Devious Little Liars: A High School Bully Romance (Saint View High Book 1)

by Elle Thorpe

  “I didn’t expect that,” he murmured, his lips over mine once more.

  I let out a little laugh. “Yeah, join the club. You’re not a bad kisser.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Not bad?” He leaned in again, claiming my mouth once more.

  This kiss was hard, hot, and fast. I moaned, scrambling to get closer. This kiss was even better than the last. It was explosive. Powerful. Dominant.

  My head spun in dizzying, delighted, horny circles.

  “How ’bout now?” he asked with a smirk, like he knew exactly how much I’d enjoyed it.

  I pulled back and tried to calm my racing libido that yelled dirty suggestions in the back of my mind. Instead, I tilted my head to one side, letting the mood between us become playful. “What’s one up from not bad?”

  “Amazing?”

  “I was thinking more like mind-blowing.”

  Rafe rested his forehead against mine and groaned. “Don’t talk about blowing right now.”

  I dared at glance at his lap. His school slacks pulled tight over a very impressive erection.

  “Don’t stare at me like that either, Lacey. I’m trying really hard right now not to think with my dick, but if you keep looking at it, it’s going to be real hard not to use it on you.”

  Heat flared between my thighs, and I pressed them together. Just the thought of him using it on me… Him flipping me around, bending me over the car, lifting up my skirt…I suddenly saw the appeal in being used.

  Rafe pushed off the car and stalked a few steps away before turning back to grin at me. “Stop it.”

  “Stop what? I didn’t do anything.”

  “You didn’t need to. Your thoughts are written all over your face.”

  “Oh yeah?” I challenged. “Let’s hear it then, mind reader. What am I thinking?”

  “You’re thinking about how if I walked over there right now and pushed your knees apart, you’d let me. You’d let me run my hands beneath that skirt, and up your thighs. And how you’d let me kiss you until you begged for more.” He cocked his head to one side and studied me with a gaze that made me feel completely naked. “Am I right?”

  Aaaand, it was time to change the subject. Because all of that sounded so good I might be tempted to let him test out his theory. “We’re going to be late for the dinner. Assuming we’re still going, that is?”

  Rafe chuckled, his expression smug. “See? Mind reader.”

  I grinned. “Come on. I’m serious. We can’t just hide up here all night making out.” As tempting as that might be. It was no skin off my nose if we didn’t go to the dinner. But something told me if Rafe didn’t show up, there would be consequences. And I needed a breather to work out how I’d just ended up kissing Rafe Simmons on the hood of his father’s car. Dammit, I hadn’t even crossed him off my suspect list yet.

  “That dinner is the last thing I want to do,” Rafe complained. He came back to my side, the mood between us changed.

  My heart went out to him. Whatever was going on between him and his dad was obviously bigger than just tonight. On impulse, I picked up his hand and squeezed it. “Come on. Let’s just go. He’s not going to make a scene in front of all those people. Plus. It’s Friday night, and I’ll bet there’s an open bar…”

  He squeezed my fingers back. “I like your thinking.”

  We got back in the car, and as we drove back down the hill, I couldn’t help but shoot him little glances. This might not have been a date, but that didn’t mean it had to be a complete waste of an evening. Rafe might have had ulterior motives tonight, but so did I.

  “Do you like football?” I asked. “Playing it, I mean?”

  Nobody ever called me subtle.

  He shrugged. “Honestly? Not really. I only play it as a means to an end.”

  “How so?”

  “If I get a football scholarship, I won’t have to rely on my father to pay for college. And the sooner I get out from under his thumb, the better. I can’t wait for the day he has no say in my life.”

  “What about the other guys on the team?”

  He shrugged. “Depends who you mean. For some of them, football is their only shot at college. It’s their whole life.”

  “Banjo?”

  He nodded. “He lives with his brother. There won’t be a ticket out of this town if he doesn’t earn it kicking a pigskin.”

