Wicked Needs
Page 1
First eBook Edition
Copyright © L A Cotton 2018
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
If you are reading a copy of this book that has not been purchased from a licensed retailer, please destroy it. Thank you for your support.
Edited by Andrea M Long
Cover Designed by Lianne Cotton
Images licensed from Adobe Stock and Shutterstock
Also by L. A. Cotton
Chastity Falls
Loyalty and Lies
Salvation and Secrets
Tribulation and Truths
Affliction
Redemption and Regrets
Penance and Promises
Absolution
Fate's Love
Fate's Love
Love's Spark
Love Collides
Liar Liar
Liar Liar
Truth or Dare
The Maverick Defense Series
Deliverance
Wicked Bay
Wicked Beginnings
Wicked Rules
Wicked Lies
Wicked Games
Wicked Needs
Wicked Surprise
Wicked Hearts (Coming Soon)
Standalone
Lucky Penny
Chastity Falls: Box Set
Chastity Falls: Limited Edition Box Set
Watch for more at L. A. Cotton’s site.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By L. A. Cotton
Wicked Needs (Wicked Bay, #5)
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
About the Author
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Also By L. A. Cotton
Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is let someone love you
~ N. R. Hart
Prologue
I read the text again, feeling a frisson of anticipation spread through my veins. “Hey, Kara,” I said to my friend over the music. “I need to pee. I’ll be back.”
She nodded, going back to her conversation with our small group, and I wound my way through the house. Luke Taffia, my brother’s best friend, sure knew how to throw a party. But thanks to the Californian summer, most kids had moved outside to the patio to cool down. Which meant I was less likely to be caught. Still, it didn’t stop me from glancing around when I reached the stairs. Just in case.
Coast clear, I made my way up to the first floor, sticking close to the walls, the shadows dancing along the hall. My heart hammering in my chest with every step.
This was wrong.
On so many levels, it was wrong. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
And neither could he.
It had started off as a drunken mistake. Too many Jell-O shots and a bad case of wrong place, wrong time.
Really bad.
But five weeks later, and we were still meeting in darkened rooms. Leaving our shit at the door and losing ourselves in desperate touches and all-consuming kisses.
Tonight was different though.
Tonight, my brother and his girlfriend were here. And if they knew what I was about to do... I shuddered, shutting down that line of thought. Besides, this wasn’t about them. They had their happy fucking ending.
No, this was about me. About the darkness that plagued my soul and rendered me numb. So what, if I was making some less than stellar choices? My brother had spent a year stepping into a crudely formed ring and beating the shit out of strangers, to deal with his demons.
At least, this way no one ended up hurt. Not really. Not as long as it remained a secret.
The end of the hallway loomed up ahead, marked by a huge frosted-glass window and I paused, doubting myself. It was all I did lately. My head was a noisy place to be, and I just wanted it to stop. For the endless questions, and crippling fear and anger to stop.
Maybe this was a huge mistake, maybe—
The door creaked open, startling me, and I almost turned and walked away.
I almost made the right decision.
But his eyes glittered in the abyss, calling to the black parts of my soul. Which is why, when he offered me his hand, I took it. Yanking me into the darkness, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me back into his chest. Eager fingers slid up my neck, tilting my head to the side. His tongue swiped across the sensitive skin between my ear and jaw and I moaned.
“I missed you,” he said, the door clicking shut behind us.
“No, you didn’t,” I replied. “You missed this.” I turned in his arms, slamming my mouth down on his. He greedily accepted, parting his lips, letting my tongue glide against his.
Ever since that first night, we always met like this.
At parties.
Lights off.
With limited conversation.
As we kissed away our frustrations, his hands traced the curve of my collarbone, dipping down to my breasts. I arched into him, but he knew the deal by now, and no words were spoken as his tongue followed his fingers as they tugged the material down over my breast. And then he was sucking the pebbled skin, drawing my nipple into his mouth. Heat flashed through me, a bolt of lightning igniting a firestorm in my core, and I rubbed shamelessly against his thigh.
“So eager,” he whispered.
“Shut up,” I panted, gripping his hair, guiding him back to my chest, urging him to give me more.
More.
More.
Anything to make it all go away.
MACEY PRINCE TASTED like coconut and sea salt. And I couldn’t get enough.
Go figure.
I’d never looked at her like that before waking up naked beside her with the hangover from hell, but lately... well, lately she was all I saw.
“Are you wet for me?” I smirked, knowing she couldn’t see me in the darkness. She still tensed, hating the way I affected her. Because I did affect her. It was right there in the way her breath caught and her fingers dug that little bit harder into my scalp.
