Hate Me Like You Do, page 2
His breath is heavier this time and he only makes it worse when he leans into me, his chest pressing hard against my breasts, his hand shoved between us, teasing that line of fabric just above my pubic bone.
Back and forth his steady hand skims over my sensitive flesh until I can almost imagine his touch lower, harder, faster.
But he never moves lower. Not an inch.
He made the rule.
It was his rule.
And he, unfortunately, follows it.
Even if he does skim the line between friendship and fucking very, very closely.
“Goodnight, Violet.” His dark, rasping voice alone is a command.
We’re nothing. He and I are just two friends.
Who happen to share a house.
And a bed.
Two
Dee
The blissful days of summer are fleeing. Each day is being ripped off the calendar faster than I can enjoy them. Yet, Knox and his friends have enjoyed every passing second. So much so that my ears are still ringing with the howls of the women they’ve enjoyed it with.
My senior year is about to start at a brand new school and I just want to completely own this last beautiful day as much as they have the whole summer. No, not as much. More. That’s right, I’m going to do it better than them.
Somehow.
I’ve seen and heard so much sex lately that it’s all I think about.
Makes breakfast a little awkward but I honestly can’t get the thoughts out of my head.
And it’s their fault.
They've all given me a manual of what not to do at least. Don't drink too much or you'll throw up on your date. Repeatedly. Loudly. Obnoxiously. Don't let your date drink too much or the guy won't be able to even do the deed. And most importantly, do not, I repeat, do not call your date by a former date's name.
Simple.
The V-card has to go and it has to go now. I refuse to do the three knuckle shuffle one more time.
The large brick walls of the mansion tower above me as my feet crunch over the pebbled driveway. Before I came here, I would have thought having money would be the perfect life. It’s not. Money just seems to create an illusion of quality and happiness. It all feels stiff. Like this house and the perfect decor inside are just props.
I remember how villainous this place looked when I first arrived. With the dark shutters and the perfectly trimmed hedges all dripping in money that I’ve never had.
Not to mention the boys.
Also villainous looking. Also dripping in money. Intimidating but alluring all at the same time.
I pass through shadows of the large balconies that jut off the building that’s been my home for a month now, heading toward the neighbors. Damon is going to be a senior too. He’s friendly with Knox, in the neighborly way, but not friends with Knox.
Not many are, after all.
Warm, smooth metal meets my fingertips as I let my hand playfully run against the grand fencing that separates the two estates. I feel like a predator in a way. I like it. Damon doesn’t know what I’m coming for. The poor boy doesn’t have any idea about the sinfully good intentions I have for him and me.
At a distance I can see Delores Sienna playing in the dirt. She doesn’t protect the delicate lace on her pretty dress while she sits in the dirt kicking up a cloud of dust. She’ll be grounded again the moment her mom sees that dress. She’s a sweet girl with more expensive items than I could ever dream to own and all she wants to do is play with mud.
She has no idea what she has at her fingertips.
None of them do.
Delores turns and locks eyes with me, the sparkling glimmer of unscared youth reflects in them as they widen. It takes me back to the first day I came here. Her face was pressed so close to the fencing I swore her head would get stuck between the black bars.
However, that’s not what scared me the most.
“Knox Reyes is a murderer.” That’s what the little girl had whispered when the Reyes’s family driver dropped me off at their front steps.
Her voice was so quiet that I had to walk up to her and ask her to repeat herself.
It was clear as day when she said it in slow, crawling words.
Knox Reyes is a murderer.
I glanced up the steps at the boys who waited for me then, the three of them looming in the big expanse of the doorway.
The brooding quiet one with eyes as dark as sin didn’t greet me, he didn’t say a word as he took my few belongings inside with his butler.
Her harsh whispered warning has echoed in my mind daily. A daunting alarm that’s waiting to go off at any moment.
Knox Reyes is a murderer.
He didn’t look like a murderer. Not in his neatly ironed sweater carefully tucked into pressed khaki pants. The red tie, perfectly knotted, seemed a sinister color peeking out over the neckline of his shirt directly under the white collar of the button up underneath it all.
It screamed rich.
Rich boys don’t murder. They don’t have unsettling rage within them.
They have money and that’s all they need in life.
At least, that’s what I thought before I met him.
Knox Reyes is all harsh lines and sharp angles. Deep brooding eyes set under thick dark brows, a jaw that could cut glass, and lips pressed tightly together in constant suppressed anger.
It radiated from him.
Those large hands of his, always clenched at his sides, were scarred and calloused underneath expensive tattoos. Working hands that shouldn’t belong to someone of his status.
A murderer’s hands?
I laugh at the memory, at the silliness of it all now.
Knox Reyes is intimidating but he isn’t a murderer.
It’s funny to think Knox could be a killer, yet, I know I’m not the only one who can feel the threatening essence of his presence at times.
Do I really know the real Knox?
Does anyone?
I give Delores a quick wave and a small smile.
“Hi.” Delores beams. She must only be about six years old. All long limbs and hopeful smiles.
Pure. Good. Happy.
With everything my mother's put me through, she's something that's hard for me to really relate to. Even if I pretend to.
