The Dare: A Stepbrother Bully Romance (North Woods University Book 2) Read online

  “Shut. Up. No more lies. No more words. No. More. Fucking. Talking. You used me, you used my body, my emotions, and now I’m going to use you.” He takes another step forward, and I take one back, my back hitting the table behind me, leaving me nowhere else to go. Trapped. I’m trapped.

  He closes the distance between us with one large stride. The air grows thick with tension, with arousal. Part of me is terrified of having him so close, ironically, another part of me takes comfort in his body being so near.

  I’m equally scared and excited when he leans in, his chest pressing against mine while grinding his groin into my center, making it impossible for me to miss how turned on he is. His face is so close to mine, his minty breath fans out against my cheek as he leans in and whispers directly into my ear. “Turn around.” His voice is deep and gravelly, the sound vibrating through me, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

  My mouth goes dry, and I lick my lips instead of kissing him like I want to. I can feel the slickness of my folds wetting my panties. And when our gazes meet for a fraction of a second, it feels like we’re seconds away from exploding into each other. The lust and carnal need in his eyes leave me breathless. He hates me, but he also wants me, and right now, I’ll take that. If that is the only way I can be close to him, then that’s enough for me.

  My body moves on its own, following his order as if it was always made to. I start to turn slowly, but apparently too slow for Vance because he grabs my hips and spins me around in one swift move, then dips his fingers into the waistband of my leggings, his fingers make contact with my skin and a small zing of pleasure ripples across my skin. He shoves my leggings and panties down swiftly, leaving them at my ankles.

  Cool air caresses my heated skin as I listen to Vance undo his pants behind me.

  “Hands on the table,” he orders gruffly, and all I can do is follow his command. I place my palms flat on the tabletop.

  My nipples harden uncomfortably inside my bra. A soft groan meets my ears, and I can’t comprehend if that came for me or Vance. The lines between hate and want are so muddled right now it’s almost like we’re trying everything we can to not hate each other. Vance places a hand to my lower back to hold me in place and then I feel the smooth head of his cock at my pussy. He drags himself up and down through my folds, growling when he realizes how wet I am for him, how much I crave his touch, even if he is not gentle and loving like he was two nights ago.

  “Tell me you want this...tell me you want me to fuck you.”

  “Yes,” I whimper, just as I feel him tease over my entrance. I want him. I want him so badly. Without any warning, he slams into me, stretching me as he buries his length inside of my channel, stopping only once his heavy balls slap against my ass. There’s a slight sting of pain, and I cry out with the mixture of both pain and pleasure at the intrusion.

  “Vance…” I whimper, gripping onto the table for leverage, knowing that he’s about to make me feel every ounce of anger, and hate he has for me. I might not deserve it, but I’ll take it for him. I’ll harbor the weight of his father’s betrayal.

  He doesn’t stop to give me time to adjust, he takes me hard and fast, plowing into me like an animal. I can feel his rage with each thrust mounting, his fingers digging into my hips as he pulls me back every time he thrusts inside.

  My arms give out and I let my upper body rest on the table, turning my head to the side, I press my cheek against the flat wooden surface and continue to hold onto the edge as he continues fucking me, his strokes more furious than the next.

  A tingle starts to spread from my center and outward, working its way through my limbs. My legs start to shake, letting me know I’m close, my pussy quivering. I push up onto my tiptoes, trying to get him to hit that spot that I know will drive me over the edge. So close, so fucking close. I bite into my bottom lip feeling the pleasure build. I’m almost there when he slows down, nearly pulling all the way out of me.

  “Don’t you dare come. This is not for you. This is for me.”

  His hand pushes me back down on the table so I can’t move my hips at the angle that I want to. Then he enters me again, his strokes are deep, so deep I can feel him inside my belly, but they’re also annoyingly slow. And the pleasure I was feeling before is long gone now. There’s no way I can come at the pace he’s going, and I guess that’s the point. He’s punishing me, showing me that he has all the power.

  He thrusts into me a few more times, only picking up speed the last two strokes for his own release. Grunting, I feel his cock growing, and seconds later, he comes inside of me, coating my inner walls with his cum as his fingers dig into my flesh with bruising force.

  “Fuck,” he grunts. “Fuck…”

  A moment later, he pulls out of me and steps away. The loss of his body leaves me cold and empty all over, only the cum dripping out between my folds is left of him. I want him to touch me again. I want him to make me come. But most of all, I just want him to hold me, to tell me that he believes me and that everything will be okay.

