So, what do I do? I can remain here, silently watching, waiting for them to make their move. Or, I can jump up and hide. I know this house like the back of my hand, even though I haven’t been here in years. I know where all the best places are to hide, especially in this bedroom. Callum has a little hidden cubby behind his clothes rack in the closet—maybe I can climb in there and wait them out.
However, none of those things are what I do. Instead, a flighty thought races through my mind and I act on it.
Remind me to smack myself later, okay?
Instead of running away like a coward, unable to face the three probably about to walk through that door, I accept my position of defeat.
I don’t run; don’t hide. Instead, I burrow myself into the pillow beneath my head and close my eyes like a little bitch. I count to six after each exhale, hoping the slow rise and fall of my chest will trick them. It never works in the movies, but I’m hoping it will tonight. That the light is dim enough, so they won’t see the fluttering of my lashes. Nor will they see the stiffness in my body as I lie in wait for what comes next.
I pretend, which is something I’ve gotten better at over the years.
Moments after my heart settles, I hear the door slide open. The hinges creak just the tiniest bit, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. The first thing I notice is a biggy. It has the claws champing at the bit to escape their prison.
There is no music filtering through the open doorway. Not even a peep.
Dear God, am I alone with them? I barely repress a shudder of awareness.
“He’s actually sleeping,” I hear Asher whisper, his voice in obvious awe.
“He’s so keyed up all the time, what did you expect?” Quinn states.
Silence extends a few moments before Asher replies, “I told him you collect more flies with honey than you do vinegar. He could be nicer, then he wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”
What are they talking about? Collect flies with honey? Who has vinegar?
I’m so confused, and even more so when I hear a third voice pipe up. “He loves hard but hates even harder. We should have expected this.”
Ellis …
But if he’s there, and Asher is there, and Quinn is there, then … who’s behind me?
My breath freezes as horror splashes all over me like that paint did on the first day. I knew the guy behind me felt too familiar. No wonder I’m in Callum’s room and on Callum’s bed.
It’s because I’m in his goddamn arms.
“It’s like they gravitate toward each other,” Ellis whispers, and I think I hear a tinge of jealousy and wonder filter through his voice. “It’s almost …”
“Disgusting?” Quinn deadpans, but even I can hear the neediness in his voice. Now that has my head nearly spinning off my shoulders.
A light chuckle hits my ears a moment later. “No, dick. I was going to say it’s almost refreshing.”
“Refreshing?” Quinn fires back, heated. And now the dick comes out to play. Jesus. “She is nothing but trash. A whore. You’ve heard the things Callum told us. He subdued himself and barely said two words for an entire goddamn year before he finally broke down and told us what happened. His family moved to Santa Barbara so we could form a friendship, unlike the generation before us. They thought it would be better; that we would be closer.”
“You don’t?”
Quinn sighs. “No. It’s only made it worse.”
“How so?” Asher pipes up. “I think we’re goddamn close considering everything we’ve been through.”
“That’s the fucking problem, Ash. They wanted us close, but not too close. We all have jobs to do when we leave this school. Our empires wait for no motherfucker, and we cannot allow feelings, regrets, or guilt impede on it.”
I am so confused right now. Empires? The Lockridge’s are rich, probably the richest in Silver Creek, but they have nothing remotely resembling an empire. Quinn makes it sound like they’re this top-rated elite … It dawns on me then. What the guy in the bathroom was trying to tell me all those years ago.
“A temptation as sweet as candy, but as deadly as a viper. It’s no wonder they wanted to use you to break him out of this spell. I now see the appeal.”
It seems the rumors in this case are true. Callum, Quinn, Ellis, and Asher are people you would consider “elite.” It’s not who they are personally, but what they will be as a group when the time comes. They have to take over after their parents step down from the businesses they own—businesses, or business, they probably own together.
