Striker: A Dark Bully Romance (Redwood Rebels Book 1)

by Rachel Leigh

  He turns my body and positions me to his liking. “Ok, open them.”

  “Inked in Attitude? What is this? A tattoo shop?” I laugh. “It’s Thanksgiving. I highly doubt they’re open.”

  “Have you forgotten who you’re dating.” Talon smirks.

  I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks. “Oh,” I tease, “Is that what we’re doing? I thought we both agreed that we were not doing that.”

  “Well, you are living with me.” He wraps his arms around my waist, locking his hands behind my back. “And sleeping in my bed, pretty much every night. So, maybe you should stop biting my tongue and let me call you my girlfriend.”

  “For the record, my living with you is pure convenience on my behalf. Since my dad sold me to the highest bidder to keep his ass out of prison, I have no desire to go home.”

  “Just fucking say it. Don’t make me beg.”

  “I feel like such a teenager right now.” I tilt my head down to hide the blush color on my face. “Ok,” I look back up, “you can have your title.”

  His hands drop down to my ass and give it a squeeze. “Good. Because I don’t like to share. And you,” his lips press to mine, “are all mine.”

  I look up at the sign on the shop. “So, what the hell are we doing here, anyways?”

  “Waiting on Lars and Tommy. They should be here any minute.”

  “And can you tell me why?”

  “Because you're getting some ink, baby.”

  I chuckle. “Ahh, no I’m not.”

  Tommy’s car pulls up beside us and he and Lars jump out. Lars throws his arms across the hood. “You ready to do this?”

  I’m pretty sure he’s talking to me but not completely. “Me?”

  “Yeah you. You’re one of us now. You need to get branded for life.”

  Ah, the infinity symbol. I’m not sure if I should be honored or scared for my life. They say I’m one of them. That comes with more baggage then I’m ready to carry. I’ll admit, I’ve grown pretty fond of these guys. Especially the one who won’t take his hands off my ass and claims I’m his girlfriend. “Alright.” I shrug my shoulders. “Let’ do this damn thing.”

  I’m sitting in the chair, getting prepped, when Tommy whispers in my ear, “Do you trust me?”

  My eyes widen, and my heart rate excels. Every time someone asks me that something insane happens. “Should I?”

  “You definitely should.”

  Honestly, Tommy might be the one that I trust the most. Talon has it on some levels, but we’re still working on the communication aspect of things. He agreed not to leave me in the dark anymore, and I’m trying to believe him.

  “Alright. I’ll give you my trust this one time. Don’t disappoint me.”

  He pulls out his phone and shows something to the tattoo artist then looks at me. “Where do ya want it?” The big burly guy asks.

  “Depends on what it is. But, I’ve always wanted one on my wrist.”

  “Wrist it is.”

  After an hour and a half of being told that I couldn’t look to my right, the guy finally steps back. “All done.”

  The guys come over to my side, all too eager to see what I think of it. I look down at my wrist and there it is.

  “You got your wings. What do you plan to do with them?” Tommy asks, with a huge grin on his face.

  I smile back. A real, genuine smile. “Eeeek. I love it!”

  I can’t stop staring at it. It’s the angel wings that Tommy painted underneath the bleachers and, right in the middle, is the snake infinity symbol.

  “I’ll be up front. Come out when you’re ready to pay,” the artist tells us.

  Once he’s gone, Talon sits on the edge of the bed. “It’s official. You’re a Rebel. Now you get to choose what you wanna do with that honor.”

  My brows raise. “What do you mean?”

  “You get your one shot of revenge. Have anyone in mind?”

  I think about it for a minute while the guys linger over me—watching and waiting.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. But my act isn’t quite as deadly as yours. I love my dad and I don’t want him hurt. But he betrayed me. Now it’s my turn to get what I deserve. I don’t want him to know the truth. Let him think he killed Josh for awhile. In return, I want my trust fund that he plans to withhold until I’m married.”

  “You got it,” Talon quips.

