Beg Me: A Dark High School Bully Romance

by Bella King

  Or maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll wake her up and she can see how erect she makes me. I wonder what she would do. Would her eyes grow large? Would her panties get wet? Would she try to play coy, then want to reach out and touch it?

  I’m starting to think like Blake. Truthfully, Amber probably hates me, and I can’t really blame her for that. I want to use her for all she’s worth and then leave her to the cheer squad to squash what little hope she had of fitting in at Blackstone High.

  Am I bitter? Fuck yes, I am, but I have plenty of reasons to be. My real dad was killed by some asshole in a car that costs more than all the ones in the school parking lot combined, and my life was never the same after that. The fucker got off scott-free, and now I get to be homeless or deal with Dean again. I’m not going back home, ever.

  I look back down at Amber. It’s hard to hate a woman so beautiful, but I’ve managed to push aside any initial urge to be too nice to her just because she’s pretty. I’m smarter than that. If she wants my respect at all, she’ll need to find her place amongst the poor and disadvantaged people here, which I doubt she’ll be able to do.

  My cock is horribly uncomfortable in my jeans. It’s so tempting to whip the damn thing out and relieve myself right in front of Amber. I can imagine the sweet look on her face as I shoot thick ropes of cum all over her puffy lips and cute little nose. She’d probably get wet as I painted her face with my sperm.

  One day I’ll show this uppity bitch who is the boss, but for now, I need to control myself. I grit my teeth and turn away from her, unlatching the car door and letting it swing open behind me. The air outside is already warm again, an indication of the heat to come later today. Tonight is the perfect night for a party.

  “Amber,” I bark once I step out of the car. I don’t really want to wake her up with how delicious she looks laying with her legs open like that, but I need her to get her shit together and get ready for school. I don’t want to be accused of kidnapping her.

  Amber’s eyes open quickly, like she’s in a panic. She jerks upright, looking around the car as though to figure out if last night was a dream. “What time is it?” she murmurs.

  I lean against the door frame from outside, peering inside the car at the disheveled Amber. “Probably about four or five.”

  “I need to get home,” she says, dropping to her hands and knees and crawling forward. The loose checkered shirt hangs around her neck, revealing her breasts. They swing as she crawls toward me.

  I have to look away to keep my cock from exploding out from my jeans. It’s totally unfair that her body is that perfect. I was thinking that there must be something wrong with her, but there just isn’t. She’s like an angel.

  Amber climbs out of the car as I step back. She smiles in the pale morning light, looking around the parking lot. “Good morning.”

  I chuckle. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  She nods. “Actually, yes. I think it was the weed.”

  “Must be, because that car is cramped as fuck,” I say.

  She leans back against the car and crosses her arms over her chest. The hem of the shirt rises with her motion, once again revealing the pink fabric between her pale thighs. She doesn’t seem bothered to be showing me.

  I allow my eyes to flicker downward, subtly informing her that her underwear is showing. She doesn’t do anything to hide it. I step toward her, placing my hand on the cold metal of the car and leaning in. “Are you aware that your panties are showing?” I ask.

  Amber puffs out her lips and raises an eyebrow. “What of it?”

  “You’re making my cock hard,” I reply in a deep voice.

  Her eyes travel down to my jeans, where my penis is aching to get out. It’s torture to have it contained so tightly with all the blood that’s pumping into it. I blame Amber for doing this to me, and since it’s her fault, she also has to fix it.

  Amber smirks. She fucking smirks at me! “Maybe you should give me your pants then, so I have something to wear when I walk back home.”

  “What?” I ask, recoiling. “I only have this pair.”

  “Take them off,” she says, her voice airy and mock innocent. I know she isn’t.

  “I’m not giving you my pants,” I reply flatly.

  “Then I’m going to have to walk back in just this,” she says running a hand down the checkered shirt, “And you are going to have to deal with a very uncomfortable cock.” She speaks the word cock with extra emphasis, making the “C” sound hard in her throat.