Now, the lump in my throat damn near threatens to strangle me. Fear and heartbreak clings to me like a second skin. I almost mess up on my breathing twice as I ponder over all the things I just heard, all the secrets those three unknowingly just solved for me.
It was never about me; about breaking me. It was always about breaking Callum. It was about ripping him out of the bubble he and I threw ourselves into our freshman year. Someone, somewhere, didn’t want us to be together because … goddammit—they didn’t want us to be together because I made him normal, weak. And they don’t want someone weak to run their business.
No one would go that far to change someone to mirror their image. Would they?
CHAPTER 19
I’m about to break. Here. Now. It’s almost too much to bear as emotions clog my throat, threatening to strangle me.
Was everything that happened between Callum and I preventable? Was it someone behind the scene, pulling on our strings?
It sounds farfetched, even in my mind. But I can stop that nagging feeling screaming in my mind that it’s true. That what Callum and I went through is because of someone else. They’re greed got the better of them, and instead of being upfront to him, they concocted this whole scheme. They put the plan in motion with that fucking guy in the bathroom. Or, maybe, they started it with Alessandra.
Hell, maybe I’m just tripping off second hand weed or something.
But then again …
No! It’s not possible, Jess.
But what if it is?
Shit. I need to get myself under control. Nothing good will come out of this if I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off. For all I know, Callum did all those things because he wanted to do all of them. Not that he had someone in his ear spewing garbage so his decisions matched theirs.
Callum is his own person. A person who makes his own decisions and reacts how he wants to react. No one can tell him to do anything. No one forced him to dry hump Alessandra against the kitchen wall. He was drunk; under the influence and made that deadly decision himself.
No one can force Callum Lockridge into anything.
But I was. I didn’t have a say. The only power I had was what reaction I would allow everyone to see. Now that I’ve heard what I have, I know for a fact they placed the cup in front of me, rather than just me taking it from someone’s hands. I just wish I had gotten a good look at the person I took it from. Maybe then I’d have a clue who orchestrated my demise.
Maybe then I would have a clue who made it their mission to rip Callum and I apart.
We could have prevented all of this. And I know the first step we need to take so we can start forgiving each other.
Callum’s already got my forgiveness. He had it almost as soon as it happened, because I know—from experience—how a person can be when under the influence of too much alcohol. My forgiveness may make me a spineless jellyfish, a pushover, but this is real life. People fuck up, then ask for forgiveness. It’s all up to them not to make the same mistake twice.
And we won’t be able to heal unless I get my side of the story out. Callum needs to know what happened that night, and why I’ve been acting the way I have since then. He needs to know what went on inside my head, and why I relented to all their taunting and bulling.
They broke me, baby. Hard. But maybe my side can save us.
“You see that?” I freeze. “Her leg twitched.”
�
��It could just be her dreaming,” Asher replies.
“Or the little bitch is awake,” Quinn deadpans in a monotone voice.
Feet shuffle over the hardwood floor, and it’s then I know I’m caught. There is no way they won’t know I have been awake this entire time if their vision gets past the dim lighting. That I’m more confused now—while at the same time, I’ve never seen clearer—than I was before the party. With all this talk about empires, and friendships, and conspiracy theories on what happened that night, it’s made me forget I was pretending to be asleep.
Maybe if I just naturally shift, release a sigh of content (gag), and snuggle into the quilts a little more it will be believable. I know, but it always works for me when Debra is on a tangent at home.
Subtly, I slightly turn until I rest on my back within the confines of Callum’s arms. It sucks pretending, but damn, it looks like I have to deal. There’s no other way around it. I want Callum to myself when I try to go through this with him. Having an audience will do none of us any good.
Ever so slightly, I tilt my head in Callum’s direction until my cheek rests on the pillow. I force myself not to freak when our noses press against each other, placing our lips so close it physically hurts not to close the distance. No, you can’t. He’s still an asshole, even now that things changed. No closing anything, I chastise myself. But, man it’s so hard when you feel such heat and virility it makes you ache.
