Hate Struck: (Maddison High School Book 1)

by Nikki Ashton

  Hesitantly she moved a little to the middle of the seat, not much, but enough for me to let out a breath and feel the tension ebb a little.

  “So?”

  “So what?” she asked.

  “So why haven’t you danced for a while? Why does the dance teacher think you need to get fit?”

  As we turned into the estate where she lived, the lamplight lit up her features and she was biting on her bottom lip as she stared straight ahead through the windscreen.

  “Things got in the way,” she said quietly. “I just didn’t have time.”

  She swallowed and placed a hand against her slim neck. My fingers twitched on the wheel, wanting to stroke along her pale skin. The need to touch her was getting stronger every time I saw her.

  “And now you do?”

  She smiled and let out a long sigh. “Something like that.”

  She wasn’t telling me everything, I could see it in the way she eyed me warily. The fact that she was lying, hiding something from me, caused the blackness in my soul to make an appearance. It was like her lie had broken the dam I’d made to keep it away and inch by inch the hate slowly began to seep back in, soaking up any positivity. I wanted to know why she’d stopped dancing. It was something huge, something big enough to make her not want to do the one thing that brought that beautiful smile to her face.

  “So, what made you so busy you couldn’t dance?” I asked.

  Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know, just stuff. Why are you so interested anyway?”

  “Just trying to be friendly.”

  She huffed and shifted her backpack closer to her chest. “You’re never friendly. Not to me, not to any girl at school.”

  “Someone is salty today. After I gave you a lift home too.”

  “Yeah well, I’m still undecided why you felt the need to offer,” she replied.

  I chanced a glance at her and was met with narrowed, speculative eyes. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her bag as if it was a life jacket and it would save her life, while one hand was hidden up the arm of her jumper.

  “What’s wrong with your wrist?” I asked. “Why’s your hand always up your sleeve?”

  I heard her gasp and from the corner of my eye saw her pull her legs up closer to the seat. As the traffic slowed, I turned to look at her and saw her whole body was stiff and rigid. Her shoulders were hunched almost up to her ears and she was staring out of the window looking up at a white Range Rover Evoque next to us. The driver must have sensed her looking and turned to face us. He was about our age and obviously liked what he saw in Sarah because he waved from what was probably ‘mummy’s car’ and gave a smile that as a lad I knew meant only one thing.

  “Arsehole,” I said and revved my engine.

  “You see.” Sarah sighed. “You hate everyone. He was only being friendly.”

  “Yeah because he wants to get into your knickers, Sarah.” I spat out her name and then flipped the finger to the dick in the Evoque when the traffic started to move.

  “Why do you say my name like that?” Her voice was quiet and tentative. The leather of her seat squeaked as she moved around in it.

  “Like what?”

  “Like it’s a curse word, or you get a nasty taste in your mouth whenever you say it.”

  I turned and grinned at her. “Not sure what you’re talking about.”

  She let out a long breath but didn’t respond. I sneaked a glance at her and when I saw her tits heave up and down my dick twitched in my jeans.

  What the fuck was it about this girl that had my head in such a mess. One minute I wanted to fucking crush her, break her and stop that brave act she tried putting on. The next minute I wanted to pull her against me and kiss her until she moaned out my name and begged me to fuck her.

  At this moment, in the confines of my car, I wanted to do the latter. I couldn’t think of anything other than stripping her of her clothes and worshipping every inch of her pale, naked skin.

  “The thing is, Sarah,” I said, repeating her name softly and sweetly. “You interest me a great deal.”

  “No,” she replied with a little quake in her voice. “There’s nothing remotely interesting about me. You should just keep your focus on the other girls at school.”

  “Maybe, I don’t want to,” I muttered, not sure if I wanted her to hear me or not.

  She heard me. “Well, I certainly don’t want your attention, so just leave me alone.” She was being petulant and sounded a lot like Lori when Roger wouldn’t let her eat sweets before dinner.