“Hey.” I’m careful not to step in her dirt pile that’s dug from perfect green grass.
Her mom’s going to be pissed.
I crouch near her so we can be eye level. “Is Damon around?”
She snorts. “Yeah playing his stupid video games in his man cave.” The mockery of her tone isn't hidden and I can't help the upward pull of my lips.
Her tone is the whole boys are dumb, girls rule and boys drool. Oh, sweet child, just wait until those hormones hit you and you’ll be singing a different tune, I promise.
My eyes roam over their home. This house is so much less menacing than the one I’m staying in. It’s all white siding and brightly blooming flowers pouring out of rustic wooden boxes. Cozy. It’s one of the biggest houses I’ve ever seen in person but much more homey than Knox’s place. Like a cottage but on steroids.
“Would you get him for me, please?” the formalities of this life were the first thing I picked up. In public, the rich are painfully kind.
In private, that's another story.
“Yeah, but he isn’t going to be happy. I’m going to interrupt his kill streak.” Delores pouts slightly but stands up and dusts off the hem of her summer dress.
I give her dress a couple of pats myself trying to get as much off of her as I can. Her lips quirk up and I can see how much she likes me in the little bright eyed smile she shows me.
Hell, she probably likes me more than she likes Damon.
“Wait,” I call after her.
Her mousey brown hair lifts in the breeze made by her momentum as she twirls back around to me. I pass her another uncertain look and purse my lips. With one finger I beckon her closer. As soon as she’s within reaching distance I lick my thumb and rub away the dirt from her cheek.
“Ew!” She giggles, pushing me away.
“Can’t get caught looking like a mess or you’ll be grounded yet again.”
This is the worst thing their kids can do: embarrass their parents with a smudge on their perfection.
You see, it's not just Knox who hides his real self away. This entire damn suburb is a fortress of fakeness.
I’m sure Mournmount Academy will be exactly the same.
“I know, I know.” Delores rolls her big eyes but the goofy grin of hers still rests on her lips.
Alone outside their house, I find myself tapping my foot impatiently. Seriously, my V-card isn’t going to lose itself. My fingers twitch as I do the math in my head. We likely don’t have too long before Reed is out of football practice where Knox is tagging along. It will take them a minute before they get home though because they’ll swing by the library to pick up Landon.
Then they'll be home.
And I should no longer be a virgin at that point. I better not be.
We can do it in Knox’s bed. Or on the couch. Everywhere. All the places.
Oh, my God. We are going to have sex on the kitchen table. Is Damon tall enough for that?
It doesn’t matter.
Vengeance is sweet. Or at least it will be.
I hope.
My cheeks heat at the thought. I shouldn’t feel embarrassed anymore. At this point I should be desensitized to all the nakedness I’ve seen lately. Yet, I’m not. It still turns my stomach in this weird twisted shameful way.
I feel even more shame though when I enjoy it.
What is wrong with me?
The glass double doors swing open and Delores skips out followed by Damon. He got his haircut and his acne has cleared up since the last time I saw him. I didn’t even know that rich kids had acne.
I guess I just thought wealth blessed you with flawless skin
That's the kind of standards my roommates have set for me.
And that's not the only expectations they've set into place for poor unsuspecting Damon.
His exposed chest snags my attention. A perfect ladder of lean muscles all in one attractive physique. Until you get to his face.
But, remember Violet, you’re not here for his face.
No one cares about the face right now.
My eyes dart back down to the vee of muscle that shows over his low sitting shorts.
Damon raises his eyebrows at me in question. No, ‘hello’ or ‘can I help you’ just a quizzical expression.
I wonder if he's mentally calculating how many gaming minutes I'm wasting right now.
“I was wondering if you could help me move a few things at the house real quick.” My confidence has somehow escaped me now that I’m here, the words all rushing out too hastily on a shallow breath.
Get it together Violet Demure. Keep your head in the game.
Because this is definitely a game.
“Where’s Knox and his buddies?” Damon crosses his arms over his chest, eyes shifting like he's waiting for them to jump him at any minute.
“Out,” I say, biting my lip. I’m seductive, be seductive.
Ow, that actually kind of hurts.
“Doesn’t he have help for this sort of thing?”
Oh, God. He isn’t buying it. Not for a second. And all I'm doing is bruising my lip by chewing on it like an old dog.
“Well, I was thinking maybe you could help me so we could maybe get to know each other before school starts. I could use some more… friends.” I mock his stance but fold my arms underneath my chest, giving the girls a little push up in the purposefully low cut top.
You are sexy. You are the definition of all things sensual. I repeat to myself hoping it’s translating through my body language.
Damon blinks blankly for a moment. Then he glances at his little sister.
“Go inside and get out of the dirt. You look like the kids who go to public school.” He frowns at her but she listens with a nod and heads inside. “Tell Dad I’m heading over to help the neighbor,” he hollers after her.
When he looks back at me, he's smirking. It’s a funny expression on his strangely un-symmetrical face. Without trying, I’m smiling wildly because I know today is the day. I’m not going to feel like a naive child anymore among overly sexualized men. I will no longer be ashamed. After this, I will feel like the woman I was meant to grow up and be.
