by Mae Doyle
Trophy
High School Bully Romance
Kennedy Academy 3
Mae Doyle
Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
This is a work of art/fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events, or places is purely coincidental. Any persons appearing on the cover image for this book are models and do not have any connection to the contents of this story.
All characters depicted in this work are unrelated consenting adults. This author assumes no responsibility for the use/misuse of this material.
© 2020 Mae Doyle
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Chapter 1
Nora
It’s been a week since the whole school pushed around me chanting.
“Pop! Her! Cher-ry! Pop! Her! Cher-ry!”
I swear, I can still feel their hands on me as they tried to keep me from running into the school, and their cries are just as loud in my ears now as they were when they were chanting and screaming at me. I’d hidden from everyone in the art room, crouched back behind Mrs. Carlson’s desk, until the school shut down.
Then I left her room, shutting the door carefully behind me. The click was loud in the empty hallway and my footsteps echoed as I made my way through the deserted building, to the front entrance, and then outside. There was only one truck parked in the lot.
Even now, I’m surprised that Teague waited for me. It would have been easier for him to wipe my virginal blood off of his dick and head home or to Robby’s for a beer, but he was there, and he drove me to his house, even though neither of us spoke the entire way.
I like it like that. I can survive the rest of my time here at Kennedy Academy as long as I don’t have to try to talk to anyone or pretend to be friends with them. Even Jade, who I thought was my friend, has been avoiding me like the plague. I haven’t seen her wearing a classy Nora Barfing t-shirt, but that doesn’t mean that her betrayal stings any less.
In fact, the way that she looks at me when she’s talking to her other friends makes it sting even more. It just reminds me how much of an outsider I really am at Kennedy Academy. I’m never going to belong here or fit in with these people, and right now I don’t care.
It’s 7 pm on a Friday night, which means that Teague really should be heading out with his friends right now to sink his dick into some fresh pussy, but I just heard the shower click off down the hall, so maybe he’s staying in. It shouldn’t matter to me, not after what happened last week, but I care.
Dammit, I care. I know that I saw something in him – something redeemable – but now, the more that I search for it, the deeper he retreats into himself. He’s even more dark and brooding than he was when I first moved in, which seems impossible. I’m done searching for whatever morsel of good may be left in him. Teague Ward is rotten to the core, and I don’t want to be anywhere near him when he finishes rotting.
Even knowing that he’s bad and that I should avoid him, I open my door, peeking down the hall, hoping against hope to catch a glimpse of him. I can’t stop thinking about what it felt like to have his cock fill and stretch me. Whenever he catches my eye at the dinner table or across the classroom, I feel like my body is going to melt from the heat of my burning face. I can’t keep a straight face around him and I certainly can’t help the way my body keeps longing for his touch.
My body is a damn traitor.
He knows me in a way that nobody ever has before, and that gives me the chills. Footsteps coming up the stairs make me jerk my head back into my room and carefully shut the door, but I haven’t even made it to my bed to sit down when there’s a sharp rap on the wood.
“Come in.” I know that it has to be Mrs. Ward. She’s been wandering around the house all afternoon and evening since we got home from school. Obviously, something has upset her, and it’s not like her to avoid problems. She likes to face them head-on, like her son.
The door swings open and she fills the space. Even though she’s slender and pumped full of Botox, she’s still more commanding than most women I know. Without acknowledging me, she strolls into the room pausing to glance at the easel I have set up by the window.
It’s a good painting, and I know it. The bright colors of the flowers are a gorgeous contrast to the dark storm clouds moving in. I started working on it shortly after I moved in here. Normally I like to speed through paintings, but I wanted to spend more time on this one, and my hard work shows. I love the play of the colors and how I managed to capture the shapes of the different plants. It’s based off of her garden, but if she can tell that, she doesn’t give any indication. If anything, her eyebrows pinch together tighter before she turns to look at me.
Taking a deep breath and drawing herself up to her full 5’ 3”, she sneers before speaking. “Nora,” she says, my name sounding painful in her mouth, “I think that it’s high time that I take you shopping. You simply can’t continue to live with us if you dress like…this.” When she waves her hand at me to encompass my outfit, I can’t help but chuckle a little, but the look on her face shuts me up.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” I feel like they’re one of the only things that help me stand out at Kennedy Academy. Sure, some of the stains from the food students threw at me last Friday haven’t all come out, but I don’t care, so why should she?
She sniffs. “Because what you’re wearing is reflecting badly on me. And Teague. You know how important it is for him to make it back on the football team and also to have a chance at getting into a good college. I don’t know what your goals are for after graduation, and I don’t care,” she adds quickly, when I open my mouth to answer, “but while you’re living under my roof, you’ll conform to how I want you to dress. And act.”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and count to five, but when I open them, she’s still there. “Fine,” I tell her, clipping the word off short, “let’s go shopping. It sounds like an absolute blast. But you should know that I like to shop at Goodwill. Mall prices are simply too high for me.”
