Hate Me Like You Do, page 13
I blink as it reminds me of what Dee wears. My thoughts become a blur of Dee’s smile, her blonde hair falling down over her chest, the curve of her breasts in the small bathing suit she wore all summer, and the perfect curve of her ass in the school’s uniform skirts.
Fuck, that little uniform on her.
I groan at the images flashing in my mind. I’m rolling my hips against this stranger, pushing her over the edge and urging another noisy orgasm from her. Again and again I slide in and out of her, my pace quickening. Physically I’m fucking some tanned beauty from school but in my head, it’s Dee beneath me.
My gaze finds its way back to Dee’s face, her lips parting in a small ‘O’, one hand no longer gripping the blanket but lost beneath it, as I find my release. Our breathing comes in heavy pants as I pull myself away from the girl.
I roll off of her the moment I come, my dick still pulsing as cool air hits my skin.
And still I’m staring down on those hooded emerald eyes.
“Did you enjoy the show?” I rasp out, not bothering to hide myself as I pull the condom off.
“Oh, my god.” The girl naked on my bed sits up looking across the room, her lanky arms crossing over her body. “Has she been there the entire time?”
The look that Dee gives me isn’t the bliss filled face she had on a moment ago, but an angry selfish glare that leaves me feeling dirty. Not dirty in the good way either. It makes my skin crawl like I’ve lowered myself to some terrible place that she could never love me from. Dirty like I need a shower to wash away the sins I’ve committed.
“If I see anything new, I’ll throw some change at it,” she says defiantly before she rolls over in bed, tossing the blanket back over her face.
Every time she talks like that it just makes me want to show her everything she’s missing. I could make her feel so fucking good.
But instead, I make her feel total hatred.
Fuck I hate myself right now.
I slide my boxers back up, tossing the girl’s panties at her with a grunt before I exit the room. With Dee, I could go for round two, or three, or fuck it, fourteen.
But that’s never going to happen. So I’ll fuck away every ounce of raging hormone that tells me she should be the one curling up in my bed.
Until I forget her entirely.
Eighteen
Dee
Deep inside me I wish that I was sad to be leaving this school. Even if it is an upgrade from where I had been going, it’s also a nightmare. A living, breathing, nightmare that I don’t wake up from.
Today may be my last day of high school but I can always go back. I could get my GED if and when I desire. I’ll just have to try harder. It’ll just take a little longer.
It’s not the end of the world.
So why does it feel like it is?
The metal fork in my hand scrapes drearily against my lunch plate, pushing the food around without a thought of eating it. My ears fill with chatter and laughter from my peers around me. It’s still all so distant as I’m caught in my thoughts. Utensils clank against plates, glasses of tea, soda, or drinks thud against the long dining tables.
It’s so loud and there are so many people. They just aren’t anywhere near me.
I blink slowly as Damon stands from his table, his walk confident yet lazy with his friends in tow behind him. There isn’t even a small inkling of me that bothers to pay them any mind.
Just in front of me, near enough I can see and hear most of the conversation but far enough away that they don’t have to be associated with me are the boys. Landon keeps sending me those sad puppy dog eyes over Knox’s shoulder. His face is still healing from the bruises inflicted by his friend.
Reed glances back too. Long dark glares and occasionally softer, more curious ones. As if he keeps forgetting he’s supposed to hate me. I wonder if he still sees my naked silhouette from when he found me in the locker room just like I occasionally get the image of him rolling his hips into some faceless girl.
Sometimes the faceless girl is me.
It’s those moments, recently, that I want to punish myself for.
Then there’s Knox. His shoulders straight, his body constantly tense. My God, somebody get this kid a massage or something because he needs to relax. He never relaxes. Not once does he turn his head to the side or give his peripheral the opportunity to see me. The way he acts like he might be burned alive if he even recognizes I exist, is borderline offensive.
No, it is offensive. I’m offended.
Knox is like a yo-yo pulling me near then pushing me away. He has moments where he’s all in and then there are times like right now where he’s completely shut down.
I hope he’s happy with what he and the other two have done to me. Happy with what they managed to turn this school into.
A small drumming of fingers against the table brings me out of my thoughts. Damon smiles at me as he passes the table. I wave hello but it’s a slow wave, a melancholy attempt at acknowledging that somebody, anybody, did something other than be cruel to me.
Then he speaks. Outrage and shame turning my face a vibrant red the moment he speaks.
“She’s a wild ride in bed,” he practically purrs to his friends. “Don’t let her innocent act fool you. She does all the nasty things the good girls won’t do. And she’ll beg you for more.”
The comment is tossed over his shoulder so casually, so loudly. Even students many tables away can easily hear what he said. The lies he’s telling for his own gain.
Landon is the first to stand, his chair falling to the floor behind him.
Rage that I rarely ever see snaps through his spine and shoulders as he strides right up to my table as if he needs to see Damon’s smug face up close.
“You want to say that one more time, Damon? I’m not sure I heard you correctly. In fact, I’m certain I didn’t.”