Since she refused to engage in conversation during our ‘meetings’, I decided to find out for myself. Trailing a finger down her ribcage and over the sliver of skin between her cropped tank top and skirt, I lingered at her waistband. Bringing my mouth back up to her, she pulled away, trying to regain the higher ground. But I’d learned a thing or two about Macey during the last few weeks.
Letting her hold court with the kiss, I ran my hand lower, finding the hem of her skirt and I brushed my fingers back and forth over her soaked panties. Her legs quivered, and I smirked again.
She could pretend this—us—wasn’t working for her. That it was just something to pass the time, but truth was, I got her off.
And the feeling was more than mutual.
I held off touching her where she needed me most. Waiting for that magical moment when Macey Prince let her walls down and begged.
Three... Two...
“Please,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire.
Hooking the damp material to one side, I gave her what she wanted. She cried out as I pushed two fingers deep inside her, wrapping my other arm around her to keep her steady. I crushed my lips against hers, swallowing her moans. It was messy and dirty and...
So. Fucking. Hot.
My thumb worked her clit as she rolled her hips into my hand, taking more. I craved to see her expression, to see her eyes as I brought her to the brink and then watch as they shattered with stars as she fell over the edge. But it was always the same.
No lights.
No stay overs.
No goodbyes.
And until recently, it had been working just fine.
“God, don’t stop. I’m so close. I’m... so... close,” she breathed between kisses, her body trembling with pleasure.
I speared my fingers inside her and she came undone, melting against me as she rode out her orgasm. And although I knew she hated it, although I knew she’d make me pay later, I couldn’t resist tasting her. Withdrawing my fingers, I brought them to my mouth and sucked them clean. Groaning for effect.
“I hate you,” she whispered shakily.
But it didn’t sound like hate at all.
It sounded like something that could change everything.
Chapter 1
Three months later
What’s that saying? If you can’t beat them, join them?
As I stared out at the crowd of people crammed into one of the football team player’s houses, I couldn’t deny that little old saying was looking good right about now. Alcohol made things blurry. If you drank enough, it made you numb. And numb was a damn sight better than feeling. The anger. The festering bitterness. The pain.
I’d take feeling the buzz of alcohol in my veins any day over that.
I don’t know when things got so bad—strike that, yeah, I do. My whole life, people had let me down. My mom. My dad. Even the one person I never expected, my brother. Disappointment was the soundtrack of my life. But I knew a sure-fire way to make it all disappear.
Snatching another shot off the tray, I brought it to my lips, ignoring the overpowering smell, and knocked it back.
“Jeez, girl, you had like four of those things already,” Kara, my friend, said around a tight grimace.
“Lighten up, K,” I sneered. “It’s a party.” Barging past her and our group of friends—if you could call them that—I made a beeline for the counter where the hard liquor was.
“Easy there,” a deep voice washed over me as I struggled to uncap the vodka. “Let me help— shit, Macey? Macey Prince?”
My eyes slid to the guy’s and his brows knitted together. I recognized him from my brother’s class, but he wasn’t in his inner circle. They graduated earlier this year, and it’d been a long summer—really fucking long—and I didn’t make a habit of making friends, so it wasn’t any wonder I couldn’t remember his name.
“My bad,” he went on. “I didn’t realize...”
“Realize what?” I leaned back against the counter, arching my brow. Even though I could sense his wariness, I didn’t miss the way his eyes drifted down my body.
I smirked to myself. It was always the same. Even if their dicks wanted a piece of the Prince princess, their consciences wouldn’t let them go there.
“N-nothing,” he choked out when his eyes landed back on my face. “It’s just... I... well, your Maverick Prince’s little sister.”
Maverick Prince’s little sister.
There had been a time I’d liked that title. Now it just pissed me off. As if being his sister made me some coveted prize; to be looked at and never touched.
“I don’t bite, you know,” I said, tilting my head and letting my gaze drift down his body. “Despite what people might say. What’s your name?”
“Brody Kane. I had a couple of classes with your brother.”
Of course he did.
Brody let out a strained laugh and backed up an inch, raking his hand through messy-blond hair. “Right, yeah. I... hmm, I should go.” He turned to walk away, but I snagged his wrist.
“Stay. Talk... Drink.” My eyes flicked to the array of bottles lining the counter.
Hesitation glittered in his eyes and for a second, a tiny foolish second, I actually believed he might stick around, but then his walls went up and he started backing away. “Go, I should—”
“And here was me thinking you looked like you actually had balls.” His eyes widened as he stumbled over a reply, but I added, “Whatever,” and waved him off, turning my attention back to the bottle of vodka.