  Tommy holds out his hand in front of me. “From start to finish.”

  Lars tops it with his. Followed by Talon. Then I place mine on top. “And everything in between.”

  She’s lying in bed tapping on her phone when I push her bedroom door open. Seeing her smile immediately draws a smile to my face. Ironic how just a month ago, she cringed every time that door opened.

  “How you doing?” I ask as I join her at the bed. She slides up into a sitting position and lets her phone fall to the side.

  Her shoulders shrug. “As good as can be expected.”

  “Maybe this will help.” I slope my body over hers and kiss her lips gently. I can feel her smile against my mouth and my heart pitter patters at her touch. “Is it working?”

  Her body slides down the bed until she’s on her back. “Almost, but I’m still pretty tense.”

  When I climb on top of her, her legs bend and invite me between them. Grinding against her through the fabric of our clothes, I feel my dick throb in agony. I need to feel her from the inside and make her come. Erase her worries, even if it’s just temporary.

  Skating my fingers up her shirt, she lets out a subtle moan when I pinch the bud of her nipple. “I need you, Talon.”

  With that, I sit up and take the hem of her pants in my hands and slide them down. She’s not wearing any panties so the bare skin of her pussy looks back at me.

  Pushing her thighs apart, I can see her desire for me already moistening her folds.

  When I look up at her, lust-filled eyes gaze into mine. She leans forward and begins fussing with my pants, but I push her hand away. “Not yet.”

  On my knees in front of her, I press the tip of my finger to her swollen nub and begin rubbing in a clocklike motion.

  She begins moving subtly at first, then forces her hips up to try and gain momentum. She wants these fingers inside of her so damn bad, but I need to tease her clit a little bit longer. “Take your shirt off.”

  She leans forward and pulls it over her head. Her tits pop out and greet me with hard nipples.

  Still rubbing her sex, I lean over top of her and take her right nipple into my mouth, grazing my teeth over it and giving it a gentle tug.

  Fuck, she’s so damn sexy and if I keep this shit up, I’ll be exploding before I even get my dick out of my pants. I slide two fingers inside of her but hold them in place with no movement. “Relaxed yet?”

  She chuckles. “Just fuck me, then I’ll answer your question.”

  I tsk. “You’re too tense, you need to relax.” My smirk sets her cheeks on fire and I know she’s getting pissed. She’s so wet that her arousal slides down my fingers. I begin gliding them in and out and she breathes out a sigh of relief.

  Pressing my lips to hers, I suck her bottom lip between my teeth and pump my fingers faster. Sticking my tongue inside her mouth, she tangles it with her own. Twisting and tasting, while forcing her mouth harder against mine.

  She lets out another moan with my two fingers inside of her. “I love the way you taste,” I mutter into her mouth. “Can I taste more of you?”

  When she nods, I kiss my way down her body. Her breasts, her nipples, the smooth skin of her stomach.

  I tug her belly ring between my teeth and give it a gentle pull, before making my way between her legs.

  Darting my tongue at her clit, I continue to slide my fingers in and out of her dripping wet pussy.

  Her fingers tangle in my hair, and she guides my movement. I pick up my pace and she rocks her hips as she begins riding my face. “Oh God,” she cries out in pleasure. “I’m gonna come.”

 
“That’s right, baby.” I look up at her as I shove my fingers deeper inside of her.

  Her eyes close and she lets out a strangled moan, before pooling her arousal in the palm of my hand.

  I pull out my fingers and rub aggressively over her throbbing clit causing her to shudder. Her hand slaps over mine and she thanks me with a smile.

  It’s only seconds before my sweatpants are flying over the other side of the bed. I lean forward and press my lips to hers. Just as I’m about to slide inside of her, she tugs at the bottom of my shirt. I lift my head and look into her eyes that are questioning me. I shake my head, no.

  “Do you trust me?” she asks in a muffled voice.

  “Trust has nothing to do with this.”

  “It has everything to do with it.”

