by Ashley Jade
And if Jace and Cole ever find out about this…hell, they might be.
I knew Bianca had been looking at me differently lately—like I’m her next goddamn victim—but I never thought she’d take it this far.
Shame courses through me like a boulder rolling downhill.
I almost fucked my best friends’ baby sister.
For fuck’s sake. She’s barely sixteen.
Grabbing my hoodie off the bed, I cover the erection poking through my boxers and turn on the light on the nightstand.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Bianca has the audacity to look offended as she throws the covers off, revealing the hot pink panties and bra barely covering her banging body.
Goddammit.
Biting my knuckle, I reach over and turn off the light, forcing my dick not to react to the sight of her.
Cute cuddly puppies and ugly nuns.
The stubborn brat flicks the light back on. “I live here, remember?”
“No,” I remind her, pointing to my front door. “You live out there.”
Actually, I’m pretty certain she resides in hell, but that’s beside the point.
I pay rent—not much, but it’s something—to live in her father’s guesthouse.
Not to be seduced by minors wearing hot pink panties that I want to tear off with my teeth.
Goddammit. Cute cuddly puppies and ugly nuns.
It’s bad enough I have to watch her go for her swims in her little bikinis every morning before she runs off to school, but sneaking into my bed in the middle of the night?
I never thought Bianca would do me dirty like that.
My dick throbs with need. Shit. Bad choice of words.
That’s when it dawns on me.
Bianca doesn’t do shit like this for no reason. There’s always a motive behind it.
Despite myself, I give her the benefit of the doubt because she’s never fucked with me before. Not like this.
“What kind of trouble are you in?”
She looks at me like I’ve sprouted another head. “Trouble? Why—”
“Because you’re blackmailing me.”
She blinks, like she doesn’t understand what I’m implying, before her lips twist into a malicious scowl. “Wow.” Slowly, she starts crawling over the bed, heading straight for me. “That’s what you really think?”
I grind my molars so hard I’m surprised they don’t turn to dust. “I know you, remember?”
“You’re right.” Before I can stop her, she runs her pink talons down my stomach. “But you’re forgetting something.”
Smacking her hand out of the way, I growl, “What’s that?”
She climbs out of my bed, backing me into the wall behind me. “You kissed me.” Irritation prickles my neck when her hand makes its way down my stomach again. “And by the looks of things, it appears you were enjoying our little make-out session. A lot.”
“You’re right…I was.” I wrap my hand around her wrist, halting her right before she grabs my junk. “Because I thought you were Hayley.”
I have no idea what to make of the expression on her face.
I can’t tell if she’s pissed, or genuinely hurt.
Who the fuck am I kidding? There’s a reason I dub her baby Satan.
Her gorgeous looks are every bit as lethal as she is.
Nothing about this wicked witch is genuine.
The sharp sting of her palm slapping my cheek has me biting back a groan.
Jace once joked that crazy bitches turned me on, and he wasn’t wrong. However, even I have my limits.
I’m about to tell her to leave, but like an animal that’s found its prey she rises on her tiptoes and slams her mouth against mine.
A second later the snake flicks her tongue.
I quickly come to my senses and push her away.
A little too hard because she falls back onto the bed.
The heated stare she gives me has me contemplating if it’s worth ruining my friendship with Jace and Cole.
Shitballs.
The fact that she would even put me in this position to begin with is fucked.
She knows I consider Jace and Cole my brothers. My family.
The little manipulating succubus.
Rage fills my veins as I tug her off the bed. “Get the fuck out.”
In the back of my mind, I know I’m probably being too rough with her, but she provoked the beast.
“You started it,” she seethes as I wrench her toward the door.
Under false pretenses.
“That may be true.” I twist the knob and push her outside. “But right now, I’m fucking ending it.”
For good.
I find her t-shirt near my front door and toss it at her. “Leave. Now.”
Her lower lip trembles. Damn, she’s good.
Just like my mother, Bianca wears her manipulating, scheming, vindictive traits like a crown of jewels and I want no part of it.
“Oakley—”
“Pull this shit again and I’ll tell Jace and Cole.”
It’s an idle threat. I might be an honorary member of their family, but I’m not blood. Bianca has them both wrapped around her little finger and I know they’ll believe whatever version of events she decides to give them.
Tonight might earn me an ass-kicking but it won’t destroy our friendship because I didn’t do anything with her intentionally.
I never would. Not even with my worst enemy’s dick.
“Goddammit, Bianca. What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” Disgust rolls through me. “You have no right sneaking into grown men’s beds in the middle of the night.” I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Do you have any idea what I would have done to you?”
Bianca doesn’t have an innocent bone in her body, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that I’ve watched her grow up before my very eyes.
My stomach churns with degradation.
I can still remember the little girl with frizzy hair who wore glasses and had a mouth full of braces.
The girl who used to cry whenever I had a seizure because she got scared…but then would dry her eyes when it was over so she could make me grilled cheese and tomato soup.
