Hating You

by Beck, J. L.

  Another one of the girls glances up at me, a condescending sneer on her red painted lips, “Run along, we don’t want you here.” She waves me on like I’m some forsaken being, and already I can feel the steam building in my head.

  I don’t know who I want to hit more right now, this chick or Parker. They might be rude, but I know for sure that Parker is the one putting them up to this. Why else would they act that way? Shaking my head, I move on to the next already formed group. I don’t even get the chance to ask a question before they all start to shake their heads, giving me an answer without even knowing what I want. By the time I reach the third group, I’m gritting my teeth, my palms clenched into tight fists.

  They do a mixture of what both groups had done before, shaking their heads and shoving rude comments my way. Of fucking course. There’s only one group left… and that’s Parker’s group. Turning on my heels, I walk over to him, coming to a halt right in front of his table. I’m so close, I can smell his aftershave, clean and spicy. The scent goes straight to my head for a moment and my mouth waters. I want to kick myself for enjoying the smell, for even thinking of him in any way other than a monster. Swallowing down the thought, I hold on to the anger instead.

  “I’m guessing you have something to do with this?” I question through my teeth.

  Carrying on with his conversation with Warren, Parker completely ignores me. Asshole.

  “Did you want me to be part of your group, is that it?” I ask, growing more irritated with him by the second.

  He finally stops talking to Warren, but only long enough to turn toward me and say, “No, I don’t want you here, and neither does anyone else, I thought that much was obvious?” His dark brow lifts in question, and my mouth pops open to respond, but before I can get a word out, he’s talking again. “Shut your mouth. I wouldn’t want you to dig yourself a deeper hole, so move along… no one wants you here, least of all me.”

  He dismisses me like I’m some kind of servant and turns back to Warren, who I see out of the corner of my eye is grinning from ear to ear. My cheeks heat with embarrassment. He’s a god here, and I’m a mere mortal. I’ve basically been exiled.

  Fuming, I stomp back to my seat and flop down in it. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare straight ahead. Like a pouting child, I ignore the laughing and giggling within the room that is no doubt at my expense. I hate him. I hate him so much. Not just because of who he is, or our pasts. No, I literally hate him. I want to hurt him the same way he’s hurting me.

  After a few minutes, Dr. Dawson looks up from his computer, and I already know what’s going to happen next. His eyes scan the room and of course, come to land on me immediately.

  “You need to find a group,” he orders, his voice low, leaving no room for argument.

  “I work best on my own,” I snap back.

  “Too bad, this class requires a group assignment. Find a group or fail the class.” He shrugs.

  “I guess I’ll be failing then,” I grit out through clenched teeth while gathering my stuff. What did Parker expect? That I would get on my knees and beg him? Fat chance. Just as I get done shoving my things into my bag, I hear Parker’s thick chuckle behind me. It’s heavy and leaves a warmth in its wake.

  “Don’t be so dramatic. You can be in our group,” Parker offers, and I’m half tempted to turn around and toss my textbook in his face.

  “There you go,” Dr. Dawson claps his hands together, “go sit with your group and start going over your assignment. You’ve wasted enough time.”

  Fucking asshole. Grabbing my stuff, I turn around and walk over to Parker’s table. I’d rather eat glass than deal with him right now, but if I fail this class, I can’t imagine what my father will do to my sister.

  It’s one class. One class, Willow. Shoving into a seat one over, so I’m not too close to Parker, I open the textbook and read over the assignment on enzymes- function, kinetics, and mechanism. The words alone give me a headache.

  “I’ll do part one, Warren part two, and you can do the rest,” Parker says all matter of fact. This just keeps getting better and better. I open my mouth to protest being given sixty percent of the work when the classroom door flies open, interrupting me.

  Looking up, I find yet another familiar face entering the room. Nate. Just when I thought my mood couldn’t sour any further, he walks in. Nerves root me in place, and I feel like I might throw up.