Damon stops, his friends falling silent behind him. The only thing between Landon and Damon is my table where I sit fighting the urge to curl into myself from how much attention they’re straining on me.
Again.
Interest compels me to watch the scene.
Behind Damon, his friends snicker and nudge their friend, begging for him to continue. He willingly does.
“Did whoever beat the fuck out of you also break your eardrums?” Damon spreads his arms out in front of him, pleading for an audience. The cafeteria obliges as students fall quiet. “I said, your girl. Likes to beg. To be fucked.”
Reed stands up too, his face points down, his eyes looking up with a heavy rage. That doesn’t stop Damon from continuing while his friends shuffle behind him. Landon against the small crowd isn’t much of a threat. But Landon and the captain of the football team who is built like a tree, that could make a few weaselly string bean boys uneasy.
Like Damon.
If he had the intelligence to shut the fuck up.
“She got down on her knees, ass in the air, crawling with all of her daddy issues shining bright in those pathetic eyes.”
Unshaking and unhurried, Knox rises from his seat. His movements alone silences Damon. Rigid muscles strain his shirt, his fingers digging into his palms like he’s preparing for something. He doesn’t spare me a glance. I’m not sure I want to see it when the rest of him looks so threatening.
“Then what happened?” Knox asks, his words eerily calm. Curious almost.
I want to die in this moment. I can’t tell if Knox is angry or attempting to only humiliate me more. Is he going to play into Damon’s lies more? I’m already leaving, he knows this. Why kick someone when they’re already down?
With Landon and Reed’s shaking anger, Damon would be an idiot to speak right now though.
So of course he does.
“Then I fucked her till she couldn’t speak anymore.”
Knox becomes a blur. Landon and Reed are so close on his trail my neck aches as I snap it to the side to follow their movement. The crowd that had cheered behind Damon scatters quickly in the wake of Knox Reyes.
Damon stumbles, his head flinging backwards from the rough uppercut that collides with his chin. It’s three against one and it’s blood and shouts in a tornado of cascading fists.
My breath hitches, caught in my throat, a ball of anxiety tightening in my chest. I stand wanting to help, wanting to stop it, perhaps even go back in time and even avoid this all. My head pounds, a dizziness swaying me, as droplets of blood splatter on the table next to me.
As I trip against my chair it topples over but I push it behind me just to get away. I just need some air. A second to get myself together and away from the testosterone and bloody violence. Another moment to cool myself down. Something else builds in me, settling deep in my core, when the three of them stood up for me.
It’s unnerving yet exciting and shocking. It’s... fucking sexy.
I don’t want to see them like that anymore. They call it a crush for a reason, I suppose, because right now I feel like my insides are being crushed. The weight of their awful tormenting actions mixing with the uncontrollable attraction I have toward them. It’s just too much.
Finding the back patio thankfully empty, I press my palms into the hot concrete railing that overlooks the back parking lot. My heartbeat finally calms. I stand with my face turned up to the sun, the minutes passing by. A bell rings and students shuffle from lunch inside. I can hear their footfalls but I don’t bother to join them.
I can’t look at them. I’m so fucking tired of looking at them all.
When the noise dies down and another bell rings, telling me everyone is in their classes, I feel someone beside me. I opened my eyes, righting my posture, to find Knox standing next to me, staring straight ahead.
“I hope you don’t expect a thank you.” The words are breathier than I intend.
Knox stands so close I can feel the heat from his body against my arm. I can smell an iron tang of fresh blood on him as if it’s his cologne.
Maybe he always smells like that.
Finally, and slowly, oh so slowly his attention meets mine. His deep gaze still shines with anger and adrenaline. His caramel brown eyes trace over my body, the tip of his tongue running out over his bottom lip as if he could taste me.
“I’d expect a ‘fuck you’ before I ever imagine you saying thanks.”
There isn’t time for me to process his words or even that he spoke at all. Not when his lips meet mine, eager and wanting. That feeling that settles in my core grows and trails down within me.
His hands are rough and unforgiving as he presses me closer to him against the concrete railing. One hand is firm against my neck, the other tangling in my hair.
Every ounce of unfinished bitterness leaves me in the long trails of scratches from my nails racking over his skin. His back, his biceps, his neck.
Everywhere.
This is the moment I wanted all summer and all the feelings come crashing through me, releasing in small gasps when he breaks away.
The course skin of his thumbs dabble at my hips before he takes what he wants and tugs my panties down from beneath my navy pleated skirt.
Knox breaks away long enough to give me a questioning glance. The small unspoken moment like he’s asking me to fuck him.
It’s the strangest thing that I never expected.
I hate that it makes me want to like him even more.
Fuck him.
Literally.
I pull him back against me, my mouth slamming to his.
Just once in this school year I want to enjoy something… and I’m entirely enjoying every hard plane of Knox that touches my skin.
Kisses trail along my neck, his lips stopping to nip against my collar bone until I feel that sensation right between my thighs. All of this happens as his belt buckle is being loosened and I hear the quick unzip of his pants.
He finds my panties again and tugs them down further. A small moan leaves me when he brings his hands back under my skirt, circling against my clit in the most delicious way before his fingers dip inside, finding me wet and waiting.