  Her words send a rush through me, making me feel cold and hot at the same time. My erection grows even more, practically screaming at me to obey her and let it out. But what would I wear instead? I can’t run around town in a pair of boxers with my erection pocking out like a flagpole.

  “Go on, take them off,” she says, tilting her head to the side. Her eyes are closed in a lazy way, and her lips are so puffy that hey look like two pink marshmallows glued to her face.

  “I don’t have anything else to wear,” I admit.

  She frowns. “Surely you have something at home.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t go home anymore.”

  “Where do you go,” she asks.

  “It’s none of your damn business. Just take my fucking pants and leave me alone,” I say unzipping them and ending her curiosity with the sudden display of my erection. It raises up out of my jeans, only separated from Amber by the loose red fabric that covers it.

  “Wow,” she breathes.

  I laugh lightly in my throat, pulling my pants down and stepping out of them. They probably smell like sweat and too many nights by the creek, but if she wants them, she can have them. I’ll tie a sweater around my waist and rob a clothing donation bin by the school for another pair.

  I thrust the dirty jeans toward Amber.

  She takes them, looking down at my erection again. “Did I do that?”

  I nod.

  “I didn’t think you found me so sexy,” she says.

  “You’re not,” I lie. “You’re just a slut.”

  She rolls her eyes and wrinkles her nose at me. “You could try being nice every once in a while.”

  “I gave you my pants, didn’t I?”

  She steps into them, pulling them up to her wide hips. They hardly fit over them, and she’s much shorter than I am. The result is awkward, but somehow, she still looks sexy in them. I can’t stand that even in a poor man’s clothes, she looks like a princess.

  Amber places her hands on her hips and shakes her head at me, as though to shame me for my raging erection. “I’ll see you later, Flint.”

  “Don’t forget about the alcohol,” I remind her. “Right after school we’re going to go get it.”

  She sighs. “Do we have to?”

  “Yes,” I reply. “That’s the deal, and we’re going to the party too.”

  “Fine,” she says dismissively, turning away.

  I cross my arms, watching her as she walks away. Her ass swings, and I swear she’s exaggerating it on purpose. She thinks she has power over me just because she can get me hard. Well, that’s not that difficult. Any cheap woman who flashes her panties at me can get me hard. It’s nothing to be proud of.

  Still, I watch her all the way to the end of the parking lot, before she disappears down the sidewalk, biting my lip and watching her perfect body disappear from view. She may think she has control of me, but I’m going to show her just how little I respect her. The party tonight is going to be the night of my life.

  Chapter Eleven

  Amber

  This isn’t a good look, arriving back home in the early morning wearing a man’s clothing. My mother is going to murder me in cold blood once she realizes where I’ve been all night. I wonder if she called the police already, or if she even realized that I was gone.

  “Amber Lowell!”

  I freeze in the doorway at the sound of my mother’s voice. She sounds pissed, and I figured she would be. I turn my head to see her standing up fr
om a chair in the living room in a black robe. “Where the fuck were you last night?”

  “Mom,” I reply in a pleading tone.

  “No excuses, young woman, and what in the hell are you wearing?” She squints her eyes as she comes toward me.

  “My clothes got wet. I got caught in the rain,” I blurt.

  “You were out with some boy, weren’t you?”

  “No,” I say, but that’s a lie. I just don’t want her to know that I slept in my car with Flint. She wouldn’t understand.

  “I didn’t raise a skank, Amber,” she snarls.

  “I’m not a skank. Mom, I was caught in the rain after school and I got stuck,” I try to reason.

  She shakes her head full of blonde curls. “You were out hoeing around with the neighborhood thugs, weren’t you?”

  Ever since her divorce, she’s despised men. I assumed she would get over it eventually, but now she expects me to be a virgin my whole life. She’s changed, and not for the better. In some ways, I feel sorry for her, but in others, I can’t say I blame my father for wanting to get away. She can be a real bitch sometimes.