  I felt a bit bad talking about Banjo behind his back, but I pushed my guilt away. This was why I’d come to Saint View. To dig up dirt the police could use. Getting distracted by cute boys was a bonus, not the goal, and I couldn’t let it interfere.

  “Is the team close?”

  “Yeah. We’re tight. We won state last year. That binds you.”

  “I can imagine,” I murmured. “Congratulations,” I added on as an afterthought.

  “You like football?”

  I wrinkled up my nose. “My uncle wasn’t a fan, and my aunt doesn’t like any sport where you get dirty. So I’ve never had much to do with it. The parties are okay, though,” I finished, trying to steer the conversation off me and back to him. I didn’t like thinking about my uncle. And how on Superbowl Sunday, we’d order Chinese food and watch old movies instead of watching the game. I didn’t really like football parties either, though the last one I went to had turned out to be interesting. At the very least.

  Rafe shot me a glance and proved he really could read me like a book. “I owe you an apology about the party the other night. I was high. And being an asshole. Colt…we’re tight. I wish I knew what his problem is.”

  Him and me both.

  We pulled into the parking lot of the venue, and Rafe killed the engine, but neither of us moved for a minute.

  “I guess we have to go inside, huh? Maybe my father won’t put us on detention for the rest of the year if we go in and suck up to all these rich assholes.”

  I didn’t comment on the fact my aunt was one of them. And by association, I was, too. Instead, I got out of the car and pondered Rafe in a different light; tried to imagine him picking me up, carrying me through a fire.

  I was too busy gawking at him. I didn’t notice the pothole until it was too late. My ankle rolled, and I stumbled forward, trying to find my balance.

  “Whoa,” Rafe said, catching me before I fell. His hands wrapped around my upper arms, and my chest met his. “You okay?”

  I went to assure him I was fine. When something occurred to me. I screwed my face up in pain. “Ow, no. My ankle. I think I’ve twisted it.”

  Rafe looked down at the little divot in the road doubtfully.

  I tried a different tactic. “Don’t worry,” I said, overly loudly, “I’ll be fine.” I took a step forward and stumbled again. This time on purpose.

  Rafe caught me again. “Hey. Stop. You’re obviously not okay, though how you managed to hurt yourself on such a small hole, I don’t know.”

  “Clumsy,” I said through my fake grimaces. I gripped his arm. “It really hurts. Do you think you could help me inside?”

  He put his arm around my lower back, and I put mine around his. My fingers pressed against his spine, and for half a second, I let myself enjoy the contact. Was he seeing that blonde from the party? I could imagine him putting his arm around her like this, and the two of them walking into school or the mall together. And not just because she’d faked a twisted ankle. Jealousy flared. Which was ridiculous. One kiss and a few spilled secrets didn’t give me that right.

  “Just hop,” Rafe said. “There’s chairs inside the door.”

  I gave a half-hearted hop then faked a laugh. “These shoes aren’t made for hopping.” Which was true. My shoes were the only things I’d been allowed to pick out myself, so I’d chosen a pair of chunky wedge sandals. They weren’t exactly appropriate for anything but strutting on flat, level ground.

  Rafe stared down at my feet. “Those shoes are so extra. Come here.”

  And just like that, my not-so-brilliant, spur-of-the-moment plan worked. I sucked in a breath as
Rafe scooped me up into his arms and strode toward the door.

  Flashes of that night burned through my head. Fire. Smoke. Strong arms around me, and my head against a solid chest, embroidered letters beneath my fingers.

  Rafe set me down on a chair just inside the door, and I tried to catch my breath.

  “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “No, I just…when you picked me up like that, it reminded me of something else.”

  He frowned. “Something bad, by the expression on your face.”

  I shook my head. “No, actually. It’s all good. You just surprised me.” I rotated my ankle around and pointed at it. “I really don’t think it’s all that bad. Come on, let’s go see if your dad and my aunt made it here.”

  I pushed to my feet, not even bothering to fake a limp. My little performance had done its job. When Rafe had picked me up, I might have had flashbacks to that night. But that had only cemented the realization that it didn’t feel right. I didn’t fit in Rafe’s arms like I had the guy who’d rescued me. It didn’t feel the same. It might not have been the solid proof that the police needed. But I trusted my gut instinct. Rafe wasn’t the one who’d pulled me out of the fire that night.