Pushing that thought out of my head, I release this drawn-out moan slash exhale noise from the back of my throat. The kind of sound a person lets out when they feel incomprehensibly comfortable.
“No way she heard anything,” Ellis states. “I mean, she’s drooling and everything.”
I haven’t; Drooled that is.
Oh, but I heard everything else.
I almost want to laugh at the amateur remark, thinking I’ll fall for it that easily. Drooling from sleep is embarrassing enough, but just the thought of doing it in front of four of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen? Yeah, dig my grave now, please.
“Didn’t make a peep at that,” Asher confirms, and I almost chuckle and blow my cover.
Callum adjusts on the bed next to me, and that’s when my inward chuckling fucking stops. I’m almost afraid to breathe. Then, I hear silent laughter escape from one of the guys next to the door. “Just wait for it, guys. It’s coming.”
What’s coming? What did Quinn mean by saying that?
Now, I’m a little terrified keeping up this farce, because Lord knows what’s coming. But I’ve come too far now to relent and let them know I’m awake. I may be a girl but I ain't no bitch, man. I’m going to see this through until the very end.
At least, I ain’t a bitch until I feel soft, pouty lips press against mine. That’s when it’s all fucking over. I’m a bitch. A bitch that completely buzzes with a strange feeling in my tummy when Callum shifts closer. I suspect it’s an accident, because there is no way he would do that if he were awake. He freaking hates me. At least, he does right now. Maybe he won’t hate me as much after I tell him the truth. I just hope he believes it.
However, hatred isn’t filling his veins with liquid heat right now. Holy shit …. dude. I swear this motherfucker just groaned. Like, a full-out, drop-your-goddamn-panties-because-I’m-about-to-fuck-that-pussy-til-you-cream groan!
So, oh no, it’s not hate. And, dare I say it, my reaction isn’t hatred, either.
I know. I am a disgrace to all strong-willed females everywhere! I need someone to come take my button or something, because man, there’s no way I will be able to stop this. It’s been too freaking long. If he starts something, I’ll just fuck him like I hate him—in a sense, I really hope he does to, because hate sex is the absolute best.
Arousal, desire—all of it flows through my veins like snaps of energy. So much lust builds in the blood simmering just beneath the surface it feels like I’ll boil over at any moment. And that’s just from the slightest of pressure of his lips against mine. That’s not considering the rest of him. His strong, muscular frame practically molding itself to mine. The feel of his hard cock as it gives sporadic jerks between the apex of my thighs.
Having him this close makes me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling. It causes a flush to overcome me. And when his lips jerk once, as if he’s startled, I’m silently sobbing—begging for him to close the distance.
I’ve never been this turned on before in my life. I feel like he hit me with a live wire, and the electricity shooting through every facet of my being is just a precursor to the explosion coming later.
When he sighs, I melt into a puddle at his feet. Or, in this case, at his side.
When he tightens his arms, I’m silently thanking God above.
And I practically die from pleasure overload when he fixes his lips tightly against mine and start slowly started sensuously sliding them along mine.
Too much. It’s … it’s too much. I try to stay as still as possible, wondering, hoping, he’ll get the hint I’m “asleep” and back off.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he seals damnation with a mouthwatering, deep-seated groan that rumbles in his chest.
I should be stronger than this. After the years of beating myself up over what transpired between us, I finally see reason that none of it was my fault. It actually wasn’t his, either. But his lack of faith and disappearing act didn’t help the least bit.
Except, I wasn’t ready for this. The feeling of complete belonging it nearly takes my breath away, causing my lips to part on a gasp.
A drunk, sleep, or disoriented—because he has to be one of the three. No way would he do this sober—Callum takes full advantage. Hell, I’m not even sure he knows who he’s doing this with right now. But I’ll be fucked if I say any different.
We hate each other, but my body still loves the way he can meticulously pull her strings.
