Loser: A Dark College Bully Romance (Hillcrest University Book 1) Page 8
“I wasn’t done talking to you,” Sawyer’s voice came from behind me, his strong hands finding my sides.
I didn’t turn to face him. I didn’t need to. I knew he still wore that half-lidded, stupid smirk, like he thought he was winning. Wouldn’t he feel like the night’s biggest loser when he realized he was chasing a dead end?
Shrugging, I said, “Maybe I was done talking to you.”
He didn’t like that. His fingertips dug into my sides as he pulled me toward him, my back slamming against his front. His grip was like steel, his body warm against my back. Warm, solid, and muscular. Sawyer started to move along with my hips, but I could tell his movement was a lot less fluid than mine, less natural.
Me? I could do this all night, taunting him. It was kind of fun, poking the monster. I wasn’t sure if he had it in him to hurt his sister, but with his obviously fake smile? There was always something calculated going on in his head. I knew enough not to trust him.
Still, a shame he had such an attractive face; it was wasted on him.
“You should be grateful. Most girls love my attention,” Sawyer said, practically yelling into my ear so I’d hear him.
“I’m not most girls,” I said, turning my head to shoot him a look. If anything, his hands only gripped me harder. So hard I might have bruises in the morning. Ten little black dots, all from Sawyer’s hands.
Sawyer’s chest rumbled behind me, and I closed my eyes, tuning out the music to focus on the sound. Primal, animalistic, aggressive. “No, you’re not, otherwise you’d be in my bed already.”
I laughed. Were girls really that easy for him? Or was it the money? Either way, I couldn’t ever see myself giving in to him that easily. A guy had to work for it, you know? Reward him with sex when he didn’t do shit, and he’ll always do shit. Guys like that never changed. Sawyer was the tool of all tools, the man whore of a campus that had no girls.
It just sucked that my body kept responding to his. If I could’ve told my body to knock it off, I gladly would have.
I started grinding on him, pressing my ass against him as I went side to side. It wasn’t long before I felt something hard start to grow. Within a few minutes, I had an erection pressing against my lower back. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it was one I shouldn’t have enjoyed so much. Playing with him was just so fun.
The hands on my sides forced me to flip, turning me around so that my chest pressed against his. His abdomen was a rock. I bet underneath his shirt, there were at least six tiny squares, all of them calling my name.
Damn it. The more time I was with Sawyer, the harder it was to keep my focus. My horny vagina had to tone it down, just a bit.
I ran my hands along his chest, bending my neck to gaze up at him. He was smoking, that’s for sure, but I knew the most handsome faces hid the darkest insides. What darkness did his sparkling blue eyes hide? Did he want Declan to be miserable for the rest of his life? Did he want Declan to die? How far was he willing to go to get payback, regardless of what had happened to Sabrina? For some people, even enough wasn’t enough.
“I think you and I should talk,” I said, linking my hands behind his neck. To further kill the mood that his hard-on was making, I added, “About Declan.” And, just like that, the mention of Declan’s name was all I needed.
Sawyer no longer wore the half grin he usually did. In fact, his mouth turned into a full-blown frown. It was apparently the one facial expression he could afford to make, the one he had enough energy for. If looks could kill, I’d be a goner right then and there. Say goodbye to Ash, because Sawyer’s glare outright killed her.
He said not a single word, his hands falling off my side. Before I could say anything else, he snatched up one of my hands in his, leading me off the makeshift dance floor and away from the gyrating group. More than one set of eyes watched us go, most of them envious girls. If I could’ve reassured them that Sawyer’s dick was safe from me, I would have. That was one cock I was going to steer clear of, trust me.
He brought me up the stairs, pushing past the couples making out. Once we were on the second floor of the house, he led me into a bedroom, where a guy was busy doggy-styling it with a pretty blonde whose hair was double the length of mine. I didn’t recognize either of them.
You know, Travis invited me to this thing. Where the hell was he? Was he here? Did he skip it? Whatever. I shouldn’t be thinking about Travis anyway, not when I was about to be alone with Sawyer in what looked like a bedroom.
