Charming Devils: A Bully/Revenge Reverse Harem Romance

by Katie May

  “I tried to kill myself that night,” I confess, and he blanches, his face turning stark white. “It wasn’t just because of you four, though. It was everything.”

  “And then you moved to California?” he surmises, and this time, I’m the one who shakes their head no.

  “And then I was placed in a psychiatric facility just north of here.” I snort at the memories. “We talked about emotions and how did that make you feel? No one accepted my answers. They asked those questions, but when I said that I wanted to die, they told me I was wrong.”

  “You were,” Karsyn blurts, looking fearful. “Wrong, I mean. This world would be a much shittier place without you in it, Simone.” Up ahead, thunder cackles and lightning sparks across the dreary, gray sky. Karsyn extends a hand towards me as the clouds open up, once more drenching us in a downpour of icy rain. “My house is close by.”

  I hesitate, staring at his proffered hand as if I expect it to leave his wrist and crawl across the ground like something out of a horror movie. Karsyn remains standing there, patient despite the incoming storm.

  After a tense moment, I place my slippery hand into his and allow him to pull me down the street.

  I may regret this decision in the future. He may want to hurt me because of what he knows, because of what I did to him.

  But I can’t find it within me to care.

  Karsyn drives me to a cute, suburban, three-story farmhouse. I only have enough time to see fresh yellow paint, a perfectly manicured lawn, and a bike near the front entrance before Karsyn pulls me inside. I shake wildly, the frigid air causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin and numb my fingers.

  “Mom! Dad! I’m home!” Karsyn bellows. He kicks off his shoes and rips off his wet jacket. He then reaches for me and helps me remove mine as well. I take my shoes off much more gingerly than he did, hating that my sodden clothes leave a puddle in their foyer.

  Before his parents can respond, a small dog comes barreling around the corner, yipping like crazy. Her fur is a colorful combination of red, brown, black, and white. A single pink bow rests on her head, and she wears a bedazzled collar.

  “Yorkie?” I question as the playful dog runs through Karsyn’s legs.

  “Honey Pot,” he tells me before bending down and scratching behind her ears.

  “Kar? Is that Mari?” A woman comes from around the corner, wiping her hands on a yellow rag. She pauses when she catches sight of me, her green-brown eyes, almost an exact replica of Karsyn’s, widening. “Oh. Who is this?” A wide smile blossoms on her face as she hurries forward, hand extended.

  “Peony,” I introduce, staring at the woman with stunning golden hair, a dimpled grin, and rosy red cheeks. I can see the resemblance between the two of them immediately. “You must be Mrs. Alder.”

  “Please. Call me Charlotte.” Still gripping my hand, she turns her head to call out, “Michael! Come here!”

  An older gentleman with a protruding stomach, sandy-blond hair peppered with white, and a smiling face exits the kitchen a moment later. He, too, pauses when he sees me before a mischievous smile splits open his face. My eyes drift down to the faded State sweatshirt he wears, and an awkward, uncomfortable pang shoots through me. I don’t know if it’s guilt, regret, satisfaction, or a combination of all three. Hell, I can’t even tell if my desires still center around my revenge, or if I’m ready to move on with my life.

  I’ll look into all of that at a later date.

  “Well, well, well. What do we have here? Is this the ‘Peony’ you always talked about?” His wife releases me as he steps forward, tenderly taking my hand in both of his and giving it a shake. “I’m Michael.” The sly dog then turns towards Karsyn and winks. “She’s pretty.”

  “I know,” Karsyn grumbles, color rising to his cheeks as he stares at the ground.

  “Can I get you two anything to eat? A hot chocolate? You must be freezing,” his mother croons, flitting between the two of us. I bite my lip to keep from smirking when Karsyn’s blush deepens.

  “I’m actually going to take Peony upstairs to shower,” he tells them, and I watch as Charlotte and Michael exchange conspiratorial looks.

  “Shower. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Michael whispers to her in an overly dramatic, horrified stage-whisper. “Dad!” Karsyn huffs, and Honey Pot begins to bark.