  “Where would be the fun in that?” I asked, loving that she was most definitely feeling uncomfortable with the way the conversation was headed. “It’s so much more entertaining making you squirm.”

  Her leg bobbed up and down and she grew fidgety. If it wasn’t because I was getting to her it would be irritating and fucking piss me off, but her actions just made realise she might want me just as much as I wanted her.

  I didn’t want her like I wanted Mackenna or Alannah, or any one of the other girls I’d had. They were quick and mostly unsatisfying one night, one-time only hook ups. Her though, the tiny girl who wanted everyone to think she was brave, the one who constantly shook like a leaf in the January wind, she made me feel like I was drunk. When I was around her, my head swam and my body lurched through each moment of the day desperate to see her; desperate to play with her.

  Desperate to see her; desperate to save her.

  “Drop me here.” Her words were harsh and they pierced the stifling air within the car.

  I peered through the windscreen to see we were still on the edge of the estate where she lived.

  “Nope,” I growled. “I told you it’s dark and I’m taking you home.”

  “I don’t want you to. Now pull over.”

  Sarah’s voice cracked as she slapped a flat palm against the dash and then drew in a breath that sounded like it was tattered and torn at the edges with fear.

  I slammed on the brakes, having no desire to deal with Sarah having a breakdown in my car. As soon as I pulled on the handbrake, her door flew open. She moved to jump out but was still buckled in.

  “Shit,” she muttered and snatched at the belt.

  When she finally managed to unbuckle it, she let it shoot back with force so that it smashed against the door.

  “Hey,” I cried. “Watch my fucking car.”

  Sarah didn’t answer but practically threw herself onto the pavement. She stumbled and had to put her hand down onto the concrete to stop herself from falling. As she lurched forward, her feet caught up in her bag and despite all her efforts, she face-planted the floor.

  “Fuck.” I unbuckled my own belt, got out of the car, and ran around the front to reach her.

  “Leave me alone,” she spat out.

  I knelt next to her and placed my hand on her arm. “I only want to fucking help you.” I didn’t wait for her to answer but put my other hand at her waist and hauled her up with me as I stood.

  When she was upright, she winced and turned her hand over to study it.

  “Are you bleeding?” I asked as I peered down. In the darkness I couldn’t see any blood but could make out a graze along the surface of her palm.

  My hand was still at her waist and I could feel how tiny she was. In fact, all of her was small. Her height, her waist and her arms, but she wasn’t thin like I’d expected her to be. I could feel muscle in her bicep and my hand at her waist rested against the curve of a hip.

  “Ouch.” She poked at the pad of her hand, hissing with her touch.

  “You need some antiseptic and a plaster.”

  Sarah looked up at me through long, sweeping lashes that curled at the ends, and my whole fucking body wanted to sigh with appreciation.

  “I’m fine.” She turned to pick up her backpack. “I’ll walk from here.”

  As she took a step away from me, I felt a swell of anger build in my chest like a tidal wave. She was fucking stubborn and her need to challenge me suddenly wasn�
��t so enticing. I had told her that I was taking her home and she needed to respect that. I growled out her name and she stopped, pulling her shoulders back.

  “Leave me alone.”

  I hesitated for a moment and wondered whether to demand she get back into the car, but something about Sarah Danes and her fucking attitude told me that I would have my day with her, but it probably wasn’t today.

  “Fine, fucking walk, if you have any clue where you’re going.”

  “I’ll-I’ll call my mum if I need help.”

  She breathed out the words as though she was trying them for size; saying them tentatively in case they hurt her. When I didn’t respond but simply continued to watch her, Sarah carried on walking away.

  I was almost at my car door when I did a stupid thing and looked back to see she was hobbling a little and cradling her hand close to her chest.

  “For fuck’s sake.” I started to jog towards her. “Sarah wait!”

  She looked over her shoulder and shook her head before taking one more slow, unsteady step.

  “You’re so fucking stubborn,” I grunted.