“Get out,” Sawyer growled, his hand squeezing mine with unmatched force. The expression on his face was enough, for the fucking couple quickly got it together, grabbing their clothes and skedaddling.
My eyes roamed the room, finding a glass lamp, a semi-open drawer in the dresser, other various objects I could use if I had to. Growing up how I grew up, you tended to notice these things without really trying. I had no idea if Sawyer got off on things like forcing himself on others, but I knew he didn’t have to to get his dick wet. Girls fawned over him like crazy. Still, though, you never knew with people. Sometimes they surprised you in the worst of ways.
Sawyer closed the door behind him, his blue eyes icy. The room smelled of sweat and sex; two things I shouldn’t notice just before talking to Sawyer about Declan.
“Why the fuck would you bring up that dickhead’s name in my house?” Sawyer growled out, absolutely livid.
I walked around the room, studying it. It all seemed pretty clean, in spite of the sweaty, messed-up sheets. It wasn’t what I would’ve pictured his room to be. “Is this your room?” I asked, tossing him a look over my shoulder. A picture of a cityscape hung on the wall, the buildings all shadows and the sun in oranges and pinks behind them. It was a pretty painting.
“Why don’t you answer my question first?” Sawyer shot back, frowning.
I went to sit on the bed, near the lamp. “You know, I don’t think I’m going to. From what I hear, I’m the one who should be asking you all the questions, Sawyer Salvatore.” His last name felt weird on my tongue; too fancy, too rich.
“You have a lot of nerve, showing up to my party, bringing up that bastard, and then acting like you’re the one in the right.”
My hand roamed the mattress underneath me. It was a comfortable one. I could easily fall asleep here; so much comfier than the mattresses in the dorm rooms. “Here’s the thing, Sawyer. From where I sit, it looks like you’re a bully. Bullies are so elementary, by the way.” He opened his mouth to retort, but I went on, “And no one likes a bully. You might have some skills with your dick, but that’s not going to get you far in life. What will get you far is your parents’ money. That is how you got this house, right?”
He took a few steps toward me. “And your point is? You have no idea what went down between Declan and my sister. No idea—”
“I know he loved her, and she killed herself.”
He probably wanted to strangle me, but he held back. Sawyer was not happy when he said, “She didn’t kill herself.” The rich boy sounded so sure of himself, like there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Sabrina had been murdered.
“What makes you so sure?” I’d read the articles, but ultimately, it was ruled a suicide. If all the signs pointed to murder, I was reasonably certain the police would’ve investigated it.
“Because she was my sister,” Sawyer practically shouted, fuming. “Because I knew her.”
I got to my feet, tilting my head. “Didn’t you know Declan, too? You were friends before all this went down. Did you ever stop and wonder how he feels about it, or were you too busy drowning in your own grief that you blamed him for it?”
Sawyer’s shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths. Sabrina was a touchy subject for him, as was Declan. The smooth, suave man from downstairs was long gone now, a frowning, red-faced man in his place. “She was my sister. There’s no trumping family. Someone from a trailer park like you should know that by now.”
Wow. A trailer park. I expected to hear a lot of insult
s about my family’s lack of money, but a trailer park? Mom and I were always short on money, but that didn’t mean we were from a trailer park—and even if we were, there was nothing wrong with it. Apparently those from trailer parks could still be less of a dick than those born into money.
“Yeah, well sometimes you’re born into a sucky family. My mom? I love her. But my dad? He could go jump off a bridge and I wouldn’t care. Friends are the family you choose to make.” God. What the hell was I doing, lecturing Sawyer Salvatore? It was like talking to a wall. A brick wall. Pointless all around, and it would only lead to annoyance.
“Poor people say that shit. When you have money, things are different.” Sawyer looked at me hard, as if he knew something I didn’t. Which, granted, he probably did, because I was the one who walked into this mess a week ago.
One week ago. That’s it? Felt like so much longer.
“What?” I said, instantly aggravated by his flippant tone and his haughty stare. If I could punch a look off his face, I would. But alas, the bastard was stronger than me. Punching him in the face would only lead to an aching knuckle on my part.
