by Harlow Grace
As far as Gerard was concerned, I really didn’t care. I'd lost all respect for him the moment he’d actually allowed Oliver to intimidate him. I’d waited for him to challenge Oliver, to put up some sort of fight. Didn’t happen. He didn’t even bother to stand up to my stepbrother for me. Instinctively I knew that was a bad sign—a guy should want to fight for his woman. Right?
I’d finally passed out from exhaustion and fallen into a fitful sleep, filled with nightmares.
It was nearly dark outside when I woke with a start.
“Hey, can I ask you a favor?” Bianca stuck her head inside the door of my bedroom and brought me out of my funk.
Not moving from the fetal position I was lying in, I eyed her suspiciously. Bitch had hardly spoken ten words to me over the years except when she wanted something. Usually she was so damn wrapped around Oliver she just ignored me.
“Yeah?” I answered, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“When Oliver asked me to come over this morning, he didn’t mention your party. Just told me to hurry. I didn’t bring anything to wear. Mind if I borrow something of yours?” Her false smile didn’t reach her eyes.
I swallowed hard. The gall some people had was unbelievable. She had the whole damn afternoon to get down to a store and buy something. Instead she stayed in Oliver’s room banging him and then blowing him at the pool. And now this?
I'd had enough of this bullshit. It was the last fucking straw.
If Oliver wanted her, he could have her. Dressed in my clothes, too.
“Sure. Help yourself,” I said, shrugging.
Nothing matters any more.
Bianca came forward, her eyes gleaming when she saw the selection hanging there. “Oh, you have some nice pieces here. Maybe a bit big for me, but I'm sure I’ll find something that will make your brother happy.”
My stomach churned and I felt sick. Did she really have to rub it in that she was skinnier than me on top of everything else?
“He’s not my brother,” I said, rolling my eyes. The anger that had been simmering all day since she arrived was reaching boiling point. I was about to lose my shit and it wasn’t going to be pretty.
“Hmmm . . . this black one will look sexy on me. Can I try it on?”
“Knock yourself out,” I said, getting up from the bed and making my way to the door. I wasn’t going to stand there and watch the bitch parade around in my clothes.
As I headed for the door, I looked back and saw her slip out of her dress. No underwear. Figures.
Slamming into a hard chest, I sucked in a breath as Oliver’s hands gripped my upper arms.
“Where are you going?” The smirk he greeted me with was more than I could handle.
“As far away from here as I can,” I said, bile swirling in my gut. I was going to throw up if he didn’t get out of my way. He made me sick.
Fuck this party. I never wanted it anyway.
And fuck Bianca and Oliver too.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can't do that.”
“Watch me.”
“Ollie, come help me choose,” Bianca's grating voice chimed back in. “Your sister has an amazing wardrobe. I wish I’d known years ago.”
“At least one of us has good taste,” I said dryly. I watched Oliver’s face turn stone cold.
It went right over Bianca’s head. She frowned and stared at me, a perplexed expression on her face. “Come to think of it, I've never seen you wear any of this stuff. You’re always dressed in shorts or jeans. This is wasted on you.”
“Ollie?” I sneered, pushing past him.
I flew down the stairs and didn't look back. It was time I stopped making a complete and utter fool of myself. I had to get my shit together where Oliver was concerned. Damn, I’d turned eighteen today and yet he still had the power to make me feel like that twelve-year-old child in the car on the way home from the airport.
Unwanted.
An irritation.
Not good enough for him.
“Maya, wait,” he called after me. For a split second I wanted to stop dead in my tracks to hear what he wanted. No. Get out. Get away.
All Oliver King wanted was to humiliate me further.
I got it now. He was pretending to be nice to me earlier so that he could put me in my place once Bianca arrived. They’d laugh and make fun of me—at how naive I was.
Bianca’s giggles drifted toward me. Yeah, I didn’t need any more confirmation than that. As I reached the bottom of the stairs I saw Quinn, all dressed up and looking gorgeous.
“Bee?”