  “Leave me alone, Adam. I’m fine.”

  “You’re hobbling and your hand is hurt. Just get your arse back in my car.”

  She ignored me and continued to move further away from me, but as I watched her go, with her shoulders slumped and a slight limp to her step, a hand reached into my chest and punched me from the inside out. Its power urged me forward; towards her.

  What the hell was she doing to me?

  All the hatred I used to push me through each day, the blackness that helped to focus my brain, faded away when she was around. It came like waves; high and dangerous until they hit the shore and then ebbed away slowly. Sarah Danes was my shoreline.

  “Sarah.” I reached out a hand. “Just stop.”

  She swung around and when I looked at her face, I saw fat tears at those damn lashes of hers. I didn’t know how she did it but one look from her and all my need to hurt her disappeared. She was already in pain and I had the strangest feeling in my gut. I looked at her and my fingers itched and twitched, and warmth like that from the sun heated my skin.

  I felt tortured and messed up. My feelings for this girl changed every minute, every second, and I had no fucking clue what I was supposed to do, or who I was supposed to be around her.

  A tear crept from Sarah’s eye and slid down the apple of her cheek. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. “I can’t be the next person that you crucify, Adam. I’ve had enough.”

  Enough?

  I hadn’t even started, she’d had nowhere near enough, but that wasn’t what I wanted, not at that moment.

  “I just want to go home. Let me go home.”

  I shook my head, no.

  “I’ll stay out of your way, please just leave me alone.”

  I shook my head again and Sarah stomped her foot in frustration, but I didn’t answer. I was too busy listening to her breathing and watching her lips as they parted slightly with each inhalation.

  My fingers itched and twitched.

  The need was too great, I couldn’t stop myself any longer. I pulled her to me, lacing my fingers in her hair and wrapping an arm around her waist. Without any thought other than I had to taste her, my mouth smashed against hers. My breath mingled with her breath. My body moulded against her body. My heart thumped in time with hers.

  I kissed her and when Sarah Danes opened her mouth to allow my tongue in, when she kissed me back, like grains of sand in a timer, some of my pain slipped away and I hated her just that that little bit more for it.

  16

  Sarah

  I felt more alive than I had done in over a year. As Adam’s tongue touched mine, he pulled me closer to his body and all the parts of me that had been long dead woke up and tingled with a slow sense of excitement and pleasure.

  Desperate for more, I pushed onto my tiptoes and gasped against his mouth. His hand trailed from my waist to my bum, urging me to remove any inch of space between us. I felt his hardness in his jeans and all I could think about was that it was for me; I had made him feel like that.

  He kissed me like it was going to be his last action on earth and I felt bold and empowered. I didn’t feel scared or want to hide my face so his mouth wouldn’t find mine. Every emotion that a kiss had evoked in the past disappeared with each stroke of Adam’s tongue.

  Wanting Adam like I’d never wanted anything in my life before, my fingertips clutched at his suede Trucker jacket, gripping it tight and pulling him towards me despite the fact that almost every part of both our bodies were already pressed together like two halves of a vice.

  There was no fear passing through my veins, only euphoria.

  I didn’t taste bitterness on my lips, only sweetness.

  I didn’t want to die at his touch, I wanted to live for more.

  “Fuck, Sarah,” Adam groaned and picked me up with my legs wrapped around his waist.

  I had a sense of us moving but was too immersed in Adam to know for sure until a brick wall pressed against my back. He pinned me tight and a slight burn flared as he thrust his hard, jean covered dick upwards and hit me right where I needed it.

  I moaned and my knickers grew damp as my pleasure amped up. Adam thrust again and groaned as one of his hands left my bum and moved between us. His fingers fumbled for the button of my jeans and for a split second I froze.

  “What?” Adam asked against my mouth. “You don’t want this?”

  I could let my past rule my life. I could allow it to put me on a path that would only see me seeped in misery for the rest of my time on earth, or I could push it behind me, chase away the fear and let myself feel.