“Declan told you all about Sabrina, did he?” Sawyer moved to lounge on the bed, spreading out his legs before me. Such long, strong legs. His blazer fell open, and with the position he had on the bed, an inch of his abdomen peeked out beneath his shirt, an abdomen that looked ridiculously well-muscled and toned. “Did he tell you that they were broken up when it happened?”
My mouth was open before he finished his question, and I was readying myself for a comeback, but what he said…it wasn’t what I was expecting. No, Declan most definitely did not tell me that little tidbit. He’d chosen to keep that part to himself. Why?
“He didn’t,” Sawyer said, sitting up at the edge of the bed, leaning as close to me as he could without actually getting up. “He didn’t tell you, because he knew you’d think he did it. No one knew they were broken up but me. And Travis, but—”
“Travis knew, too?” Ugh. The way I asked, how I leaned in, as if I’d known all these guys for longer than a week. It was driving me bonkers. I hated it.
Sawyer nodded. “We were all friends before that. I grew up with them both.” And yet he blamed Declan and not Travis. What if someone forced Sabrina to write that note blaming Declan? Or what if she just kicked off her chair a bit too hard and sent it across the room? The police ruled it a suicide, so there had to be more than Sawyer was saying.
“What is it about him that makes you believe him?” Sawyer asked, his voice low. He stared up at me through half-closed eyes, far too serious suddenly. My heart thudded in my chest. If only we weren’t talking about his sister’s supposed murder; on a normal occasion, I wouldn’t mind a guy giving me a look like that.
“I don’t get a killer vibe off him,” I said, knowing how stupid I sounded the moment I said it. “And you? I think you’re just entitled. I think you want someone to blame, so you blame him. It’s easy to blame someone else, especially when that someone is still alive.” Blaming his dead sister for committing suicide? Hell would freeze over before Sawyer did that.
Now that I said it, I knew what I believed, at least where Declan and Sawyer were concerned. I didn’t think either of them had anything to do with what Sabrina did. Granted, I could be totally off base here since I was so new to the situation, and these guys have had just under a year to put on their masks, but if I was wrong, I’d be shocked.
Sawyer was a tool, a bit of an overconfident ass, but he wasn’t a killer, and Declan? Like I said before: cinnamon roll, too precious for this world.
“What would you know about it? What would you know about any of this?” Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed me by the wrist and yanked me toward him. Sawyer sat on the edge of the bed, his legs spread, allowing me to stand between them, my body pressed up against his. Since he was sitting, I was actually a few inches taller than him, but what little ground I had by being taller was cut off by the way he held onto my wrists—one at first. The second came soon after.
He pressed his nose against my neck, breathing me in. When I inhaled, I felt like I was pressing myself harder against him. This was…not a position I should be in, and yet I wasn’t fighting him, wasn’t pulling away.
That damned horny vagina of mine. Down, girl.
“You have no idea what you’ve walked into,” Sawyer murmured, tilting his face so that his lips brushed against the crook of my neck. Such sensitive skin, such a light, soft touch compared to the way he held onto my wrists.
Sawyer was trouble personified, the very definition of the type of boy you wouldn’t want to bring home to your parents. Sure, he had money, but money wasn’t enough, not where I was concerned. Money couldn’t mean less to me.
But holy hell, he was gorgeous. He had a face you could just stare at for hours and still find new things to be drawn to. Even with that lazy, half-assed smile of his—I couldn’t say whether I’d ever seen another guy anywhere near his level. A rich, snobby, preppy boy who was half dead inside. Maybe that’s what I found so appealing about him, his uncaring, wild state. He was an animal dressed as a young man, and I knew myself well enough to realize that I liked the animals more than I liked the gentlemen.
Gentlemen were good, don’t get me wrong, but they were boring. If you looked at my past history of dating, you’d find a whole host of questionable decisions. Some I made unknowingly, some totally willingly. Here and now, though? I didn’t plan on making the same mistakes I had in the past. Whatever flirtation Sawyer was trying to do, whatever this was—if he was trying to turn me against Declan or not—wouldn’t work.