“Get me the fuck out of here. Please.”
That’s the great thing about having a bff. No further words were necessary. She grabbed her purse and hooked into my arm, pulling me toward the door.
“Where to?”
“Anywhere but here.” I blinked fast, feeling the burn in my throat.
The car door clicked open.
“Sure. Hop in. I know just the place.”
“You don’t mind missing the party?” I said, swallowing hard.
“Of course not, silly. If you aren’t there, there isn’t much point is there?”
She started the engine and pulled off. With every mile we drove away, the weight on my shoulders lightened.
“Where are you taking me?”
She laughed. “Where every girl should be on her eighteenth birthday.”
I left it at that, not really caring where we went. She had sensed that I didn’t want to talk and for once in her life, she hadn’t thrown a thousand questions my way. I’d sat huddled into the corner, my arms folded and my lips pursed tightly together.
Quinn knew me well enough to know that she wouldn’t get a word out of me in my current state. She’d wait till I was ready and the dam walls burst.
I didn’t really have to say anything either. She’d glanced at me and said one word. “Oliver?”
I’d nodded. That was all it took for her to know my state of mind. We drove without talking, but she cranked the music up so loud that chatting was impossible. It was her way of showing me that she understood and would wait until I was ready to let it all out.
Fifteen minutes later, she parked the car.
“A strip club? Are you fucking crazy? We’ll never get in.”
“Not unless we know the right people—which I just so happen to do. We are getting laid tonight. You, missy, are going to have the time of your life. Fuck Oliver King. And, F.Y.I., there are some delicious hunks in there.”
“Are you serious?” I breathed, gaping at Quinn.
She smiled reassuringly at me. “Never been more so. Oliver has fucked with your mind long enough. It's time to let that shit go. You’re damn legal now, so let’s do this!”
At the entrance, she flashed a card at the security slash bouncer dude. He let us in, no questions asked. “Damn, I'm impressed,” I said, meaning every word.
My eyes widened as I drank it all in. I'd never been to a place like this. It wasn’t a sleazy strip club at all. Loud music pierced my eardrums and there were bodies gyrating on a large dance floor.
“Let's get a drink first,” she said as she headed for the bar. Shit, I was eighteen, not twenty-one. How would we pull this off?
“Two spritzers,” she said, sliding money across the bar.
“Sure,” the barman said, winking at Quinn.
Oh boy. Trouble was brewing and I was just going along for the ride.
Quinn was right. Fuck Oliver King.
Chapter Seventeen — Maya
BEFORE: Evening
Minutes later we were sipping on tall, refreshing drinks containing large doses of alcohol. This shit was illegal, but I wasn’t complaining. It was my birthday and I could get drunk if I wanted to. In fact, I was hell bent on it—the first few sips alone had helped me relax and made my head spin ever so slightly. More of that stuff and I’ll be spinning like a ballerina on crack.
We watched a group of people leave a booth and headed straight for it. I
needed to sit down; my knees were shaking that much.
“Hey Quinn, about time you came to the club. I'm glad to see you used your special card.” The owner of the sexy voice was tall and built, his hard muscles on display through his tight, black, sleeveless t-shirt. His biceps flexed as he held onto the backrest of the seat and leaned over to kiss Quinn on the forehead, keeping his eyes glued to my breasts the entire time.
“Hey, Jason. I brought my best friend. It's her first time at a club and she needs some initiating. Maya just turned eighteen today.”
Quinn knew hot men like Jason and never told me? She had some explaining to do.
The way Jason grinned at me, I thought he was going to eat me alive. Lust sparked in his eyes as his gaze raked up and down my body. Since I hadn’t dressed up for the party before leaving the house, I was still dressed in what Larissa called my “slutty attire” of shorts and a loose top—braless, of course. I hated wearing underwear most of the time, so when I hung out in my bedroom, I stayed away from those restrictive garments.
“I like what I see. Happy birthday, Maya.” His hand went to his crotch and he cupped his package unashamedly. “I have a birthday gift for you, darling.”