I’m almost eighteen. It’s time.
I’m ready.
Butterflies feel like they’re vomiting in my stomach and I have to take a deep breath to ease the sensation.
With a tilt of my head I motion for him to follow me and he does. He doesn’t trail behind me but walks next to me. I can feel his ego growing with each step.
It almost puts me off.
Almost. Not quite. I’m too determined. That and Damon is the only other guy I know here so...it just feels right, I guess.
A nervous sigh parts my lips but I push down those uneasy feelings. Today is the day.
“Is there a lot to move?” he teases, his smooth arm brushing mine.
“Just a few things.” I watch him carefully. “You wouldn’t believe how heavy my bed is. And I only need to move it a few inches back. Or forward. Haven't decided yet.”
Back and forth maybe?
“We can try both and see what you like.”
I laugh quietly like I’ve seen the girls do when they flirt with Reed. I take the extra step, though, to reach up and brush my hand against his arm with the soft giggle I'm pushing from my lips. His chest puffs up.
Ego and pride. So much pride in just one body with a particularly unattractive face.
It's hard for me to really grasp, but I guess this is the self-confidence an abundance of money breeds.
We're met with the cool air conditioning as we step into the house. I don’t know if Damon has ever been inside here but he doesn’t seem too impressed with anything. His steps are light and quiet as he trails next to me up toward Knox’s bedroom.
Our bedroom.
“Here we are.” The door swings open to reveal the large space, perfectly clean wooden floors. I made sure of it.
His eyebrows furrow. “Uh, why are there two beds?”
“Oh, Reed stays in here too. The other rooms down the hall are being renovated so…” I trail off, watching him bob his head as he takes in the information. “But this bed is mine, the one that needs to be moved.”
Hint, hint, double virgin hint.
If somehow in his dense brain he hasn’t figured out what I’ve been hinting at yet he sure as hell better get it now. The bed isn’t heavy. Doesn’t even remotely look heavy. It’s a queen size mattress on a simple thin metal frame, headboard unattached in that fancy ass floating decor look.
I could easily push this bed by myself. Hell, I’ve even done it on accident at times when I sit down too hard. Actually, I think it might even be on wheels.
Really, the hints are obvious. Obnoxiously obvious.
I feel too thin, less curvaceous than the girls that Reed brings home but I put full effort into trying to mimic them. Trying to put every ounce of sexy I have into my walk, I prowl over to the bed. I sit crossing my legs but not bothering to pull my skirt down as it rises up my thighs.
Damon walks up to me, examining me from head to toe. His tongue races out over his lips before he places his arms on the bed around me and leans down to my face.
“I think I can help with that.” His voice is rough and dark and spirals adrenaline right through me.
I don’t move away as he lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss is mediocre at best. It’s wet and sloppy. Not at all the way I've seen my guys kiss girls.
My guys.
At the simple thought of Knox, Reed, and Landon, I kiss him back.
Tongue, so much tongue. Too much tongue. Honestly, I didn’t know that was a thing but here I am wishing he would take his entire tonsils out of my mouth.
Maybe we should skip to the finish line. Foreplay is clearly overrated.
God, I’m going to lose my virginity with very poorly done sex if we’re judging based off how he strokes and thrusts that tongue.
Pulling away, my lips feel tacky and damp, I run my hands down the side of my body till I find the hem of my shirt. One good tug and I’m pulling it up over my head. The material catches on my blonde hair but I don’t care as I yank it free and drop the shirt to the ground.
Damon eyes me with eager attention. He's looking at me the way he probably does the latest release of Call of Duty.
I wonder if he knows how to get my bra off without assistance. We will see.
Here's to lowering high expectations.
The mattress quietly creaks as I lay myself back on the bed. Damon climbs up and hovers over me with one hand planted near my head, pulling harshly at my long blonde hair beneath his palm. I wince as he pulls and then finally situates himself.
Our lips meet again. Want thrums through me. Not the kind of want I thought I'd be having during my first time, that kind that you're just so into someone that you need all of them, physically need their touch. I thought I’d be burning up to have him closer, deeper.
It's not how I feel with my roommates. Their hands are always gentle, a whisper of fleeting touches that always singe across my tingling skin.
No, this is purely primal.
I just want to get that orgasm. One given to me by someone that isn’t myself. That’s all I’m asking for here. I suppose mind blowing, body shaking, just can’t get enough of it sex will have to be another time.
Incredibly low expectations, I tell you.
Damon’s hand slides up my side grazing my chest before he cradles my face. This is nice. Maybe he is better at sex than kissing.
Fingers crossed.
One messy kiss, two messy kisses and then his hand drifts back down to my chest. Thankfully, his mouth leaves my lips. Though his tongue leaves a wet trail that chills in the cold air as he licks his way even lower.
My breath stutters.
I’m doing this. We are really doing this.
I hum and arch my back under his touch. He doesn’t bother to try and undo my bra from the back but merely pulls my straps down and folds the material away from his roaming mouth.