  A sense of satisfaction, and then anticipation, rolled over me. If Rafe was off my list, next time we hung out, I couldn’t see things remaining quite so PG. And that was something to look forward to.

  18

  Banjo

  I sent Rafe three Facebook messages on Saturday morning before the lazy prick woke up.

  Banjo: You up?

  Banjo: Yo, get up. I need to talk.

  Banjo: Not going away, asshole. I can see you’ve read my messages.

  It was that last one that finally got a response.

  Rafe: Fuck off. Not all of us get up before dawn to go surfing.

  Banjo: Neither did I. I’m still in bed. How was your date with Lacey last night?

  Rafe: Fine. We did the speech. Played the poor, disadvantaged student to some suits. Well, I did. Lacey already knew half the room. She went home with her aunt.

  Huh. Not what I’d expected at all. But also, very vague. And the fact was, there was one thing I wanted to know, and if I didn’t come right out and say it, he probably wouldn’t tell me.

  Banjo: Anything happen between you two?

  I stared at my phone and willed a message to pop up. When one didn’t, I knew I had my answer.

  Banjo: A kiss?

  Still nothing.

  Banjo: Sex?

  I pounced on my phone when it beeped.

  Rafe: Not sex.

  They’d kissed then. I bit my lip. I’d spent all last night getting drunk, alone in my bedroom, and all I’d been able to think about was the two of them out on a date. I knew Rafe. When he liked a girl, he didn’t hold back. I knew he would have been putting the moves on.

  Thing was, I couldn’t work out if I was jealous…or turned on. I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow. Fuck.

  Rafe: You kissed her, too, huh?

  My thumb hovered over the screen. I never normally thought twice about telling Rafe everything I’d done with girls. Right down to graphic descriptions that earned me brownie points and high fives. But something stopped me this time.

  Rafe: Your silence is just as telling as mine was.

  Banjo: Yeah.

  Banjo: I’m taking her out again today. I want to kiss her some more. Just putting it out there.

  Rafe: Colt will have both our heads if he finds out.

  Banjo: He’d better not find out then. We cool, though?

  Rafe: Always.

  Well, that was a relief. I exited out of my conversation with Rafe and started a chat with Lacey.

  Banjo: Morning, beautiful.

  Lacey: Charmer.

  Banjo: Beach today? Meet me there at noon?

  Lacey: Can’t wait.

  I couldn’t either. I showered quickly, then thundered down the stairs and into the kitchen. I frowned at the two empty wine glasses on the kitchen counter. Augie had obviously had someone over last night. For business or pleasure, I had no idea. I hoped the latter. I put the two glasses into the sink and filled it with sudsy water.

  He came down the stairs only a minute after I did, while I was elbow deep in cleaning up his mess.

  “You couldn’t spring for a dishwasher? Or at least do your own dishes?” I grumbled.

  He clapped me on the shoulder on his way to the refrigerator. “When you come work for me next year, we’ll have the money for that stuff. Right now, I’m busting my ass just to pay our rent and buy food.”

  I sighed. “I told you. I’m not coming to work with you.”

  Augie laughed, like the notion I wouldn’t want to do what he did was ridiculous. “Yeah, well. We’ll see about that. I’ve had a lot of interest in you.”

  I dropped a knife, and it clattered against the stainless-steel sink. “What? You’ve been telling people about me?”

  He shrugged and pulled out a stool at the counter. “People know who you are. The hotshot football player and all.”

  I went back to scrubbing. “I’m not going to be here next year, Augie. I’m going to get a scholarship and get the fuck out of this dead-end town. This might be enough for you, but it sure as hell isn’t for me.”

  I shot him a glance over my shoulder, but he didn’t even seem upset by the accusation. Probably because it was one I’d made many times before. But I’d been more vocal about it in the last twelve months. Ever since Augie started talking about me working for him once I turned eighteen.