Unsure of how to react to such blatant sexuality, I tried to hide my blush behind my glass as I giggled nervously and took a huge sip of my drink for more courage. This shit better work faster. I needed to get over my fucking shyness where guys were concerned.
Jason slid into the seat beside me with his eyes pinned on my boobs. Why did men always go there?
His gaze finally drifted back to my eyes. “Darling, where have you been hiding all my life? Quinn never told me she had a friend as beautiful as you.” He took hold of my hand and placed it on his erection. “Not many girls do this to my cock anymore. You’re special, beautiful.”
Quinn had a worried expression on her face. “Slow down, Jason. Jesus, Maya’s not your dinner, you know,” she scolded.
A slow grin spread over Jason’s face. “I’ve just regained my appetite, Quinn, and I’m mighty hungry. Need to eat soon. And I know what I want for dinner . . . and dessert.”
I sucked in a breath. Holy hell, he was direct. He was scaring and turning me on at the same time. But why the fuck is Oliver still in my mind? I could practically picture the scorn on his face if he saw me. Good. If this would make Oliver mad, I was all for it.
Drawing on all the false courage the alcohol had given me, I squeezed his cock through the denim. It was hard as granite and throbbed in my hand.
“Babe, you’re something else, you know,” Jason breathed on my neck, his breath warm and heavy.
“So I’ve been told,” I said, smiling at how easy this was turning out to be. I'd never thought I'd be able to pull something like this off, but here I was holding a stranger’s dick in my hand minutes after meeting him. What did that say about me? Fuck, I really didn’t care. Quinn was right; I had to let go. Jason was clearly experienced and he wanted me—that much was clear.
Unlike someone else who rejected me. Shunned and snubbed me at every turn.
Quinn coughed, drawing our attention back to her. “Um, I’ve just spotted an old friend at the bar. Behave you two. Or actually—don’t. Have fun.”
My heart beat in my ears. With Quinn there, I knew Jason would be more talk than action, but now she was gone.
“So Maya, how does it feel to be eighteen? I’ve forgotten,” Jason said, his hand on the top of my thigh.
“Um . . . how old are you?” Panic rose in my chest as my gaze narrowed in on the fine lines on the sides of his face. If he found out how little experience I had, he’d probably lose all interest. More fucking rejection.
“Ten years older than you, babe. But don’t panic, I’ll be gentle. I like my chicks young and a little inexperienced. Makes it so much more exciting to teach you. Worn out whores bore me.”
Well, at least he was honest. That was more than I could say for most men. I knew exactly where I stood with Jason. He wanted to fuck me and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.
Why the fuck not? I could think of worse things than spending a night of pleasure with Jason. I liked that he was experienced and could guide me.
Jason’s hand slid around my neck and pulled me closer to him. The warmness of his hand, the self assured possessiveness, the desire in his eyes—it all felt good. His mouth covered mine as he tasted my lips.
“Jesus, darling, if your pussy tastes anything like your mouth, I'm in fucking trouble, you know?”
He made me feel good. Wanted. Desired.
Just what I needed.
His hand moved over my ribs and under my top, finding my breast and squeezing.
“Fuck, I love a woman who has the confidence to not wear a bra. You’re making me wild, babe.” His voice was deep and husky at my ear as he rolled a hard nipple between his fingers, pulling just enough to send pure pleasure shooting straight to my core. I threw back my head, exposing my neck to him, moaning softly.
“Fuck me. What the fuck?”
I could swear the booming voice sounded like Oliver’s.
“Get away from her, asshole.”
The warmth of Jason’s hand and breath left me. What happened? My eyes flew open and were met with dark brown angry orbs.
“What the fuck, Maya?” Oliver glared at me, his jaw tight, disgust and anger on his face. He’d pulled Jason off me—my new friend hung by his shirt collar, bewildered by what had just happened.
“Hey, let go, dude. Who the fuck do you think you are to interrupt?”
