Love Me, Baby: A High School Bully Romance (Silver Creek High Book 3)

by Belladona Cunning

  My father and Whitney had it all backwards. To get to someone, hit them where it hurts. Debra only suffered when it was a threat against her social prominence and pocketbook. Even then, I’m sure what people thought of her meant more.

  When I told him as such, he clammed up. He wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t acknowledge that I could be right, and I think that’s what hurt the most. That I called him out on his bullshit approach, and he took it like a pubescent boy. I’m sorry, but I spent quite a bit of time with that witch. I know her, even though I’d rather swallow nails than be in the same room as her.

  After that, he’d dismissed me. He treated me like I was a member of his staff, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t hurt. It did. I also knew he wanted to say more, admit something, but he was allowing his emotions, or lack thereof, to impede business.

  In this life, you can’t allow your emotions to guide you. Yes, it’s okay to lose yourself behind closed doors. But the moment you’re out in the world, you need to clam up and focus on the main goal. The end game is the only thing that matters, and I believe, for a split second, he forgot that.

  “Are you asleep?” Quinn asks, and a smile tilts my lips.

  “Would it matter if I was?” There’s a bit of teasing in my voice.

  I watch, tight-lipped, as he closes the door behind him, then makes his way over to my new bed. It’s large enough to fit an entire football team on, which is amazing, but still, makes me feel very much alone. In my twin size bed at home, there wasn’t enough room to think too much about it. But here, it’s all I can think about.

  I don’t even feel the bed dip as he places one knee on the edge. Yeah, that’s how big this bed is. It’s humongous.

  “I tried to stay away, but I couldn’t,” he says, making my heart squeeze and butterflies bloom.

  “Then don’t.”

  Through the pale moonlight shining through the floor to ceiling windows, I watch as Quinn crawls closer and closer, until he settles in right next to me. The bed, now, dips from his weight as he slides his body underneath the covers. I’m about to ask him what he’s doing, but he shocks me when he maneuvers my body so I’m lying across his chest. His actions are so gentle.

  His deep exhale of relief wraps me in a cocoon of balminess and protection. I can’t acutely describe the way I feel when I’m with any of them, but the closest I can get would be to say it’s akin to my version of a happy place.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, pressing my cheek to his chest. “My dad will kill you if he finds out.”

  He chuckles. “He’s snoring up a storm. The only person awake is Davis, and I know that fucker won’t say shit. Not when he has Karma in the room with him.”

  My eyes widen in the dark, a smile forming on my lips. “No way.”

  I turn to look up at him, seeing his teeth shine in the moonlight, eyes glittering with untapped sexual energy. My God, he’s beautiful. “Oh, yes. I’m surprised your father can sleep through that. I heard them when I was climbing up the side of the house. That girl sounds like a banshee on steroids.”

  I break out into a fit of giggles against his chest, covering the bottom half of my face with my quilt to keep quiet. I don’t know why, considering my father’s master bedroom is on the other side of this sickening house, but I do.

  What’s even more hilarious is the fact that this is out of the norm for my best friend. She’s a free spirit, yes, but she isn’t the type to break the rules her parents make. It must be serious between them, or she’d be at home in her own bed.

  “His room is on the other side of the house about a million miles away.”

  Quinn laughs under his breath as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside. It isn’t like the taunting laughter he did at school with Carrie, but it’s this husky, laid back chuckle—a deep release that causes a tremble to cut me all the way to the bone.

  But just as quick at the laughter comes it goes, and along with it, a peaceful silence spreads. The only sound is our deep breathing, and the feel of his fingertips trailing along my side. I shiver at his touch, nearly moaning when each graze flames across my skin.

  He has no idea what his touch does to me. Even a touch as simple as this. Quinn has been the one out of all of them that has his strings taut just right, making me feel like I’m the only girl in his world. It’s crazy how you can feel so close to someone.

  For years, it’s been me. I closed myself off to the world romantically and thought I would never look back. But these guys, they changed all that. They slowly broke down the shield I had holding people at bay. I don’t know when or how, but they burrowed themselves in deep, and now, I don’t want to know what it would feel like without them—all of them.

  The longer we lay there, the hotter I burn for him. I’m still achy, my ribs scream with pain each time I move wrong, but I need him. I don’t want to feel empty anymore, which is exactly how I’ve felt since the last time Quinn pushed inside me. I need this; I need something from him, and I’m nearly vibrating just thinking about it.

  My breathing deepens as I slide my hand along his chest. My heart races as I feel the strong muscles along his chest, my fingertips grazing across his manly nipples.

  Quinn sucks in a sharp breath. It gives me the courage I need to push my hand under the cover, but before I can make my move—hopefully, to put myself out of my misery—he stops me with a soft hand on the back of mine.

  “Jess, I need to tell you something,” Quinn states, his body growing tauter beneath mine.

  “Can it wait? I’m actually comfortable right now and I kind of had other ideas,” I say in a laughing tone. When really, on the inside, my stomach flips with arousal.

  Quinn only gets serious about a certain number of things, and he couldn’t have chosen a worse moment. One, when it has something to do with him, personally. Two, when it pertains to his friends. Three, when someone tries to hurt me.