  “Ignore him,” Charlotte tells me with an eye roll. “We all do.” To her husband, she says, “Let’s leave the kids alone. I want a rematch.”

  “A rematch?” Karsyn questions, amusement lacing his tone.

  This time, Michael’s the one to roll his eyes as he scoops down to pick up Honey Pot. It’s almost comical to see such a large man hold such a delicate, feminine dog. “She’s pissed because I beat her ass at Mario Kart five times in a row.”

  “And your record ends now,” Charlotte deadpans. “Because the only ass getting beat is yours. With a flogger.”

  “Oh my god.” Karsyn looks as if he wishes the ground will open up and swallow him whole. “I’ll never be able to show my face again.”

  “Nah. If what you told me is true, then this one is a keeper.” Michael nudges his son with a shit-eating smirk. “By the way, she’s even prettier in person.”

  “Actually…” Charlotte grins up at her husband. “How about we take a long, long walk and leave the two of them alone?”

  “Yes, let’s leave them alone for their ‘shower,’” Michael agrees, making air quotes with his fingers.

  “Just go.” Karsyn all but shoves his giggling parents out of the room until it’s just me and him. Once we’re alone, I turn towards him with a quirked brow.

  “So…you’ve been talking about me?” I don’t know why that thought sets a flurry of butterflies loose inside my stomach. My heart quite literally gains a set of wings and begins to fly.

  “And you’re apparently a witch, so there’s a lot we don’t know about each other yet,” Karsyn retorts with a teasing grin. His words make my own smile fade.

  “How can you be so…blasé about all of this? Most people would be in shock. Or wouldn’t believe me. Or would want to justify it however they could. How can you just—”

  “I told you,” Karsyn cuts in. “I saw what I saw. I heard what I heard. To me, there’s nothing else that needs to be said or done. Unless you’re pulling some massive prank on me—”

  “I’m not.”

  “—then you really do possess magical powers. And yes, I am fucking curious. So curious that I might just die if I don’t get answers. But I also know that you’re dripping wet, shivering, and you still don’t trust me yet.” He shrugs, and I don’t even bother to protest. He’s right. Trust is a fickle thing, a double-edged sword. You both must be willing to impale yourselves on it in order for it to work. “Now let’s warm ourselves up and then we can talk, okay?”

  Conversation tapers off as Karsyn leads me to a shower on the second floor. He grabs a fluffy towel, a pair of clean boxer briefs, and the smallest T-shirt he can find.

  “You can just leave your wet clothes in here. I’ll grab them after you’re done and put them in the dryer. Let me grab your backpack and put it in my room.” He gently takes it from me, shrugging it over his own shoulder, before nodding back towards the shower. “Here’s the shampoo and conditioner. And body wash.” Karsyn points to each item before ducking out of the room. I wait until he’s gone before locking the door, stripping out of my soaking wet clothes, and stepping beneath the blistering hot water. I make sure to turn it as high as it can go as I throw my head back, reveling in the way the water pelts my naked flesh.

  What am I going to do now?

  Karsyn now knows the truth, as does Elias and Lucas. And with the Bloods sniffing around, that’s immensely dangerous.

  I finger the necklace I still have on, feeling the power vibrating through it.

  Karsyn will want answers, but how much do I give him? The last thing I want is to inadvertently put him into harm’s way because he knows too much. The
witch’s council has very strict rules about who can know our secrets. Only spouses are guaranteed protection. Or blood bonds, similar to the connection between a familiar and a witch.

  As long as the three of them remain quiet, we shouldn’t have any issues.

  At the same time, they’re teenage boys. What if they blurt the truth out when they’re drunk at some girl’s party? What if they get pissed at me again? What if they decide once more to target me? This time around, they’ll have actual ammo in their arsenal capable of inflicting maximum damage. I’m putting all of my trust into the words, “I’ve changed.” But have they? Have they really? Or deep down, are they the same cruel boys I knew from five years ago?

  I don’t know how long I stand under the spray. Hours? Minutes? When my fingers begin to prune, I shut off the water. Quickly, I towel off and slip into Karsyn’s clean clothes, finding myself only slightly disappointed when they don’t smell like him. I leave my wet clothes in the sink, knowing that he’ll grab them later, and pad on bare feet down the hallway.

