It couldn’t have been easy. I should have stayed and watched the show.
“You had no problem playing at Silence,” she growls.
“That’s because I thought you were your sister. I would have never touched you otherwise.” I’ve never thought of Demi sexually in any way. And even though my cock is hard, that doesn’t mean I’ll do anything about it. I have some restraint.
“And last night?” she grinds out.
I give her a smug smile and lean up against the open door. “That was to teach you a lesson, princess.”
Now she’s the one who smiles, and it makes her look like the evil fucking bitch I know she is. She steps into me, and her bright blue eyes light up with excitement when they meet mine. When she places her small, soft hands on my bare chest, I tense. “Want me to teach you something?” She leans up on her tiptoes and places her lips by my ear. Her breath skims over my skin, and I bite the inside of my fucking cheek to keep from growling.
I should push her away, but I’m afraid if I place my hands on her, I’ll be throwing her onto the bed and not out the door where she belongs.
“I know all your secrets, Deke …” Her hands run down my chest and stomach. I think she’s going to pull down my sweatpants, but instead, she taps my hard dick, making me jump.
I grip both of her wrists in my hand, and she hisses in a breath at the sensitive skin. My eyes narrow down at her. “Are you threatening me, Demi?” I call her by her first name because I’m no longer playing.
“Maybe.” She runs her tongue over her bottom lip seductively. “What would you do to keep my mouth shut?”
It’s the same question she asked me at Silence. And my first thought is to tape that motherfucker shut. I should throw her on my bed, tie her hands behind her back, and gag her. That’ll show her what kind of guy I can be. But I have a feeling it’ll just turn her on. She’s pushing me to see just how far I’ll go.
And it’s working.
My blood begins to boil. I don’t know what all Demi heard me say to Becky those two nights in her room, but I’m not about to let this bitch think she can play me. Pretending to be Becky was fucked up, but to threaten me is the dumbest thing she could do.
I lean down, and whisper, “You think you’re being cute, Demi, but believe me when I say I have no fucking limits when it comes to protecting myself.” I pull back, and the smile has dropped off her face. “Don’t fuck with me because you won’t survive it.” What the guys and I did to Kellan was not a fucking game! And it no longer involves just me and what’s left of the GWS. Austin was a part of that as well, and I’m not taking that chance. I will protect my sister just as I will protect my brothers. And that’s all she could possibly know.
“Are you threatening me?” she asks, tensing.
“Absolutely!” I growl.
She rips her hands from my hold. “Don’t threaten me, Deke.” Her blue eyes glare up at mine. “I keep telling you that I’m nothing like my fucking sister. I’m not going to fall to my knees to suck your cock while begging you to love me. And I’m sure as hell not afraid of you.”
DEMI
I storm out of his bedroom and down the stairs. I all but run out of the house and make my way over to my black Audi R8. I yank the door open and fall into the driver’s seat. When I start it, “Trouble” by Valerie Broussard blares through my speakers. I look up to see Deke standing at the front door. He has his right hand in the front pocket of his sweatpants and his left clenching the doorframe. His completely rigid body shows off his bulging biceps and six-pack. He’s too perfect for my sister.
I smile at him. This fucker thinks he can scare me, but he’s wrong. I look away, throw the car in gear, and take off, squealing my tires.
I adjust myself in my seat and tighten my hand on the steering wheel as his words turn in my head.
Don’t fuck with me because you won’t survive it.
He thinks he’s fucking God and holds that much power. It makes me think that is why my sister hasn’t done anything about it. Maybe he said something to her that I didn’t hear that night. Or since then. I don’t know how often they speak. I know Becky’s only friend in this town is Austin, and Deke lives with her and Cole, so they have to see each other on the regular.
I jump on the highway and head toward my mother’s house as the song changes to “Down” by Seven Day Sleep. I cut into traffic and ignore the guy who blows his horn at me and hit the gas. I’ve got shit to do.