“See,” I vaguely hear Quinn whisper. There’s no way I should do any of this in a room full of guys, but I can’t find it in me to care. Honestly, the thrill of them watching … it, uh—it causes a feral part inside of me to bloom with hunger.
It’s so wrong. Right?
Right?!
Opening for him, I whimper as our tongues tangle together in a sensual caress. I can’t fight the need clawing at the recesses of my mind. It forces me to wrap my arms around his neck, weaving my fingers into the hair at his nape. His arms tighten around me to the point of pain, trapping me. Before I know which is up and which is down, the leg he has wrapped around me pulls me closer so he can grind his cock against my hungry pussy.
“Ah, fuck,” he whispers against my lips, and a shiver wracks my system at the guttural sound of so much lust, so much deep-seated desire, fueling his words.
He tastes different from what I remember, but it’s not bad. It’s more cinnamon now, where used to be he’d taste of mint and citrus. It makes me salivate for another taste, then another, even when I know I shouldn’t. Even though I know in order to keep my sanity, I need to stay far away from Callum Lockridge.
Yet, my body wants something different. With his hands on my back, his chest pressed against mine, his legs holding my captive, his breath, his touch, his taste, his rigid cock working me over through the outside of my jeans … fuck!
I’m literally to the point where I have no fight in me. None. He was plastered, high, and probably had no sense left in his brain, but his first reaction was to buck up like a bear when it came to Lennox pummeling me.
Then, what the other three said, which made me piece everything together … I honestly don’t know if I should fight him right now. I can fuck him and not fall for him. I can kiss him and not feel anything more than what drives my baser instincts.
I can take everything he offers and go along my merry way when it all ends.
I can … At least, I hope I can.
His lips become rougher, suctioning over mine in a flurry of wet, wild, unhinged movements. I can only astute the change as him becoming
more aware of his surroundings and what he’s doing. Of him needing this closeness just as much as I … He will hurt you. Just like that man did, I think to myself, and somewhere in the back of my mind, it finally breaks through the lust-filled cloud floating around inside my mind. If only just barely.
“Callum,” I say, pressing a hand against his chest. Oh, God, he feels so good. I shake my head at the thought.
“Told you she was awake,” Quinn states proudly, but he’s not the one I’m focusing on right now as my eyes fly open to see Callum staring at me.
He’s very much awake and more alert than what I thought. I expect him to push away, but if anything, his grip tightens. His lips land back on mine with bruising force. His kisses become more unglued, almost frantic. Soon, we’re both groaning, moaning— losing ourselves.
Callum’s hand drops to my ass, grinding me against his hard shaft as he thrusts against me. I cry out into his mouth, my fingers rising to tighten in his hair. The growl of appreciation he releases causes me to tremble. The forcefulness of his fingers digging into my ass cause my panties to soak with a gush of wetness.
“Maybe we should leave them be?” I vaguely hear.
“Hell, no, this is hot.”
“God, I’m so fucking hard,” Ellis whispers. “You think they still hate each other, because I’ll be honest, if I don’t fuck someone soon I’m going to blow.”
His words penetrate my mind, halting my movements. Unclenching my fingers, I gasp for air as I break the kiss. “You don’t want this,” I whisper, panting for breath. “You don’t want me.”
“How do you know what I want?” he replies. As he searches my eyes, seeing the truth he probably wishes he could unsee, his eyes soon harden along with the rest of his body. “A year together, and you still don’t know a thing about me.”
“Callum, I-I need to—” I go to say, but he stops me by extracting himself as fast as he wove himself around me. Snapping into a seated position, my eyes pin to his stiff form. Please, just say this. Finally, get this out of your system. Squaring my shoulders, I force enough bravado in my voice even I am almost convinced. “This is something you should have let me explain years ago. Until I say this, I—we can’t allow this to happen.”
Break Me, Baby: A Reverse Harem High School Bully Romance (Silver Creek High Book 1) Page 15