  The only open door is at the very end of the hall, so I slip into that room, shutting and locking the door behind me.

  Karsyn’s bedroom.

  In the connecting bathroom, I can hear his shower running, so I take a moment to survey his room uninterrupted.

  It’s homier than I expected, laden with trophies and mementos. An entire shelf dedicated to autographed footballs sits just above his bed. Clothes litter the room, hanging off the side of his laundry basket. His duffle bag, full of his football equipment, lies open in the center of his rug.

  Before I can continue my search, the door to the bathroom opens and Karsyn steps out, one towel wrapped around his waist while he uses another one to dry his short hair. His feet falter when he sees me.

  “Peony, I didn’t expect—”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, spinning around. “The door was open, and I finished my shower, so I—”

  He chuckles, and I hear the sound of a drawer opening and closing. “You’re okay. I just didn’t expect you to be in here.”

  “You have…um…good water pressure,” I blurt like an idiot, and his laughter only increases.

  “I’ll make sure to let my parents know that you’re a fan of our water company.”

  I can’t take it anymore.

  I spin towards him so fast, I actually get whiplash. My power fizzles and sparks under my skin, almost like an errant firework accidentally being set off, as I stare up into his handsome face.

  “What the fuck are we doing, Alder?” I demand, and he pauses in the midst of putting a shirt on. I’m grateful to see his pants are already in place. Because Karsyn’s cock? I’m not sure even the strongest willed people could resist that.

  “What do you mean?” His smile drops, expression turning perplexed at my abrupt question.

  “I don’t know if I’m supposed to still hate you or what,” I blurt, mentally berating my stupid mouth for getting away from me.

  Instead of answering with words, Karsyn drops his black shirt to the ground and stalks forward on silent feet.

  Chapter 41

  “What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly, but I don’t step away. I’m not even sure I could if I wanted to.

  Which, oddly enough, I don’t think I do.

  “Kissing you,” he answers softly. My eyelids flutter shut as I wait for the warm press of his lips against mine.

  But instead of my lips, Karsyn gently lifts one of my hands and presses a tender kiss to the underside of my wrist. Directly over one of my scars.

  My heart picks up speed as he stares at me through his fringe of sooty lashes.

  “Karsyn…” I don’t know if I’m warning him to stay away or begging him to come closer. All I know is that I can feel each brush of his lips like they have a direct line of communication to my core.

  “I hate these,” Karsyn murmurs as he kisses another one. “I hate what they represent.”

  “I love them.” My voice is breathy, even for me, as he presses his lips to a third scar. “They’re a reminder of what I survived. I’d much rather have scars than have no skin at all, buried six feet beneath the ground.” He pauses his ministrations at my words, tilting only his chin up to meet my eyes.

  “In that case, they’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.” He stops his teasing kisses when he reaches my inner elbow, his tongue sneaking out to lick at the sensitive skin there. My lips part with an audible moan as his other hand begins to caress my waist, where my shirt has risen up.

  “Kar, you don’t have to do this—”

  He pulls away from me abruptly, lips thinning. “I want to. Fuck, Peony, don’t you get it? I’ve always wanted to. But you still don’t trust me.” It’s not a question, but a statement of fact. Still, I can tell how much it pains him to say it, if his melancholic expression is any indication. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

  The words tumble out of me like ragweed in a Wild West movie. “Don’t stop.”

  “You hold the reins, princess. I’ll do whatever you tell me to.” He steps forward, but I don’t get the sense of being over-crowded. He stares at me as if I’m the one who’s capable of breaking him, not the other way around.

  “Get on the bed,” I whisper hoarsely, stepping to the side so he can pass me. He complies easily, perching on the very edge like some sort of descendant of Hercules. With his bronzed chest on display and dark golden hair, he’s an exquisite work of art.

  Slowly, feeling hesitant and unsure, I move to straddle him, and his hands come up to cup my ass. My hands tremble as I attempt to pull my shirt over my head, becoming stuck. I can feel rather than see Karsyn’s body shake with laughter.