  I start toward the stairs, done talking to her. I still have to shower, change, and get the hell out of here to head back to school. I don’t want to be held up all morning because I don’t have my car to get back with. I’ll probably already be late, since it’s around six, and school starts at eight. The walk is two hours.

  “Where are you going? I’m not done talking to you,” my mother shouts, but I’m done talking to her. I dash up the stairs and slam my bedroom door shut.

  Inside my room, I can still hear her shouting, but I don’t pay her any mind. Our relationship has already been ruined by the divorce, and she has shown her true colors. Everyone wishes to control me, and she’s no exception. It’s time I take my life into my own hands.

  I strip off the clothes that Flint gave me, haphazardly tossing them to the dirty carpet at my feet. I need to take a shower, but the thought of more water beating down on my skin sickens me. Still, I don’t want to smell like a wet dog at school, especially not since I’m supposed to go to a party right afterward.

  As I turn the knob on the shower, I wonder what Flint thinks of me. He’s fascinated by me, and undoubtably attracted to me, but he seems to have a real problem with the fact that I used to be rich. Well, rich might be a stretch, and it technically wasn’t my money at all. That’s why I’m poor now.

  Would Flint understand if I explained my situation to him, or would he laugh it off and make a crude comment about my body again? He seems to have plenty of problems at home too, but they’re obviously worse than mine if he lives on the streets now. It’s a shame someone as clever and handsome as him is in such a shit situation.

  Of course, I feel sorry for him, even though I shouldn’t. He’s a bully, and he wants to control me, but I’ll have the upper hand if I can slay him with my charm. That’s how it works, right? The beautiful and kind woman tames the beast, and they all live happily ever after. I guess I’m not too old for fairy tales, because part of me still believes it’s possible.

  I step into the hot water, thoughts of Flint floating through my mind. I know he was staring at me while I slept. He takes every opportunity to look at my body, but last night I let him do it. Perhaps that was risky, but I had the urge to do it anyway. Something about him stirs an emotion inside of me that I can’t quite pinpoint. Is it lust, or something else?

  Vanilla bean aroma drifts thought the steamy air as I rinse off the grit of last night. Someone ought to buy that man a new pair of jeans, because my legs are gross from wearing the pair that I made Flint give me.

  I imagine what he would look like in a suit. Damn, too good. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off him. He wouldn’t really fit in at my old school, what with his tattoos and muscular body, but he would look incredibly sexy wearing something nicer than what he wears now.

  Of course, part of his charm is his rugged look. I guess I shouldn’t wish that away. He smells good too, like the devil went on a walk through an oak forest. How can he be homeless and smell that nice? He’s the epitome of masculinity, and quite honestly, it scares me how easily he pulls it off.

  I finish my shower and step back out into the unforgiving chill of my bathroom. Everything in this stinking trailer is cold because it’s chilly outside. We might as well be living outdoors. I bet that once the summer heat really begins to roll in that this trailer will be like an oven. God, I need to get out of this place.

  I scrub myself dry with a rough cotton towel, wincing as it goes over the bumps and bruises from the day before. I don’t feel that bad now, but my bottom lip is still swollen, and I’m covered in bruises. As long as I wear pants and long sleeves, nobody will see them. My own mother didn’t even seem to care that I was beat up, which says a lot about her priorities.

  I gather up Flint’s dirty clothes and shove them into my bookbag, getting dressed for school as quickly as I can afterward. Instead of going downstairs to face my mother again, I open the window to the roof, jumping down from the second floor of our two-story trailer onto the soggy ground.

  I land with a squish and a thud, but the fall is so short that I think I could climb back up through my window if I really wanted to. The trailer isn’t all that tall for having two levels, and my room is right above a storage area, so it doesn’t have to be lifted quite so high as it normally would.

  I shrug my bookbag higher on my shoulders, running my thumbs beneath the straps as I start the long walk to school.