When I gasp harshly, he smiles against my lips. I wish I could see that smile because they’re so rare but we are moving together too fast to stop.
If we pause—for even a second—everything between us will fall apart.
Knox grabs my legs and perches me just slightly on the ledge of the railing, spreading me enough for his strong thighs to skim between mine perfectly.
My hands shake when I lift them. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t nervous but my excitement, my want, is so much more powerful.
His hands lower between us but his demanding mouth never leaves mine, his tongue flicking along mine, sucking mine until I moan just from his kiss alone.
Knox is unforgiving. He leads himself to me then plunges in without a thought. He doesn’t slow as I take in a startled breath of the cool air.
It’s a weird feeling being able to have Knox in this way. He surrounds me. The odd fear of him being so close, the danger that always surrounds him, gives me a high. A high that he takes advantage of in rough thrusts of his hips. The moment my chin lifts, his hand’s there, caressing my throat, tightening with his thrill of violence, lust, and total control. He releases me as quickly as he came just enough for my breath to come back in a rush.
In this moment, he owns me. He can have every single part of me.
It’s all I wanted right from the start.
I’m unravel beneath him in a slamming release that has me shaking, tightening around him, until he too finds his.
Until all too quickly, we aren’t, and he is pulling away entirely.
Nineteen
Dee
I don’t know if it was a gift or another cruel act for him to take from me what I wanted to lose all along. It felt like a gift. Until now.
His shoulders relax and his belt clanks quietly as he refastens it. He throws something away down in the bushes below. Probably a condom.
Or my shit decisions in life.
Just as eager as he was to take from me, he walks away from me. He doesn’t glance back for even a second.
I pull my underwear back up, giving myself no time to enjoy that freshly fucked after glow that still pools within me.
Why? Why the fuck is he doing this to me? I’m an idiot to keep falling for him but he’s a monster to keep doing it.
On their own accord my feet follow after him. My steps are loud and clumsy compared to the silent, swift movement of his. I grab for his shoulder to stop him but he dodges the movement without my fingers even brushing against him.
“Stop it, Knox!” I demand, the back and forth of his whiplash spiraling into raw emotion. “Just fucking tell me. Tell me why.”
Knox twists on his heels, his eyebrows low over his emotionless eyes.
I hate his fucking beautifully tragic eyes.
He doesn’t respond, only watches me.
“Does it feel good?” My voice breaks. I drop my hands to my side, finally feeling defeated. “Does it feel good to just completely destroy me? You hate me this much? You hate me enough to ruin my entire life?”
He growls, bringing his hands up to his face and pressing his palms against his eyes. His hands push through his messy hair.
“No,” he finally whispers.
The small word surprises me. Gives me some small, stupid ounce of hope.
“I don’t hate you at all, Violet.”
“Then what is it?” I blink at the warm tears that sting my eyes. I won’t cry. I won’t do it. But my lips tremble as I watch him.
Even now after I’ve trusted him with every piece of my body, given him something no one else can ever have, he looks dangerous. Like a bad idea. Every sharp angle of his features and the once again rigid stance of his body is like a blade about to cut me.
He sighs long and low, his voice hushed like someone somewhere is listening in on our conversation. “Your dad… your dad’s been looking for you. I wanted you to leave. I knew you wouldn’t. You said we’d graduate together and you meant it.”
My dad? What the hell is he talking about my dad for?
My mom always said my dad was too good for us. Didn’t want anything to do with us. And I don’t want anything to do with him. Why would I after eighteen years have passed without a single call?
I don’t get it. Why are we talking about this?
His gaze drifts off to the trees that litter the school yard. “I wanted you to hate me. Damon just kicked those thoughts into action. You’re safer with your aunt out of state.”
Why is he so damn confusing?
My brows furrow, my hands fumbling at my sides as I try to take in everything he is saying. “My aunt’s a meth head. You’re saying living with her is better than whoever the hell my dad is?”
“Yes.”
The words spill out of me. “I don’t know how the hell you know who my dad is but I don’t want to know him.”
“You don't,” he says matter of factly, as if he has the audacity to speak or decide what I want.
Even if I did just say the same thing.
“How do you know, Knox? What does he have to do with you being a fucking asshole to me?”
There’s a coldness in his gorgeous eyes. An emptiness that’s always frightened me as much as it drew me in.
And I can just tell, he’s about to destroy me.
“Because your dad is the man who adopted me. The man who uses me. The man who made me. And he’ll do the same fuckin’ thing to you if I give him the chance, Violet.”
On a shuddering breath, I step away from him, my hand absently finding my heart like I could hold it into my chest as it beats so wildly it might break my rib cage.
Is he saying Ronan Reyes is my father?
And Knox would be…
I swallow that terrible thought down and focus on what he just told me.
All my life I imagined this moment would be different. If I ever met him, my dad would be an ordinary stranger. Not this rich man who runs an empire right in the middle of my hometown with a son who made me love him just so he could torment me, fuck me, and then tell me he’s my adoptive fucking brother.