  I didn’t even want to think about it.

  “Do we have a picnic basket somewhere?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Augie scoffed. “Why the fuck would we have a picnic basket? Do I look like the type who goes on picnics?”

  No. He looked like the type who dealt drugs on the side of his other illegal activities.

  “Forget it then,” I muttered.

  “You taking some cheerleader out on a date? All romantic and shit?”

  “She’s not a cheerleader. And her name is Lacey.”

  “The slut who was giving you a blowie last night? Fuck, little bro. You don’t take those girls out on picnics. You just get what’s between their legs and move on to the next one.”

  Before I knew it, I was dragging Augie off his stool and had him pinned to the kitchen cupboards. My fingers balled into fists in his shirt. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that. She’s no slut.”

  Augie raised one eyebrow, then shoved me away hard. “Who is this chick? Her pussy made of gold?”

  I ground my teeth, fighting back the urge to take a swing at him. “I mean it, Augie. Don’t.”

  He waved me off. “Fine, fine. I got better things to do anyway.” And then he disappeared through the front door, slamming it behind him with a bang.

  I blew out a slow breath, and one by one, unclenched my fingers. I loved my brother. And I knew I owed him a lot. But sometimes, I really fucking hated him, too.

  We’d picked an awesome day for the beach. The nights were getting colder, but today was unseasonably warm, and girls were out in bikinis. The water was still a steady sixty-five degrees, so with a bit of luck, I’d be able to convince Lacey to go for a swim.

  I waited for her at the top of the path that led from the road down to the soft sand of the beach, and grinned when I spotted her convertible, top down, wind blowing through her hair. I jogged over, opening the door for her.

  “Hey, you.” I grinned. “Have I told you how hot you look driving that car?”

  She grabbed a beach bag from the passenger seat and unclipped her seat belt. “No, but you can tell me now.”

  “Straight out of every teenage boy’s dreams.”

  She wrinkled her nose adorably. “Not sure that’s a good thing.”

  I took the bag from her and shouldered it. “Fine. Straight out of my dreams, then. Better?”

  She got out of the car, closing t
he door behind her. My automatic instinct was to step closer, cage her in, and kiss her. But there were people around, and if we were keeping this on the downlow, kissing her out in the open probably wasn’t such a good idea. So instead, I forced myself to step back and give her some room.

  I didn’t miss the flash of disappointment in her eye. And it had me feeling pretty good about myself. I liked the idea of keeping her waiting. Wanting. It was a pleasurable sort of torture. One I got off on.

  My hand brushed hers as we walked down to the sand. I led the way, picking a path through families and groups of friends. “Can you swim?” I asked.

  Lacey skirted some seaweed washed up on the shore before she answered. “Swimming is probably the one sport I’m not completely uncoordinated with. I’m not going to win any Olympic medals, but I won’t drown.”

  “Good.” I dumped our stuff down on the sand. “Because I want to show you something, but it involves swimming.”

  She shrugged. “I’m up for it. It’s so nice today.”

  “For more reasons than one.”

  She nudged me with her elbow. “Smooth talker.”

  I nudged her back. “Princess.”

  She inched closer to me. “I kind of like it when you call me that.”

  “I know. Now get your gear off.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Back at you.”

  I pulled my shirt over my head. The slight breeze coming off the water danced over my skin.

  Lacey’s gaze dropped from my face and ran across my chest, lingering lower on my abs.

  I was getting turned on just from her watching me, so I put my hands on her shoulders and twisted her to face the ocean. “The view is that way. Quit gawking at me.”

  The elbow I copped that time was harder and straight to my midsection, but I laughed. “I like it when you’re feisty.”

  “And I liked the view I had, thank you very much. But this one is nice, too. I love the ocean.”

  I started to agree with her, but the words dried on my lips. Lacey pulled her T-shirt off, then went to work on the buttons of her denim skirt. She tugged it down over her hips and ass, leaving her in the tiniest white bikini I’d ever seen. It barely covered her tits.