  Nate and Parker have been friends forever, but their friendship pales in comparison to the one he has with Parker’s brother, Brett. An involuntary shiver ripples through me at the thoughts assaulting me. I never liked Nate. There was a time—two years ago, to be exact—when I actually liked Parker and Brett, but after everything that happened… Yeah, no. Not going there. Even as I stare down at the textbook, I can feel Nate’s dark gaze roaming over me. He’s always given me the creeps. I guess the Rothschild brothers were better at hiding their fuck up.

  Not surprisingly, Nate comes and sits with us, and the teacher doesn’t even make a comment about his tardiness.

  “Willow, fancy seeing you here,” he greets, showing only a little bit of shock as he takes the chair next to me. Everything about him makes me anxious.

  Without even knowing what he’s up to, I want to distance myself from him. Sitting down, he scoots even closer, so close that his thigh is touching mine. Instinctively, I slide away from him, and all the way to the corner of the table. The only reason I don’t scoot around the corner is the fact that Parker is sitting on that side. No matter the way I go, I’m screwed, so I’ll pick the least venomous of snakes.

  “Hi, Nate,” I mumble and flip open my textbook. He drapes his thick arm over the back of my chair, and it takes everything in me not to recoil. I don’t know what it is about him, but I just can’t stand him. Something about his presence leaves me feeling sick. When I glance up from my book, I find Parker staring at me, a prying look in his eyes. He doesn’t seem to care about Nate sitting next to me, but he doesn’t seem to like it either.

  Pushing all the thoughts that circle these guys away, I try to concentrate on the assignment, but Nate’s closeness has me on edge, even more so than Parker and Warren combined.

  When the class is finally over, I can’t stuff my book into my bag quick enough. Shoving it inside, I move to shove off my chair, but I’m stopped by Nate, who rests his hand on my arm. His touch burns through my skin, and while it isn’t hurtful, I know it can be, will be. Nate doesn’t just threaten. He follows through.

  “Where are you going in such a rush, sweet cheeks.”

  “To another class,” I lie, stopping my lip from wobbling, “let go of me, unlike you, I don’t want to be late.”

  “You don’t have another class today,” Parker pipes up with a growl, “I got your class schedule, so I know you are lying. Of course, that’s nothing new to you, right? Lying is your thing, after all.” Nevermind the fact that he called me a liar for the hundredth time, he’s now taken things to a whole new level.

  “Why the hell do you have my class schedule?”

  “I don’t like surprises,” he shrugs, and the dark hue of his eyes seems to lighten. “Why don’t we stay here and go over the assignment again. Nate doesn’t know which section he needs to do.” I shake my head in response. I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t stay here alone with Parker, let alone the three of them. It’s not going to happen.

  All is well until I try to get up again, and Nate tightens his grip.

  “You’re hurting me,” I grit out as his meaty fingers dig into my skin with a bite.

  “Behave, and I won’t hurt you,” he tells me in a low voice so only we can hear.

  I look around the mostly cleared out room. Two other students and the professor are the only people left, and even they are heading for the door now. For a moment, I actually think about screaming or at least asking Dr. Dawson for help, but then again, what is he going to do? Not even the police were willing to help me. No one is brave enough to stand up to the Rothsch
ilds.

  I do my best to swallow down my fear because the last thing I want them to know is that I’m truly terrified because then, like sharks in blood infested waters, they’ll attack.

  The professor doesn’t even look back as he pulls the door closed behind him, leaving me alone with Parker, Warren, and Nate.

  Alone in this room, I feel like a helpless lamb that’s been led into the lion’s den.

  Question is; which lion from their pack will strike first?

  6

  Parker

  Strong. Fragile. Beautiful. Willow’s fear is intoxicating, especially as she does her best to hide it. The air is thick between us, tensions so high, I’m sure everybody in class could feel it.

  We’re alone in the room now. Only Willow, Warren, Nate, and I left. Thoughts of what we could do to her run wild in my mind. Every one of them pumping blood straight to my dick. I could strip her bare, taunt her, taste her, mark her beautiful skin…

  Nate licks his lips, and I catch his eyes roaming down Willow’s body. I’ll bet he’s thinking of a million different things he can do to her. Not today. Not ever. He reaches out for her, and she jerks away, wincing when his fingers sink deeper into her snowy flesh. My jaw aches as my molars grind together.