  She’s already saw the scars that night in the bathroom. Not that I wanted her to. She just barged in and took matters into her own hands. This is different. To willingly take off my shirt and bare my ugly skin to another person is unnerving. It’s something I’ve never done. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve swam in a t-shirt. When the guys tore off their shirts because they were sweating, I kept mine on. Hiding the horrid marks and swearing no one would ever see them.

  But she’s seen them. And she didn’t turn up her nose or act like I was infected.

  “Just this one time,” I tell her as I slowly pull my shirt up over my head. I watch her expression the entire time. Unfazed, she pulls my face back to hers. Her fingers trail up my side and graze over the rigid bumps of my scars. Then to my back where they continue to spread like wildfire. The intensity in this moment is unfathomable. A feeling I’ve never felt before. Trusting someone with my scars—my heart. It’s frightening, but it’s also beautiful.

  I slide my dick inside of her and feel her walls collapse around me. Taking things slow, I savor every moment. When I lift my head, our eyes catch and I stare back into her baby blues while feeding her every inch of my cock.

  “Mine,” I breathe out, “all mine.” My head drops and her arms wrap around me. This is so much more than just sex with a girl. It’s passionate, intense, and completely mind-blowing. A feeling I’ve never experienced. She keeps taking me to this new high that I can’t get enough of. Dare I say, love?

  No, that’s not possible. Is it?

  With one final thrust, I lift myself up and pull out. My cock pulsates as my cum shoots all over her bare stomach.

  “And you’re all mine.” She pulls my face to hers, and our mouths collide with so much intensity that I feel like I could do this all over again, every minute, for the rest of my life.

  We get cleaned up and lie down for a minute, still completely naked, before she breaks the silence. “Any word on Zed?”

  I begin trailing my fingers up and down her stomach, watching as goosebumps cascade. “We’ll talk about that later.”

  “Please just tell me what you think about all of this.”

  “Nothing from Zed. But I’m not surprised. He’ll be in touch when he’s ready.”

  “I don’t like the waiting. I wish he’d just voice what he wants and get it over with so we can all move on.”

  Pushing myself up, my elbow presses into the mattress on her side. “I didn’t say anything before, but Zed took something from your dad’s office when we were at your house. I think it has something to do with Josh.”

  Her eyes open wider. “What kind of something?”

  “I don’t know. A piece of paper, maybe. Does your dad have any property or any place that Zed would take Josh’s body?”

  “He has property all over. And there’s the warehouse where Axel used to have his fight club. But Dad shut that place down and it’s secured with a passcode and an alarm now.”

  “That could be what he took. A paper with the passcode. It’s worth a shot to find out. We need to find his body, bury him someplace that no one knows about and destroy all evidence that connects us to Josh before Zed turns this whole thing around and buries us all.”

  “Do you think Zed did it? Killed Josh, I mean?”

  No, I don’t think Zed killed him. If he did, he wouldn’t be tampering with his body. He’d stay as far as hell away from it as he could to protect himself. No, he’s doing this because he wants power and he knows that he’s safe from incrimination.

  Someone else killed Josh. We just have to figure out who it was before Zed goes too far.

  “Anything’s possible. Right now, we can’t trust anyone but each other.”

  The End.

  Book Two of the Redwood Rebels

  series is coming soon! Preorder Heathen now!

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at Like Gravity: Talon’s sister, Blakely’s, story.

  Chapter One

  Blakely

  It’s five minutes into first period, and I still have no car keys.

  I fluff my hair in the vanity mirror one last time, my mind focused on my disobedient part-line.

  I quickly make my way downstairs.

  “Esme!” I shout, swinging around and bumping into our petite housekeeper, “Did you…” I stop when I see my keys dangling from her hand. I snatch them up and dash for the door. “I have to go.”

  I’m already on Mrs. Tate’s bad side. Not that I care much, but I would like to try and avoid another lunch detention spent studying the atmosphere.

  As for her opinion of me, that's no secret. I know that most of the staff at Redwood High think that I’m nothing but a spoiled brat.