Thirty minutes later, I’m pulling up to my mother’s gate, and it opens. I get out and enter the house. I take the left staircase and barge into Becky’s room. Her walls are a beige color. Her peach comforter and white sheets lie wadded at the end of her bed, unlike my room that I keep clean at all times. She has clothes thrown on the floor and draped over her computer desk by the windows. I almost trip over a shoe, making my way over to her walk-in closet. I start ripping the boxes open that she brought with her from Collins. She left quite a bit back at our dad’s, so I know whatever she did bring is important to her.
One is full of sweaters. I shove it to the side and pick another one. I rip it open to find a backpack and school shit. “Goddammit.” I hiss and push it aside as well. Then I come to a third box. I rip it open, and there’s a black and white notebook in it. I pick it up and flip through the pages. It’s a journal.
Funny. My sister has never kept one before. That I know of.
I go back to the very front and look at the first page.
He hit me today.
Not the first time. But it hurt like all the others.
He tried to put his hand up my skirt. I pushed him away, and he slapped me across the face. My mother saw the whole thing and all but shoved some weed in my hand and then pushed me out the front door.
I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. I’m going to go live with my father. I’m not sure how that will be much better, but at least I know he’ll ignore me rather than touch me.
I flip the pages and then stop on a new one that has HELL scribbled across the top. Whose is this? My sister has horrible handwriting. I remember my dad used to make her erase her homework and rewrite it until it was readable. Whoever wrote this has beautiful handwriting. The cursive is easy to read. My sister’s looks like chicken scratch.
The devil doesn’t come to you as an ugly monster with fire breathing out of his ears. No. He is sent wrapped in a breathtaking smile and pretty eyes that can see to your soul.
Cole Reynolds is what was sent to me.
He is ugly on the inside but pretty to look at. He just dropped me off from Shelby’s house. He had her stitch up my arm. That he cut while in the cemetery last night. Where I watched him and four of his friends kill a guy.
“Shit.” I hiss. This is Austin’s. Why the hell does Becky have it?
He caught me watching them. He cut my arm without a thought and then placed the bloody knife in the body. Said if I turned him in, I’d go down with them. The fucker is too smart for his own good, but what he doesn’t know is that I’m better.
I burned that motherfucking body and then took a hammer to what bones remained before scattering the ashes into the ocean. They can try to pin it on me all they want. I won’t lie down and let some punk ass kids take what little life I have away from me. I’m going to record every little thing I hear and see from now on. Consequences if I get caught, be damned.
“Holy fuck.” I like Austin more already. How did she end up being friends with my sister?
But my other problem is his friend Deke. He’s the only other one who knows I saw them. He wanted to shoot me right then and there, but C
ole stopped him. What will they do when they tell the others? I’m not sure, but I know I won’t quit fighting them.
“Demi?”
“Shit!” I hiss when I hear Becky’s voice shout out my name, followed by the front door shutting.
I shove all the boxes closed and push them up against the wall. Then I cram the notebook into the back of my jeans and run out of her closet. I get out into the hall and see she’s down in the grand foyer placing her purse on the glass table and a small suitcase down by her feet. Where the hell has she been?
“Demi?”
I duck and run across the walkway that overlooks the foyer and into my room. I yank the notebook from my jeans and shove it into my backpack that sits next to my bed as my bedroom door flies opens.
“I’ve been hollering at you!” she barks.
I stand straight and spin to face her. “What?”
Her blue eyes look me up and down as I breath heavily. Crossing her arms over her chest, she takes in my skinny jeans, black top, and matching heels. I never dress like this. It’s just not my thing. Not even for Seth. He doesn’t give a fuck what I wear, and I never have either. But Deke noticed. Just as I wanted him to.
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing,” I lie. “What do you want, Becky?”
She pushes her right hip out in a typical Becky stance. “Austin and I are going to take Lilly to the movies in about an hour. She told me to invite you.” She rolls her eyes.
“You’re inviting me?” I can’t hide my surprise. And why does Austin want me to go? She just saw me at her house not even an hour ago. She could be setting me up. I don’t want Becky to know I was there. Not yet. If Austin says something, I can play it off. Make up some bullshit about how I’m trying to protect Becky from Deke. Austin would believe it. I can be convincing. But my sister? Since when do I give a shit what she thinks?
If You Dare (Dare Series Book 3) Page 10