“I'm your worst fucking nightmare if you don’t disappear in three seconds, dude,” Oliver spat out.
“I saw her first, asshole.” Jason punched Oliver in the stomach with his elbow. I couldn’t help liking Jason just a little bit more right then. At least he had the damn guts to want to fight for me. Not that he’d win against Oliver, but it was sweet anyway.
Out of breath from the punch, Oliver narrowed his eyes at me. “Maya, get the fuck in my car now if you don’t want me to smash pretty boy’s face. I’m two seconds away from rearranging it.”
Oliver meant it, of that I was certain. He had a thing for punching guys.
“How . . . how did you find me? And what are you doing here? The party—“
“I followed you and Quinn. Except I couldn’t find fucking parking. Had to leave my car two blocks away. You’re lucky I got here when I did.”
“Or what, Oliver?” I cocked my head and waited for his answer.
“Babe, who the fuck is this dude?” Jason asked as he took a step closer to me.
Oliver growled, his fists clenched into balls, his knuckles white. “You’re still here, asshole? Don’t make me hurt you.”
I sighed. “It's okay Jason, he’s my stepbrother.”
“Back off dude, I’m not going to hurt her,” Jason said to Oliver. “Your sister is okay with me.”
I watched Jason stagger backwards as Oliver punched him once on the jaw, followed up with a jab in the pit of his stomach. Before I could say anything, Oliver had reached out and grabbed my upper arm, dragging me across the seat.
“You, slut, are coming home with me. I don’t want to hear another fucking word from you.”
Roughly, he dragged me by the arm, pulling me toward the door.
“Quinn—“
“Fuck Quinn. Jason can tell her what happened.”
“You’re hurting me.”
He laughed. “You think this is pain? You have no fucking idea, little bee.”
Chapter Eighteen — Oliver
BEFORE: Evening
This was getting fucking old. How many more times would I have to pull guys off Maya? My stomach churned when I thought of what I saw in that booth. Little slut was about to give it up to fucking Jason.
I knew Jason. He was a real ladies man. Woman loved him and he usually had his pick at every party I’d seen him at. Yet, I couldn’t blame him for wanting her. There was something about Maya that just made men’s dicks how
l for her pussy. And I could hardly bear watching it any longer.
She tried to pull away from me, but my grip just tightened around her arm, practically dragging her along with me. If I needed to, I'd throw the little bitch over my shoulder and carry her to my car.
As for Quinn—she was in for a lashing of my tongue when I saw her again. What the fuck was she trying to do? I could strangle her. One minute Maya was getting ready for her party, the next she’d disappeared. If Larissa hadn’t witnessed it all and told me what happened I would’ve wasted time looking for her around the pool or in the library, and then there was no way I would have found her in time.
“Is there no fucking end to your slutty ways?” I barked. “Why would you go to a club dressed like that? It's asking for trouble.”
Marching through the street with long strides, Maya struggled to keep up with my pace. I didn’t care. I just wanted to get out of there and forget what I saw.
A few minutes later, I shoved her into the car and slammed the door shut, locking it in case she tried to escape while I rounded the car. By the time I got in on my side, she’d folded her arms across her chest and was staring straight ahead of her. The way she lifted her chin already made my balls ache.
“Start wearing underwear, Maya. Don’t let me catch you without it again.”
Maya was trouble.
A dirty slut and more trouble than I needed in my life. The sweet side I’d seen that morning—the side that pulled at my heart—was just a show. I bet she used it to get guys hot for her. Yet I couldn’t let it go. I’d watched, mesmerized for a full minute or two as the prick made his moves on her, strangely turned on. The raging fire that burned through me was difficult to ignore. When his hand slipped under her top, I totally lost my shit. Why was it that every guy in the universe could cop a feel but I couldn’t touch her?
She sat there quietly, not moving. Fuck. Quiet Maya wasn’t something I knew how to deal with. Raging and calling me names, yeah. That I could handle. Sweet and soft Maya I liked in spite of myself. But quiet?