“Money’s not an object.” She waves her hand in the air dismissively. “I just can’t have someone living here who looks like a street urchin.” Taking a sniff in the air, she adds, “and sometimes smells like one, too. Why don’t you shower, Nora, and come down for dinner?”
“I’d rather not. Gotta maintain my girlish figure, you know.” Lifting up my shirt and patting my stomach makes me smile, especially when her eyes widen and she steps back.
“You’re skin and bones, Nora. I can’t have people thinking that I’m starving you. Shower and come down for dinner. That’s an order.” She turns and leaves my room, her perfume a thick cloud that makes me gag as she sweeps out of my space.
“You’re all skin and bones, Nora,” I mock, standing up and stretching. “We simply can’t have you reflect badly on us as the royal family of Blacksburg. Whatever will our subjects think?” I make my voice as high and nasally as possible, chuckling to myself.
“I’d love to hear your impression
of me.” Teague’s voice cuts through my thoughts and I whip around to see him leaning on my doorframe.
Shit.
He has a white fluffy towel wrapped low around his hips, showing off his perfect V and great abs. It’s obvious that he works out regularly, and even though he’s benched from the football team, he hasn’t let that stop him from hitting the gym. His skin is a gorgeous bronze and his dark eyes are trained right on me.
Swallowing hard, I force my eyes up from his towel. I know what he has hidden under it, and I also know that it’s entirely off-limits. There’s no way that I’m going to sleep with Teague Ward again. Ever. Not after what he did to me last week. Not after how he let everyone torment me.
I’d be convinced that he hadn’t really deleted the pictures of us having sex if I wasn’t still getting called a frozen virgin at school. Bethany leads the chant as I walk down the hall every morning and nobody has the guts to stop her. Not her friends, and certainly not the girl I thought was my friend.
“If I had to do an impression of you, I’d first have to sell my soul to the devil. I know that you have him on speed dial, so why don’t you go ahead and give me his number?” I’m taunting him, but I don’t care. This is the most conversation that we’ve had since last week.
Since the woods.
He laughs, one hand still holding up his towel. “Newsflash, Nora, the devil is a woman. Obviously.” He runs his eyes down my body and grins, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, well, then, I’ll just go downstairs and talk to her. No biggie. Thanks for the tip.” I could be across the room in an instant, tugging his towel down and letting it drop to the floor. There’s just a tiny bit of fluffy cloth between the two of us, but I don’t have to leave it there. The thought that I could easily strip him down thrills me, but not like it would have last week.
His eyes darken as if he can tell that I’m thinking about him naked, but there’s one thing that he just doesn’t know. I don’t want to see Teague naked. Hell, I don’t want to see him at all. All I want to do is destroy him and hurt him the way that he hurt me.
Knowing that he’s kicked off of the football team if they can win without him is a good start, but it’s not enough. I’ve been planning what I’m going to do to get to him for a week now. His mom wanting to take me shopping will only help to speed things up, especially since I won’t have to pay for anything.
Nothing like being a bit of an embarrassment to get some special treatment around here.
Standing, I walk to him and then slide by him, making sure that I don’t accidentally rub my body up against his. My skin is crying out to feel his hands on me again, but I know how quickly I’ll slip down a path I don’t want to take if I do that.
The road to hell isn’t paved with good intentions. It’s paved with spending time with Teague and letting him get under my skin. The more time I spend alone with him, the more likely it is that I’m going to slip up and let him in. He’s already cracked me. I can’t let him break me apart.
No, it’s best to keep my distance as much as possible. Teague may have claimed the title of the hunter, but I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. No matter how much my body wants to betray me, I have to keep my head on straight.
If I’m going to make it out of Kennedy Academy and this hell house alive then I need to watch my back.
Teague
If Nora smells, it’s not the rank odor that my mother is pretending that she has. Nora smells like paint and fear, a combination that gets me hard whenever I’m around her. Fuck. I shouldn’t be letting my dick have control of me when I’m with her or I’m just going to get into trouble.
I had a chance to make things right with Nora last Friday and I waited too long. Now she thinks that I hate her, which I should. I should hate her and want to destroy her like I did before, but something’s holding me back. If only I could get her to see that I’m not as bad as she thought…
Fuck that. I am as bad as she thought. She wants to act all high and mighty and pretend like she’s better than me after I got her virginal blood on my cock? We’ll see about that.
She stalked past me down the hall, leaving me in the open door of her room, which is a rookie mistake if I’ve ever seen one. Glancing behind me to make sure that the bathroom door really is shut, I walk into her room, taking my time to look around.