  “Yes, I want this.”

  There were no thoughts of how he would treat me afterwards, no worry that I would become one of those girls like Alannah and Amber. Greed and hunger made me unconcerned with the consequences. I’d dealt with worse and I could deal with whatever punishment Adam Hudson chose to give me for allowing him to have me.

  “You drive me fucking mad,” he said as he deftly undid my button and pulled down my zip. “So, fucking mad.”

  I smiled against his mouth, gasping for air as his hand snaked down into my knickers and a long finger slowly stroked me.

  “I know for a fact,” I panted. “That’s not a good mad. It’s a bad mad, a mad that makes you want to make me suffer.”

  “Absolutely,” he said with a smirk, pushing a finger in, “right.” Adam then pushed a second finger inside of me and began to pump them in and out in time with the rhythm his hips had started.

  I gripped his shoulders for purchase and rode his hand as he went back to kissing me. With his mouth on mine and his fingers inside of me, all my inhibitions flew away on the cusp of my bliss and I moved my hands from his hair to the crotch of his jeans and rubbed him.

  “Shit.”

  Adam pulled his mouth from mine and let his head drop back. His mouth parted on a gasp, his eyes were closed, and his chest heaved rapidly as I undid his jeans and slipped my hand inside his boxer briefs. He was like steel; as hard and as smooth as it. His dick was warm to the touch and when I trailed my thumb over the end, I could already feel his pre cum. I spread it over the head and then gently pulled down before pushing back up, repeating it slowly. Every stroke up, I matched it with a stroke of my tongue against his and every stroke down I sucked on his bottom lip.

  It was hard to concentrate on my own orgasm while I was trying to please Adam and I knew he sensed it because he moved his mouth away from mine.

  “You get yours first,” he growled and started to pump his fingers harder, adding his thumb to rub against my clit.

  It wasn’t long before the rush of warmth washed over my entire body and the pulsing which had started between my legs, fanned out until even my skin felt like it had its own fast and thudding heartbeat.

  “Oh my God,” I cried, only for Adam to muffle it with another searing kiss that prolonged the sensa
tion taking over my body.

  Adam’s mouth moved to my neck and sucked it hard, while his hand grabbed my wrist and pushed it against his hard on. He needed his own release now I’d had mine, so I began to pump his dick while still riding out the gentle decline of my orgasm on his hand.

  “Slow down,” he gasped, resting his forehead against mine.

  I watched him carefully and did as he requested, changing the pace of my movement. Up and down I went, breathing heavily and looking into his eyes, daring him to punish me for what we’d done. My eyes telling him that I didn’t care what he chose to do because in that moment anything would be worth the way he’d made me feel.

  As Adam’s breathing sped up, I couldn’t help but increase the speed of my strokes, but when he flexed his body and I felt his perfect, high, tight bum tense beneath my calves wrapped around him, I knew he was about to come too.

  Two more stokes and with a kiss that was soft and gentle, he came, blowing his load over his stomach and my hand with a cry that almost sounded anguished. Instantly, his hand in my hair loosened and fell to my waist as he slowly pulled the other from my jeans and blew out a breath. His eyes were hooded, so I had no clue what was written in them. I didn’t know whether there was regret, hatred or satisfaction showing in them. Adam Hudson gave nothing away and I would have to wait to find out my fate.

  “You okay?” he finally asked as he slowly dropped my legs.

  They felt like jelly and as my feet hit the concrete and I wobbled a little. His hand came out to my elbow to steady me and I breathed out a sigh, mostly of relief but also a little contentment too.

  I’d been intimate with someone and it hadn’t been painful or petrifying. I’d done something I hadn’t thought I’d ever be capable of; I’d allowed a boy, a man, to touch me. I didn’t feel dirty or ashamed even though this boy, this man, had the ability to make me feel regretful with a simple look or action.

  “I have wet wipes in my backpack,” I said as I looked down at his stomach.