I couldn’t let it work. My horny vagina would have to settle for some self-love tonight.
What I should’ve done was push Sawyer away. Though it would’ve been difficult to do since he still held onto my wrists with a firm, unyielding grip, I could’ve managed. His dick was near my knee; a good, harsh jerk of my knee would’ve sent him reeling. But…I didn’t. Even though I knew what I should do, I did the opposite.
Who could blame me? He smelled so nice, and his body? Perfection, rich kid blazer or not.
“Then help me understand,” I whispered back, a challenge to everything Sawyer was, everything he pretended to be. I knew he was empty inside with Sabrina’s absence; this was all just a show, but for whose benefit? Mine, or his?
Sawyer’s hard grip on my wrist loosened, traveling up my arms, his hands running up my bare skin, snaking down my back. He held onto me with an aggressive possessiveness, like he was claiming me, marking me as his. “I can do more than that,” he murmured, lips brushing against the tender flesh of my neck. A chill went up my back, and I practically melted in his grip.
My mind kept giving me giant neon warning signs reading Bad Idea, Ash and Turn Back Now, Before It’s Too Late, but my body? My body was on another wavelength, its sign reading: Hell Yeah, Time to Get Fucked.
I know, my body could be so crass sometimes.
He pressed his lips against my neck, and a fluttery, girlish sigh escaped me. He held me tighter to him, and though he was sitting down, his legs around me, I could feel the beginning traces of his hardness. Everything always came down to sex for people like Sawyer.
And people like me, I guess.
One of his hands curved around my ass, cupping my butt hard, fingers digging into my jeans. Suddenly it felt like I was both wearing too much and not enough. Since my own hands were free, I drew them along his shoulders, tugging his hair, keeping his face buried in my neck. He’d started to roam, and I knew the moment I looked into his hungry, half-lidded expression, it would all be over. My willpower to fight this would be over.
Hell, at this point, my body was asking, Sabrina who? Who cared what happened to her; she was dead now. There was no point in reminiscing about the past so much, or trying to get revenge. Why couldn’t we all just live in the now and move past this? Silly as it was, in this moment I felt like it was my duty to bring these broken, depressed
souls back together, mend the broken bridges between Sawyer, Travis, and Declan.
So stupid, right? Not to mention rude. I might be a bitch sometimes, but only to those who deserve it. Sabrina didn’t deserve it. She was dead. Disrespecting a dead girl was a clear violation of human decency. I knew it was in short supply these days, but I tried my best when I could.
This…this couldn’t happen.
“Sawyer,” I croaked out his name, hating what I was about to say, not wanting to say it. The old me never would’ve stopped the sex; I would’ve just left after the sex had already happened. I know, I know. Look at me, turning over a new leaf. Crazy. Being around all these sad boys was making me seek to be a better person. It. Was. Disgusting.
“Mhmm,” he whispered against me, his breath hot on my throat. His lips roamed to my jawline, sending a thousand tiny tingles searing throughout me. My lower stomach clenched in anticipation, wanting this to continue…but it couldn’t.
I closed my eyes. “Stop.”
He didn’t stop.
He kept kissing along my jawline, nibbling my earlobe with precision, a type of soft, gentle touch that took time to master. He’d been in this position with a ton of girls—which, okay, wasn’t wrong in and of itself, and I’d didn’t view sex as a special thing to only do with someone I loved, but it didn’t exactly excite me to think that I was yet another notch on his bedpost. If he wanted to sleep with me, he had to work for it. The real problem with that would be keeping myself off him.
I was a horndog like no other, apparently.
It took every ounce of strength in my body to tug his head back by the hair. His blue eyes were semi-closed, his mouth hanging ajar. He didn’t look upset, just confused, like no girl had stopped him before. And, honestly, I bet no girl had. I mean, look at the guy. He oozed sex appeal, even with his half smirks and his cocky attitude. Every girl he’d ever been around had probably wanted to bang his brains out.