  “Don’t bruise her skin,” I order, “I’m the only one who gets to mark her.”

  “What do you want?” Willow growls at me, baring her teeth like she is trying to intimidate me. She doesn’t seem to notice that I’ve just taken a step to protect her and instead turns her anger on me.

  What do I want? I tap at my chin with my finger, acting as if I’m thinking. I already know what I want. I’ve thought about it often over the last three days. I want to hurt her. Make her pay, but I also want her body. I want to feel her come apart under my touch. I want her to scream my name with both pain and pleasure. Maybe I can combine those two?

  “I told you what I wanted. I told you to leave, but you refused, so now we play my game, my way, and by my rules.” I lean into her tiny little body, breathing in her intoxicating scent. Her beautiful eyes refuse to meet mine. What a shame.

  “I warned you, Willow, and now I’m going to teach you a lesson, teach you that I’m in charge here. That I’m in charge of everything, everyone… including you.”

  I watch her shudder, and like the sick fuck I am, it makes me smirk.

  Yes, Willow, be afraid… be very afraid.

  “Nate, wait at the door and make sure no one gets in here.”

  “Why can’t Warren do it?” He whines.

  “’Cause I’m telling you to do it,” I snap. I also don’t like the way he looks at her like she’s some piece of meat. She is mine. To hurt, to mark. Without looking over at Warren, I know he has a shit-eating grin on his face. I’ll deal with him later, right now, I need to put on my best mask, and make sure Willow knows that I mean business.

  At my word, Nate releases her with a shove and waltzes to the door, clearly irritated by my request. Too fucking bad.

  “Get up,” I tell Willow as I get up from my own seat.

  “No,” she growls, shaking her head. Her strength is arousing, but so is the thought of breaking her, of feeling her throbbing pulse beneath my hands.

  “Get up, or I’ll make you.” I bark. At my threat, she gets up while staring daggers through me, and I’m sure if she could strike me dead with one single look, I’d be dead by now. Warren gets up as well, and walks around the table, stopping at Willow’s other side.

  “Strip,” I order, just to see if she would. I won’t actually let her do it, not in front of my friends, but I want to see her reaction.

  “What?!” Her eyes round with shock, her sexy little mouth popping open, and I wonder what she thinks we are going to do. Beat her up?

  “You heard me. Strip, and do it slowly. I think you owe me a little show.”

  Fists clenched at her side, she curls her pink lip, “I owe you nothing!”

  “Strip,” I repeat, my voice harder.

  “Fuck you!” She spits and I smirk. I figured she wouldn’t do it, but it’s fun to see her all worked up.

  “Warren, hold her.” My words have barely left my lips when Warren is behind her, grabbing hold of her wrists. She struggles, but he overpowers her easily, pulling her arms behind her back. I step directly in front of her, grabbing onto her shoulders to immobilize her further.

  “You really shouldn’t have done what you did.” Her eyes go wide with fear, but I have to give her props, she doesn’t scream or cry like I expected her to. All she does is stare at me, a sneer on her lips and fire in her eyes that tells me she’s a little too proud to beg for my forgiveness right now.

  With her chin held high, she opens her mouth to speak again. “Fuck you. You’re nothing but a sicko who gets off on hurting people.”

  I should probably be offended by her accusation, but instead, I smirk, because the truth is, she isn’t wrong. I do get off on hurting people. People who hurt my family, people like her…

  With her arms pinned behind her back, I make use of the freedom and reach for the button of her skinny jeans. If my cock weren’t already harder than steel, it would be now.

  Undoing the button and zipper, I watch with calculated eyes as her whole body stiffens, her chest rising and falling rapidly, drawing my attention to her perky breasts that remain hidden underneath her sweater.

  I would love to strip her bare right now, right here on the table, next to the beakers and burners in the center. To open her legs and see her pretty pussy, to find out if she’s as innocent as she looks. The only thing stopping me is my two douchebag friends being here. I don’t like them seeing too much of her, I don’t want to share what’s mine.