  “A little help?” he teases, the serious mood from only a few seconds ago dissipating.

  “Please,” I say through a giggle as he helps me remove the shirt the rest of the way. I hadn’t put on a bra after my shower, so my breasts spring free, nipples already beaded. The mirth drains from his face, heat instantly replacing it as his eyes turn hooded and smolder with need.

  Fear and excitement war for dominance in the pit of my stomach, but my own need and lust for this man keeps them both adequately subdued.

  He doesn’t make a move to touch me as I lean forward and bite down on his bottom lip, pulling it through my teeth. I take my time nibbling on his lips, familiarizing myself with the taste of him, before pulling back just slightly to analyze his face.

  The heat I find there nearly sends me spiraling over that invisible edge.

  “Is that all you got, Simone?” he questions cockily, but the lust in his eyes betrays his true feelings.

  “Just watch me, Alder.” I narrow my eyes, never one to back down from a challenge. Maintaining eye contact, I remove myself from his lap and back towards the center of the room, making sure there’s an extra bounce to my step in order to make my breasts jiggle. His hand moves to his sweats as he cups himself through the gray material, eyes never leaving my own.

  It occurs to me then that he could have some video cameras hidden in his room. That this could be a setup designed to humiliate me even more.

  But I don’t believe that. At all.

  I know in my heart that the need and lust I see reflected back at me from Karsyn’s eyes are real. I can’t tell you how I know, only that I do. Witch’s intuition, perhaps?

  Keeping my eyes trained on his, I slowly bring my hands to my breasts and begin to fondle them, pulling and twisting at my already sensitive nipples. The moan that escapes my mouth isn’t faked in the slightest. I picture his hands and lips replacing my own, driving me fucking mad with pleasure.

  Karsyn slides his hand inside his sweatpants and begins to tug on himself, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “No,” I say, still playing with my tits. “Let me see.”

  Movements jerky with his desperation, he awkwardly slides down his sweats, nearly falling off the bed in the process. Once he manages to remove the fabric, he grips his rock-hard cock in a t
ight fist.

  “That was graceful,” I tease as I move my hands from my breasts to the waistband of the borrowed boxer briefs. “And you’re supposed to be a football player? I don’t see a lot of athleticism, Alder.”

  “Come here, and I’ll show you how athletic I can actually be,” he demands huskily, stroking himself from base to tip. His other hand moves to fondle his balls.

  “Nah. I’m just getting started.”

  I twist, giving him my back, before hooking my thumbs into the top of the shorts and slowly pulling them down. I bend, giving him an unrestricted view of my ass and pussy lips as the fabric pools around my feet.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Karsyn hisses as I turn, finding his desk chair. I wheel it directly in front of the bed before sitting down and spreading my legs as far as they can go.

  “This is athleticism,” I jest as I bring one of my fingers to my slit and begin to coat the digit in my juices. My other hand travels back to my tit and begins to kneed it, loving the feel of its heavy weight.

  Karsyn’s breathing turns shallow as his eyes drop from my boob to my pussy then pop back up, almost as if he can’t decide where to look.

  “If you don’t come over here now, princess, I’m gonna place you over my shoulder and spank that gorgeous ass of yours,” he threatens, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Oh, are you now?” I tease, and he shocks the shit out of me by jumping to his feet and racing towards me. I squeal, practically falling face first off the chair, but he catches me with ease and slings me over his shoulder. Apparently, his “you’re in charge” rules no longer apply.

  And I love it more than I care to admit.

  His palm slaps down on my ass, and I squeak, swatting at his broad shoulder.

  “Fucker!” I seethe playfully. He tosses me onto the bed and all but collapses on top of me, nuzzling his face against the side of my neck. My laughter turns into moans as his lips create a searing trail from the hollow of my throat to my lips. It suddenly occurs to me that this is the second time I’m kissing Karsyn Alder. I imagined this exact moment more times than I care to admit, even when he was my bully, even when I hated him, even when he hated me. I always wanted him. And now I’ve kissed him twice in one day.