  Yesterday seems like so long ago considering everything that has happened since the bathroom beating, but I’m still out to get revenge on the cheerleading squad for making my life more hellish than it has to be. They’re my priority once I return, but I still don’t know what I’m going to do to them. I don’t think Flint is going to be much help in the matter, but if I charm him the right way, he might assist me if things get ugly again.

  The heat of the day is already beginning to grace me as I walk the long road to Blackstone High. Cars whizz by me, blurred by their speed despite the speed limit being only 30MPH on this road. Nobody cares to follow the law here, especially not rebellious high schoolers rushing to school after downing an energy drink and eating a packet of beef jerky.

  Speaking which, I haven’t eaten anything. I was so caught up the terror that is my life now, that I’ve starved myself for the past twelve hours. I’ll still have to wait until lunch to eat, since I’m not going back home now.

  My stomach growls, telling me what I already know, but I trudge on down the broken sidewalk toward the school. My legs feel stronger now than they did coming back yesterday, and I should be able to make it to school without missing any major classes.

  My first of the day is history, which nobody cares about. We’re not expected to learn much, only listen to the teacher drone on about pre-colonization America, not that he would know anything about it. He just reads from an outdated textbook for an hour and calls it a lesson.

  Zoned out, I don’t see what’s ahead of me on the sidewalk until I nearly step on it. I jump back, startled, and clutch my chest.

  Jesus, what is that thing?

  “Oh,” I mutter, realizing what it is.

  I bend down, poking the soggy hoodie that’s practically molded into the sidewalk after the rainstorm last night. I dropped it last night on my way back to the school. It weighed about a thousand pounds with all that water in it.

  I’m about to stand up and continue on my way when I remember the angel pendant that I took from my car. I put it in my hoodie pocket and didn’t think to take it out again when I shrugged off the soggy garment during the storm. How could I be so careless?

  The fabric is still cold and wet, covering my hand in water and flecks of dirt from the sidewalk as I rummage inside of the pocket. My heart begins to beat faster once I realize that there’s nothing inside. I pull the hoodie up, shaking it while holding it as far away from my body as possible. Nothing but dir
ty water falls from the soaked fabric.

  “Fuck,” I exclaim, dropping the hoodie with a sickening splat on the ground. I lost the pendant that my dad gave me.

  Where could it have gone?

  I look around, my eyes scanning the cracks and grooves of the speckled pavement in search for the golden glint of the necklace. There’s nothing nearby, only rocks and twigs that snapped from the trees during the storm. The angel is gone.

  I ball my fist, cursing again under my breath. Already, I can feel myself being lowered to the gruff and trashy standards of the people who live in this town. I never used to use such bad language, and in my eyes, everything could be easily replaced. Now, I’d throw fists over that necklace, and I’m cursing like a sailor because of its disappearance.

  I want to punch something, but there’s nothing nearby to punch. I should aim for that bitch Edyth’s face once I get back to school. If I catch her alone, I’m going to pile all of my frustrations out on her and get her back twice as hard as she got me. I’m not playing nice anymore. That pendant was the last straw.

  I charge forward, leaving the hoodie behind as I finish my walk toward the school. Today, someone is going to see a side of me that I’ve never shown. Hell, I never even thought I had it in me to hurt someone, but you can only push someone so far before they snap.

  Chapter Twelve

  Flint

  “Hey bro,” Blake says the second I walk into Blackstone High.

  I raise my head. “What’s up, buddy?”

  “You’re in a good mood,” he replies, seemingly taken aback. I guess I can be a bit grumpy in the morning, but I was blessed with a killer view of Amber in the early hours of the day and the promise of alcohol tonight, so I have no reason to be sour.

  “We’re set for the party, by the way. I have someone who can supply the booze,” I tell him.

  Blake, digs around in his pocket, pulling out a chain with some sort of pendant swinging from the end. “Dude, I was about to say the same thing.”