I haven’t come in here since she moved in. Sure, I’ve peeked in the door when she wasn’t around, but I felt like her space was off-limits. Now, though? Now I’m determined to make Nora bend to me. She could have had it all, but she threw it away when she wouldn’t come back to me last Friday.
There’s nothing out in the open that looks like it would be fun to look at. No journal or diary. No notes from class that I could slip out of her book. Pausing for a moment, I let my eyes slide across her easel. The painting that she’s working on isn’t half-bad, except that it’s painted by her. I hate that she has any talent. My talent is all on the football field, but she’s done an incredible job capturing the irises and hydrangea currently blooming.
I step closer, taking my time, still holding my towel tight around my waist. There’s some incredible detail in the painting, and I want to see more. Bending down, I lean forward, noticing how she added a rosebush to the painting, making the thorns really stand out.
“See anything you like?” Her voice is dry and level, but I can hear the anger seething just below the surface. It’s boiling in her and I’m half tempted to see what would happen if she actually allowed it to boil over.
Standing, I turn around, cracking a smile at her. “There’s nothing in this room that I like. Not before you walked in, and not after.”
Her hands clamp into fists. Her towel is wrapped tight under her armpits, her long hair dripping on the floor. She must have just had the fastest shower in the history of the world, and I wonder if she hurried because she knew that she left me alone in her room. My mom will shit bricks if she doesn’t wipe the water up from our floor, but it’s almost like she doesn’t even notice that she’s dripping. Our hardwood floors are all original to the house and my mom would die rather than think that they were damaged.
“Get away from my painting.” Slowly she walks to me, her bare feet silent on the floor. I cock my head and watch her but don’t move.
“This painting? Looks like a fucking monkey did it, Nora. You sure that you want to claim it as your own?” I turn back around and look critically at it. It really is good. I normally hate paintings of flowers, but she managed to bring them to life. I’m just about to turn back around when my eyes fall on the jar of turpentine sitting next to the easel. Bending, I pick it up and unscrew the lid, taking a huge whiff.
Immediately my eyes burn and tears form at the corners. “Damn, Nora, this smells terrible. You bathe in it every night? That why you stink so bad?”
She’s frozen, watching me carelessly handle the jar. I don’t know much about painting, but I have a pretty good idea of what will do if I pour this on her canvas. Locking eyes with her, I reach my hand over to her painting, tilting the jar.
“Stop!” The panic in her voice is obvious. She’s taken another step forward, both hands out to me to try to make me hold still. “Please, stop.” Her eyes keep darting from the jar to my face.
I was right. “Something the matter, Nora? I thought that I’d add a little rain to your painting, that’s all.” I tip the jar a little more, letting the liquid splash up the side and lap at the edge of the mouth of the jar.
“No, don’t do it, Teague.” She’s not begging yet, although I hear a twinge of desperation in her voice. Nora thinks that if she’s in control then she can tell me what to do, but I have something different for her to learn. I’d much rather see her on her knees in front of me than trying to tell me what to do, but I’m still going to do whatever I want.
“Beg me.” I hold the jar of turpentine as still as possible, my eyes locked on hers. “On your knees, Nora.”
Fire flames in her eyes and I can tell that
she’s weighing the pros and cons of trying to save her painting.
“How much do you love these flowers, Nora? Enough to beg or should I just wash them away?” I give the jar a little shake and a drop of the liquid splashes out and slides down the painting, dragging color with it.
She gasps, the sound flying from her involuntarily, and steps forward to stop me, but I straighten the jar back out, the turpentine splashing dangerously. “Don’t you dare, Teague.” She looks threatening, but she and I both know that there’s nothing she can do to stop me right now.
“What are you going to do, Nora? Drop your towel and burn out my eyes?” I yawn. “It’s nothing that I’ve never seen before, so that’s a pass. Beg. Now. I don’t give a shit about your little painting.”
At first, I don’t think that she’s going to do it. She hesitates, her chest and face flushing bright red. Drops of water run down her arms and legs but she doesn’t move to wipe them away. It’s pooling around her, but finally she takes a deep breath and bends her knees, dropping to the floor in front of me.
I can’t help the fact that my cock, which was already getting hard, springs to life and starts to ache. I know what her tight little pussy feels like, and I want to bury myself in her again. Right here, right now.
But that’s not what this is about, and I know that there’s no way we can do that. She hates me and I have to make sure that she stays in her place.
“Please leave my painting alone.” Nora’s teeth are gritted and her eyes are locked on mine.
“That’s a terrible beg, Nora. You can’t do any better than that?” There’s a thrill in my chest seeing her on her knees in front of me. I bet that if I asked her, she’d suck my cock just to protect her shitty little painting.
“Teague, please. I’m begging you. Don’t ruin my painting. I worked really, really hard on it and I – ”
Her voice cuts off as I tip the jar, letting the turpentine spill out of the top and splash down the painting.