  So instead, I do the next best thing.

  With her pants undone, I slowly move my fingers just inside her waistband, listening at the uptick of her breath. Her face is a mask that I can’t penetrate, at least not yet. The soft fabric of her silky panties connects with the pads of my fingers, and I bite back a groan. I had always envisioned her to be a silk and lace kind of girl. I smirk, seeing her hardened nipples poking through the fabric of her sweater.

  My mouth waters and I’m too tempted not to give in to the need to touch that hard little peak. With my thumb and forefinger, I pluck at the nub rolling it between two fingers. I fight the enticing need to shove her sweater up and take it into my mouth, to suck on it, to leave bright red marks on the milky white skin.

  A low whimper meets my ears, as I pinch her nipple, twisting just enough to give her a bite of pain. Part of me wants to hurt her, to make her bleed, while the other part of me wants to touch her tenderly and watch her fall apart beneath my fingers.

  No. Grappling for control, I release her nipple and ignore her whimpering. I make my way underneath her panties with my other hand. She’s not objecting, not begging me to stop, which means she’s either not scared enough yet, or she wants this just as badly as I do. And I guess I’m going to find out. My fingers find purchase on her skin a moment later. It’s smooth and velvety, softer than her panties even.

  Very slowly, I slide my hand lower, reveling in how she feels beneath my touch, bare and smooth. She smells even more delicious and looks even more tempting this close up. The last time we were this close darkness surrounded us, taking away my chance to see her, but this time, I can see her, burning like a ball of fire in the sky.

  When I reach the top of her folds, I groan. I was prepared for her to scream, to cry, and beg me to stop, but nothing could have prepared me for the wetness I find when I slide my fingers through them.

  Leaning into her, I pin her trembling body between Warren and me. Brushing my nose against her throat, I place an open-mouthed kiss against the tender skin, feeling her heartbeat thrum like a pair of bird wings against my lips.

  “You’re fucking wet,” I confirm, slightly shocked while murmuring against her neck, just as I graze her swollen clit. With my own heart beating out of my chest, I move my fingers through her wetness,
paying special attention to her tiny little nub, wishing my mouth was where my fingers are right now. I bet she’d taste absolutely delicious. Like chocolate and sin. Like a fucking liar…

  Looking at her face, I find her eyes, as well as her lips, are squeezed shut, her face turned away from me. She’s trying to ignore me, ignore this, but not even she can muffle the moan of pleasure enough to hide it. It vibrates through her whole body and into mine, her desire slamming into me like a hurricane barreling against the coastline.

  Fuck. My jaw clenches, and suddenly I realize I want to feel her fall apart on my hand. The plan was to scare her, but now I want more, need more, and she’s the perfect victim. She took from me, so I suppose it’s okay for me to take from her.

  Taking her clit between my index and middle finger, I alternate between pinching it and rubbing small circles against it at the same time, drawing another groan out of her. Her cheeks turn a soft pink, and she struggles against Warren, almost as if she’s trying to fight the mounting pleasure, but no matter how much she tries to hide it, she can’t hide the fact that her body wants me. It wants my touch.

  Nipping at her ear, I whisper, “I warned you, and you should have listened.” I pinch her clit, smirking as she bites down on her bottom lip to stifle the pleasure she’s feeling. “I own this place, and everybody in it, including you. You do what I say when I say it. If I want you naked and, on your knees, then you better be naked and on your fucking knees.” I bite her ear again, and she shivers, from fear or pleasure, I don’t know, but if I’m betting, I’m going to say pleasure.

  “I own you now, and that means I own your body too, and I bet you can guess what that means?” I give her a moment to answer, and when she doesn’t, I chuckle, blowing hot breath against her skin. “Since you don’t want to answer, I’ll be nice and tell you. It means I’m going to do with you whatever I want, whenever I want, do you understand?” My words seem to only arouse her more because as soon as they pass my lips, I feel a gush of moisture against my fingers. She’s like a waterfall, gushing with arousal, and I’m a man who hasn’t had a drink of water in years.