Vodka was steady. It didn’t bolt at the first sound of the Prince name. And it never wanted anything in return. After pouring myself a drink and adding a double measure of vodka just to be sure, I weaved back through the house to find Kara.
“Mace, over here.” She waved, and I joined our group. But when her eyes went to my glass, she frowned. “Is that—”
I cut her off with a hard look. “I’m fine.”
Her expression was less than convinced but now wasn’t the time for girls talk. Besides, my patience for her mom-style lectures on my recent partying habits were wearing thin.
“Kara, Trina... Macey.”
Caitlin Holloway, cheer captain and Wicked Bay High head bitch breezed up to us, air kissing Trina and Kara. “Thank God, you made it. Is it me or is Lonnie letting anyone in these days?” Her eyes flicked to a group of juniors huddled in the corner, all starry-eyed and gawking.
“I heard Matty has a thing for the redhead.”
“Matty has a thing for anything with a vagina.” Caitlin rolled her eyes. “Speaking of Matty, where’s Kyle?” Her question was directed at me.
I shrugged, barely making eye contact with her. “How the hell should I know?”
“He is your brother.”
“Stepbrother. And just because we live together doesn’t mean I keep tabs on him. I’m not his diary.”
Kara shot me a ‘calm down’ look, but screw that. I was so sick of people always assuming I knew where Kyle was, or how Maverick was doing at college. As if we came as a package deal.
“What crawled up your ass and—”
“Stone,” someone yelled. “About damn time you showed up.”
My spine straightened, and I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Kyle Stone, my stepbrother and royal-pain-in-the-ass, enter the house with his girlfriend Laurie and his cousin Lo.
“Mace, that you?” His voice cut through the noise, but I was already moving. “Mace, come on...” The music drowned out his pleas as I slipped out the back door and onto the deck. A couple of guys raised a brow at me, but I ignored them, making my way down to the beach. The salty sea air clung to my damp skin, but it was nice, despite the cooling temperatures.
Stopping at the edge of the path, I downed the rest of my drink, dropped the cup in a trash can and kicked off my sandals, letting my feet sink into the sand. When Kara had mentioned the party at Lonnie’s house, I had almost made an excuse. I wasn’t exactly good company lately. But she was one of the few people who didn’t let my icy exterior faze her, and, in the end, she persuaded me. Besides, parties meant alcohol. And that I could get on board with.
My cell phone vibrated, and I pulled it out of my pocket, half expecting to see Kara or Kyle’s name. My heart did a little flip and then sank at the unknown but all too familiar number on the screen.
Unknown: I want you. Tonight?
Me: I told you already. No.
Unknown: Come on, Macey. You need me. You need this. Fuck knows, I do.
Tears pricked my eyes as I clutched
my phone to my chest. He promised. He promised he wouldn’t keep texting me. Yet ever since I ended things almost two weeks ago, he’d refused to let it drop.
Me: You have to stop texting me. If anyone finds out... They can’t know, okay? They can NEVER know.
Unknown: You think I’m stupid? Prince would put me in the ground if he found out I knew the taste of his sister.
Heat pooled in my stomach and I pressed my thighs together while quietly cursing into the inky night. Damn him and damn my traitorous fickle body. I should have just turned off my cell. Instead, my fingers hovered over the screen, itching to reply. Itching to tell him to go to hell and leave me alone. Instead I went with something simple and to the point.
Me: Don’t text me again.
His reply came straight through.
Unknown: Fine. But we’re not done, Princess. Not by a long shot.
He wasn’t going to make this easy. But I couldn’t give in. I couldn’t be that girl anymore. Even if butterflies fluttered wildly in my stomach when I read his words. He’d made me feel good, made me forget about everything. But it was always fleeting. When the sun came up and the buzz of alcohol subsided, I remembered who we were. Because despite being a bitch, despite pushing everyone around me away, if the truth came out and people found out about us, I wasn’t the only one who stood to get hurt.
And I couldn’t let that happen.
I couldn’t.
EVERYTHING HURT AS my eyes flickered open. Clumps of mascara clung to my lashes like dried cement, and my mouth was drier than the Sahara. But my stomach ... ugh, my stomach felt all wrong, as if it’d been turned inside out, spun around and then shoved back inside me.
Gingerly, I rolled onto my back, breathing through the intense waves of nausea. I was certain there was nothing left to puke up, but I was also pretty sure if I made any sudden movements it was exactly what would happen. So I lay there, still and silent, trying to sift through the murky memories of the night before. But they were unreachable. A black cloud cloaking them.
The party hadn’t been anything special. Just another in a long line of bad memories and even worse hangovers.