The girl who would never do something like this to me.
She smirks seductively. “As a matter of fact, I do.” Her nostrils flare. “Don’t you dare stand there and act like you didn’t want it.”
So much for trying to reason with her.
My laugh is callous. “Once I realized who was in my bed?” I get dangerously close to her face. “Not even a little.”
I’ll never go there with her. Ever.
Baby Satan’s big brown eyes become glassy. “Oakley.”
For fuck’s sake. Does she really think those crocodile tears will work with me?
“Give me one good reason why—”
“Because I don’t want you,” I roar, the tendons in my neck straining with rage. “I’ll never fucking want you.”
Because she’s exactly like the first bitch who broke my heart.
Which means I need to stay far away.
For good.
Chapter 6
Bianca
I toss and turn in the twin-size bed in my dorm room, trying my hardest to fall asleep…but it’s pointless.
My mind keeps firing off questions I don’t have the answers for, refusing to settle down.
This whole time I thought Hayley was driving the car I was in during the accident…but as it turns out, it was this Oakley guy.
A guy I can’t recall ever meeting before today.
And given I have no memory of him…I’m not sure why I was with him in the car to begin with?
I massage my pounding temples, but when that doesn’t help, I reach across my nightstand for the prescription bottle.
Grabbing my water bottle next, I pop a capsule into my mouth and swallow.
I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately due to anxiety, so my doctor prescribed m
e some pills to make it easier.
Truth be told, I hate taking them because they make me feel like a zombie the next day, but I have a statistics quiz in the morning, and I need all the rest I can get.
Rolling over in bed, I force my eyes to close.
Because after I pass my quiz tomorrow…
I have every intention of getting to the bottom of this.
Past…
I can feel him watching me.
He’s liable to slit his throat before he’ll ever admit it…but every so often those gorgeous blue eyes slide my way.
Even though I’m not the girl he’s supposed to be fixated on.
That girl would be Morgan.
As if on cue, her gaze joins his.
No surprise there. My bitch is thirsty.
And he has no idea.
Fighting back a smile, I lick my lips and adjust the strings to my black one-piece bathing suit.
I’m seriously regretting not going with my orange bikini—Oakley’s favorite color—but I don’t like showing the scar on my lower stomach to many people.
Besides, it’s a happy occasion since we’re supposed to be celebrating my birthday and all.
Even though I don’t turn eighteen for another few days.
However, Jace and Cole made plans with their girls, who happen to be besties—insert eye roll—to go on some kind of couples trip next week.
Which means I had to settle for a goddamn backyard BBQ pool party.
Not that I’m bitter or anything.
No, I’m fucking pissed.
I’ve been waiting my whole life to turn eighteen and neither of them give a shit.
Cole I’m not so angry at because his fiancée Sawyer is the closest thing I have to a real friend. But Jace?
I hate that bitch of his with a passion that’s out of this world.
If she never led Liam—my brother who committed suicide…
Oh, I’m sorry. Did that little tidbit make you uncomfortable?
Well, I suggest you buckle your seatbelt, honey. Because we haven’t even cracked the surface of my fucked-up life.
Anyway, if Dylan had never led Liam on and agreed to go to the junior high dance with him the night he committed suicide, Liam might still be here.
Needless to say, I’ll never forgive her.
However, she makes Jace happy—sickeningly happy—so I dig deep and find a way to tolerate her most of the time.
Because I’ll do anything for my brothers.
Even when they’re royal douchebags.
“Burgers and steaks are almost done,” Jace announces as he flips one over on the large grill.
Narrowing my eyes, I clear my throat. Loudly.
Smirking, Jace adds, “Including the birthday girl’s veggie burger.”
“Well, wonders never cease,” I mutter. “For once you didn’t forget about me.”
I’m happy for Jace and Cole, but it’s hard not being the main girl in their lives anymore. And by hard? I mean it hurts like hell.
Jace frowns. “Bianc—”
I don’t get to hear the end of his sentence because someone turns the raft I was happily floating on over and I fall into the pool.
Given I was unprepared, I get a mouthful of water and cough as I reach the surface.
Immediately, I zero in on the assailant. Cole.
Go freaking figure. He’s always pushing people’s buttons.
Still coughing, I punch his throwing arm as hard as I can. “Dick.”
He shrugs innocently. “What? You looked hot. I was helping you out.” His smirk matches Jace’s. “Although now you look like a racoon.” He cocks an eyebrow. “Why do you have that shit on your face anyway? You’re in the pool.”
As much as I love him…there are times I hate him.
Seriously fucking hate him.
I’m wearing makeup for the same reason every other girl does.
To look good enough to impress a stupid boy.
A stupid boy who happens to be both my brothers’ best friend.
A stupid boy who stole the thing beating in my chest with a single kiss.
A stupid boy who claims he wants nothing to do with me.
Even though we used to be friends.
With an irritated grunt, I make my way toward the pool steps and march into the guesthouse.