  So, even if I don’t want to hear what he has to say, I know it’s inevitable. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have brought it up in a time like this, when I want his body and not his words.

  “Unfortunately, this can’t wait.” His tone screams “no argument,” which is exactly what I want to do. I want to argue this until I’m blue in the face. There are only so many things I can handle in a day and finding out what I did today with my father, I need a second to breathe.

  Just a second, that’s all I’m asking.

  A second of touching, kissing, and maybe some light fondling.

  Signing, I say, “Out with it then.”

  It takes several minutes for him to say anything, the stillness in the air our only company. I’m probably going to hate this.

  “Do you remember in the lunchroom when Callum let Alessandra sit on his lap?” Everything inside made burns when he mentions it.

  “Yes,” I whisper quietly, all the while my anger swirls inside.

  “Do you remember when Callum started dating Alessandra again when we came back for the school year?”

  “Yes,” I grit out, my hold around his midsection tightening to the point of pain.

  He grunts, taking my wrists in his hand to extract my hold. Then, he scoots up on the bed to where his back presses against the headboard. He says nothing, and I know he’s warring within himself over how he should approach the topic.

  Well, I’ll be the first to tell him he shouldn’t have approached it this way. Not at all. The only thing it will cause is more anger from me toward Callum. I just know it will.

  “I’m tired of you being in the dark on why Callum did what he did.”

  He’s so confusing. Quinn needs to tell me whatever it is he’s trying to say, or I will be a blistering ball of rage within the next two seconds. Just at the mention of the supreme queen bee, herself, and I want to throat punch him.

  Sitting up, I fight through the pain in my side and push away from him. His arms automatically reach for me, but I bat them away, ignoring the hurt look that crosses his face. He doesn�
�t get to play hurt in a time like this. My entire life has been one well fabricated lie after another, and I’m sick of it. There are too many secrets and the only way to come out of this on the other side alive will be to know them all.

  He has to see that, right? Because he’s here, telling me all this when it’s not even his place to utter a word. It’s Callum’s.

  “Explain. Now.”

  He exhales, then closes his eyes tightly. “He didn’t get back with Alessandra because he wanted to. They forced him into the relationship.”

  Disgust coats my inside, then spills out from between my lips.

  “They? What?” My mouth hangs open in shock.

  Quinn’s soulful eyes open and hold mine, his gaze dropping to my lips. He leans over, planting his against mine almost reverently as he whispers, “He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t lie. Not when every time he saw you watching them, you looked like you were dying on the inside. He wants you, Jess. More than I’ve seen him want any other girl in the years we’ve known each other.”

  “Why did he have to in the first place? Who forced him? Why?” I fire off question after question, and it isn’t until I feel Quinn’s hands on my shoulders, his eyes searching mine, that I stop.

  “I can’t tell you that. All I can say is that she said nothing could come of him drudging up the past. He, ah, also told me a few more things, but that’s something you must discuss with him. I just thought you needed to know.”

  “But—”

  Putting his arm around me, he slides back down in the bed, being mindful of the wound on my head and my aching ribs. He presses a kiss to my crown, then sighs, like he’s releasing a world of stress from his shoulders.

  It feels so good being pressed up against him like this. But it doesn’t stop the thoughts from whirling around my mind. Callum said nothing about being forced into anything. Actually, he looked like he enjoyed every minute with Alessandra while they were dating. It wasn’t until that standoff in the hallway, which I thought was a complete and total coverup, he let it slip he was never invested in her; that he didn’t want to be with her.

  There’s no way it could be that simple. That someone forced him into the relationship, and the first chance he got, he ditched Alessandra. You can’t fake the type of emotions Callum had on his face, in his body language. I’ve been faking things for years, and I would have been able to spot his charade a mile away. I saw nothing. Only two people enjoying their time together.

  However, there’s still a small part of me that doesn’t quite believe it. I mean, would you go from someone like Alessandra Lennox to Jessalyn Savoy? I’m not ugly or anything like that, but it is a step down on the social ladder. And the Mrs. Lockridge I remember is all about that social life. She’s an elite when it comes to dinner parties, events, and all that jazz. She likes to be seen, while doing her business behind closed doors.

  Callum’s father actually likes me. Or so he seemed to when Callum and I were freshmen. He welcomed me within the Lockridge fold and didn’t look back. Even at the dinner party, he spent more time asking me how I’ve been and if I needed anything, like Callum and I were still together. I mean, we are, but that’s beside the point. Callum’s father doesn’t know that. At least, not the extent of our feelings to one another.

  I mull it over and over in my mind, no closer to sleep than I was before Quinn slipped in through my doors. I’m almost sick of the unanswered questions, but more seem to sprout out of nowhere. I almost feel like I’m going crazy with all this shit inside my mind. I can’t focus, can barely think. But during all of that, that’s when it clicks.

  Like a shooting star blasting through the crystal-clear night sky, I shoot up in bed. My hand shoots to my side as I cry out, Quinn coming to my side in an instant. His hands roam over mine, caressing softly, but that’s the furthest thing from my mind.