  I learned at a young age that if you want something, then you have to fight for it, no matter what the cost. That’s how I’ve lived my life, fighting—against my so-called friends, against authority, but mostly against myself. I know what I want and I don’t let anyone get in my way.

  My life has been a series of unfortunate events that have shaped me into the person I am today. My parents throw money at me and my little brother to make us go away so that Dad can drink and work his life away, and so that Mom can feast on his wealth and social status, or whatever man bats an eye at her that week.

  On the outside, we are the essence of luxury. Our family name is well-known, but no one knows what happens when the curtains are drawn. My little brother and I have learned about life on our own, our role models not exactly exemplary.

  Slamming my locker shut as the metal meets with a creak, I walk casually to first period. I’m already late, so what’s the rush? Mrs. Tate will mark me tardy again, threatening lunch detention, and Mom will get another call interrupting her precious morning while she gossips with her stuck-up friends over coffee. Boo-fucking-hoo.

  I run my hand down the grooves of the white brick wall until I reach the spirit week graffiti, stopping to admire the beauty of all things Levi Maddox, aka my homecoming date, and also the captain of the football team. His gorgeous face looks back at me in the poster of the entire Ravens team. I smile back, but I’m interrupted by an obnoxious deep voice—one that may send butterflies quivering through the stomachs of the hormonal girls of Redwood High, but turns bile in mine.

  His jet black hair really brings out his sun kissed skin. “Ms. Porter, don’t you have somewhere to be?” Principal Somers asks, as he continues to walk through the hall.

  I fight back a groan. “Don't you have somewhere to be?” I retort with a glare. He continues to walk in the opposite direction, so I raise my voice a little louder. “Should I expect you this weekend? After all, my Dad is out of town until Sunday.” My voice echoes through the hall, and although he doesn’t respond, I know he heard me.

  Ever since I caught him sneaking out of the guesthouse two months ago, he’s been... let’s say... awkward. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Mom didn’t walk out fluffing her hair five minutes later. Principal Somers is now on a short leash.

  I walk into class, and Mrs. Tate has already started her lecture on Greek mythology.

  “Blakely, tardy again. That’s twice this month. One more and it’s lunch detention.”

  “Uh huh.” I take my seat and look o
ver to find Knox staring me down with disapproval. Knox and I have been best friends and neighbors since we were tots. He’s my person, one who knows me better than myself, despite the fact that we’re complete opposites. He’s more reserved, where I’m outgoing and loud, often embarrassing him with my assertiveness and vulgarity—yet, he remains my best friend because he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. This is the only class we have together since he’s only a junior and I’m a senior. We usually walk together, but I was running behind this morning when Esme misplaced my car keys. Well, I misplaced them, she just took too long to find them.

  “Who can tell me how many constellations there are?” Mrs. Tate asks the class, and I know damn well she’s going to call on me, simply because I haven’t started taking notes yet. “Jasper.”

  Jasper, who the hell is Jasper? I follow the direction of her stare and look directly behind me. Gorgeous, and hot as hell. He looks like trouble—like someone who could suck me in and spit me out without giving it a second thought.

  “Eighty-eight.” He responds, with his eyes still on me, an expression of annoyance plastered on his face. I take a moment to examine his sharp jawline—one that could chisel ice and still hold its perfect form, the dark hair that matches his dark eyes that probably lead to a dark soul. This is someone I have to stay far away from. He twists his face, furrowing his brows in displeasure. I turn back around and sink into my seat.

  “That’s correct.” Mrs. Tate continues, “Blakely, you could learn a thing or two from your partner.”

  “Partner,” I spit. Glancing behind my shoulder, a shit eating grin replacing his indignant look.

  My face falls into my hands, and I turn my head slightly to look at Knox. “Sorry,” I mouth.

  We had planned on partnering up for this project. Serves me right for being late. In my defense, he’s better off. I would have more than likely had him do all the work anyway.

  I can feel the air move as Jasper leans forward in his chair. “You’re a lucky girl,” He breathes into my neck.