Otherwise known as Oakley’s home.
Yeah, I know. Complicated.
Take my word for it. There is nothing worse than knowing the one person you want, the one person you can’t have lives in your back yard.
Part of me wants him to move out because the reminder sucks balls, but the bigger part of me—the dumb senseless part ruled by an even dumber organ—wants him to stay forever.
Either way, the close proximity makes it easy to keep tabs on him.
I’m closing the door to the bathroom when Morgan slips past it.
I open my mouth to tell her to fuck off, but I can’t because she slams hers over mine.
Fucking hell. Here we go.
I’ve told her time and time again that if she wants to dine on my pussy and get me off that’s cool, but we’re not in a relationship.
“I missed you,” she whispers.
I roll my eyes so hard I swear I see my brain.
“You saw me yesterday,” I remind her.
Her face scrunches. “I saw you, but I didn’t really see you.”
Oh, she means my cunt. “My brothers are right outside.”
She attacks me with her lips again, only this time I open my mouth and let her tongue brush against mine before I pull away.
Because the more she wants me…the less she wants him.
“I’ll be quick. Promise.”
“You have five minutes,” I agree. “And since it’s my birthday, you better make it good.”
Dropping to her knees, she moves the bottom of my bathing suit to the side. “Don’t worry, sexy. I got you.”
A moment later she spears my pussy with her tongue.
What started off as a way to manipulate her last year quickly turned into…well, this.
Back when I was in tenth grade Morgan used to hate my guts. But then in typical me fashion, I took her spot as upcoming cheerleading captain and kicked her off my damn squad.
Once my junior year and her senior year rolled around and she realized she was a nobody, she begged me to let her back on the squad.
I told her if she was willing to do anything to earn her place she had to meet me at the marina at the stroke of midnight.
I had every intention of fucking with her because I honestly didn’t think she’d agree to the terms, but Morgan surprised us both when her head dipped underneath my cheerleading skirt and she feasted on my freshly waxed hoo-ha like it was her last meal.
Hell, the girl enjoyed it more than I did. And given how experienced she was, it was definitely not her first time eating some coochie.
Of course, I promptly whipped out my phone—intending to score some blackmail on her for safekeeping—but that’s when I noticed the parking lot wasn’t so abandoned after all.
Stone DaSilva—the younger brother of the biggest piece of shit on the planet, Tommy DaSilva—was enjoying the show.
And making a little recording of his own.
I inwardly shudder.
The things I had to do to get him to erase it are things I never want to think about again. Fucking douche donut.
I look down at Morgan. “You’re gonna have to do better.” I grab the back of her neck. “Suck it.”
Her hot mouth suctions around my clit. Much better.
I should probably feel bad about taking advantage of her, but I’ve been open and honest with Morgan about what this is—and what this isn’t—from the beginning.
It’s not my fault she keeps coming back to my cunt like a moth to a flame.
Morgan’s a full-blown undercover lesbo—which is awfully ironic because her father is some rich senator who openly hates gay people—but it’s shitty that sh
e doesn’t feel like she can be who she really is.
I’d probably have more respect for her if she was.
Maybe Oakley would too, because he uses her for his needs just as much as I do.
Then again, Morgan seems to enjoy being used.
Poor girl didn’t get enough affection from her parents.
It’s almost comical how much a fucked-up childhood can turn you into an even more fucked-up adult.
Not to mention all the kinky shit it can stir up.
Take Oakley for example. His mom abandoned him and his dad to be a dope whore when he was four.
According to Oakley, she was a beautiful tall blonde.
Can you guess what Oakley’s type is?
That’s right. Gold star for you.
I grab a fist full of Morgan’s blonde hair. “Make me come, slut.”
Normally, I don’t slut shame unless it’s deserved, but it turns Morgan on and makes her get me off that much quicker.
Plus, it helps me get all my resentment about her screwing my man out so I don’t have to cause her bodily harm on the daily.
I call our little arrangement a win-win.
I also call it temporary because she’ll be going off to college after the summer.
I have no doubt she’ll find a hot chick who likes munching carpets as much as she does.
And then she’ll be out of my hair—and Oakley’s—for good.
“That’s it,” I whisper as she works me. “Good girl.”
My legs begin to tremble as ripples of pleasure rip through me.
And then my mind does that thing. That thing where it seems to separate from my body.
I call it a protection mechanism, but psychology calls it disassociation.
I’m not sure why I do it whenever I orgasm with someone other than myself, but if I had to guess?
I’d say it was my way of ensuring they don’t get all of me.
Sex—not that I’ve had a cock inside me yet—is nothing but a physical stimulation that humans are fundamentally programmed to want.
The moment my orgasm is over, I fix my bathing suit and head for the door without so much as a thank you.
“Bianca,” Morgan whispers, her voice trembling as I turn the knob.
Nope. Ain’t nobody got time for a stage-five clinger.
My stomach dips the moment I close the door behind me.