  “It was Mrs. Lockridge, wasn’t it?” I murmur barely above a whisper. “She’s the one that told him not to get back with me.”

  “You’ll have to ask Callum, sweetheart,” he says in a gruff, sleep addled tone. “They’re coming over tomorrow. Should be here at daylight to talk about school.”

  I want to say more, to impede on him how important it is that he tells me. My hatred drains a part of my soul that’s simply clinging by a thread. I don’t want hatred anymore; I don’t want to keep hating someone if it’s not their fault to begin with. It’s a waste of energy.

  He lies back down, bringing me with him, albeit reluctantly. His chest falls with his release of breath, and soon it evens out, letting me know he’s fallen asleep with me glued to his side. But there’s no way sleep will claim me now. Not when all of this is going through my mind.

  If someone forbade Callum to give me a second glance, then why?

  CHAPTER 6

  The door knocks back against the wall with a loud thud. “Rise and shine, princess!” A loud, boisterous voice echoes off my walls, scaring me out of a deep, restful sleep.

  Jumping up, I groan at the blooming ache in my side as my arm catches on something very soft, yet hard at the same time. Even in my sleep coated mind, I know exactly what that is. It’s even more apparent when I hear a grunt as air whooshes from Quinn’s lungs.

  His eyes pop open as he curls into himself. “Fuck me. Ah—”

  Scrambling off him, I push my hair out of my face. I wrap my arm around my ribs as I settle away from him on the bed. Once I do, I come face-to-face with a fiery glare from Quinn. Giving him a look, as if to say, “it’s not my fault, it’s that douches,” I jerk a hand over my shoulder, pointing toward him with my thumb.

  He gets a quizzical look in his eyes, then peers around me. A scowl morphs his lips, but he tries to tamp it down. And can I just say, it makes him look so much hotter when he’s all sleep mussed and scowling? His hair is in a state of disarray, and it looks like he doesn’t sleep better than I do.

  You know those books you read where the guy wakes up looking all refreshed and sexy? Well, Quinn looks sexy, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not at all refreshed looking. Instead, he looks like he wants to commit murder. Looks like he wants to take a pistol and point it between his eyes, then smile while he fires.

  It’s weirdly arousing.

  “Asher, you little bastard,” he grumbles.

  As my mind wakes up a bit more, my heart flutters in my chest. Quinn slept here all night cuddled against me. That’s not something I expect any of them to do, but I can’t deny it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  My eyes trail over the very naked torso where the quilt fell down to his lap. His abs ripple as he stretches backwards, the tendons in his arms and chest stretching tight. My mouth waters at the sight of so many muscles and tattoos on display, I know I won’t be able to keep the lust out of my gaze. There’s something so erotic about a guy that acts like his body wasn’t created for the female populace in mind.

  Licking my lips, my eyes flare with heat. My body buzzes with a familiar energy I know and love. Even through the ache in my side, I want Quinn.

  “You keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, and we’ll spend all day in bed.” As if punctuating his point, his cock jerks underneath the duvet, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up.

  I’m practically panting, all rational thought leaving my head, as I reach for him. In a daze, I run the tip of my pointer finger up the underneath of his cock. He shifts on the bed, growling softly under his breath as he inhales deeply. Wrapping my fingers around him, I put just enough pressure and start slowly stroking him. His chin drops to his chest, and he puts all his weight on his hands, thrusting upward into my hand.

  “Just like that,” he whispers gruffly, groaning; his head falling back on his shoulders as his eyes close. My knees close of their own accord and I shift, trying to ease the ache blooming in my core.

  “Quinn, you fucking asshole!”

  My ministrations instantly cease, and Quinn peers around me as I look back over my shoulder, spying a seething
Asher with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Something you need, lover boy?” Quinn drawls nonchalantly, but even I can hear the bitter undertone in his words.

  Asher goes red in the face, then points toward us. “Her father said no guys in the room. No guys in the goddamn room, Quinn. Do you know what he can—” He stops immediately with wide eyes, almost like he said too much. It has my head tilting to the side in silent question. “Just get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast,” he eventually huffs out, then stomps toward the door.

  Once he’s out of the room, I turn on Quinn—the damn guy that has the same exact expression on his face.

  “Spill it.” I narrow my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, appearing steadfast and stern. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll spill the beans. Or … or, I don’t know what I’ll do but it won’t be pleasant, I can tell you that with extreme certainty.

  He exhales as he gets out of the bed. I make no move to stop him, because honestly, I’d rather have his space and the truth, then his closeness and lies.

  “It’s not my place to say, sweetheart.”

  “That cute little nickname will not save you this time.” I get out of the bed—naked and uncaring, even when he stops what he’s doing and peers down at me with such heat it scorches my skin.

  “Looking at me like that won’t save you, either.” I grab the robe off a hook next to my bed and quickly put it around me.

  Huffing, he grabs his shirt off the floor, pulling it over his head. Sans shoes, he stalks over to me at the same time I cinch the tie at my waist. When I try to push past him, I can’t help the catch in my breath when his arm winds around my waist gently and he pulls me into his chest.