  Instead, I hear the sound of jeans rustling and a zipper zipping. I don’t move. Heavy footsteps followed by the clicking noise of the door unlocking, meets my ear, but I still don’t move. I’m spent, between my interaction with Clark and Vance just now I feel… hopeless, lost in a vast ocean of emotions.

  It takes me a long time to get the strength to push myself up and off the table but when I do, I pull my panties and leggings up, righting my clothing. I feel dirty and used. My muscles ache, and my eyes hurt from the crying I had done earlier. All I want to do is go home and curl up in my bed, forgetting everything around me, but if I go home, I have to face Henry, my mom, and worst of all, Vance. I have nowhere else to go. I have no friends. I have nothing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Vance

  I haven’t seen her in twenty-four hours and I feel like a drug addict coming off a trip, unable to get more of his favorite drug. Somehow she has managed to avoid me after I fucked her bent over the table in the empty classroom. I walk down the stairs and knock on my father’s office door. He looks up from some paperwork and waves me in.

  “Hey son,” he greets, pushing the folders of paperwork away from him.

  “Hey, did you talk to Ava yet?” I really don’t care if he did or not. I just want to know where she is, and I would rather not let on to him how obsessed I am with her.

  “No, I’m not sure where she is. I have a feeling she’s been avoiding me. My guess is she knows that she’s been caught lying and doesn’t want to face the consequences. I wish her father had put more effort into disciplining her.”

  “Okay, she must have come home sometime, it’s not like she has anywhere else to go.” I’m thinking out loud again. Shit.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie. Fine, yeah, no. I’m not fine at all. I’m on edge, angry, and confused. Confused about the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts that I can’t get in order over Ava. I can’t suppress my need for her, no matter how hard I try.

  “Is she bothering you again?” he asks. Half of me says to tell him she is, hell, make her disappear, hopefully forever, while the other half wants to torment her myself, keep her right where I want her.

  “Nah, she’s behaving,” I murmur, slipping out of his office before he can ask me another question. The thing about this house is when it’s quiet, you can hear everything. As I enter the hall, I hear the front door opening quietly, followed by light footsteps racing up the stairs. By the time I come around the corner, I’ve only caught a glimpse of her at the top of the stairs before she disappears again.

  My lips curve into a predatory smile. I'm about to get my fix, my first hit in what seems like forever. The blood in my veins tingle and saliva fills my mouth. As badly as we don’t want to admit we want each other, maybe we even need each other. The hate I have for her melts away, giving way to a different emotion all together when I’m inside her. But as soon as I pull out, that feeling fades away, and I’m reminded th
at she’s a liar, a master-fucking-manipulator.

  Taking my time, I walk up the stairs, one step at a time, feeling myself being pulled closer and closer to her without thought. I don’t want to burst into her room as soon as she gets here. I want her to think she’s safe and secure, then I’ll come in and pull the rug out from underneath her, keeping her on her tiny little toes. Then she’ll never know when to expect me...she’ll merely have to watch her back at all times, wondering what and where I am.

  I come to a stop right in front of her door. My lips form into a line, and before I pull on that tight mask that covers my real emotions, I stand there taking comfort in knowing she is only a few feet away from me. Even with the door between us, my need for her is soothed. I want her close, but far away at the same time. She leaves my brain in disarray, scrambling it like a plate of scrambled eggs.

  I can hear her on the other side of the door, smell her unique floral scent, and almost feel her heat. Almost. After about ten minutes, my patience has worn out. As quietly as I can, I feel for the key laying on the top of the doorframe, knowing without a doubt that she’s locked her door. Or at least I hope she has, if she’s smart, she would.

  Her trust in me is confusing. I thought she would push me away yesterday, fight me, maybe even scream, but instead, she shocked me by letting me fuck her like I wanted to. She let me use her for my own pleasure without so much as a peep. I can still remember the feeling of her quivering pussy around my cock. I wanted to let her come so badly, but that wouldn’t have made it a punishment for her, and I wanted to punish her, break her so badly it was all I could feel, up until I slid inside her. Maybe letting me use her body was her way of saying sorry. As if that would be enough, it would never be enough.

  She didn’t have to let me touch her. If she had told me to stop, I would’ve even though I didn’t want to, but she didn’t because deep down she wanted me to use her, she wanted me to touch her, to fuck her, and I hold onto that knowledge with an iron fist, knowing I’ll use it against her over and over again. Inserting the key, I turn it, listening to the small click when the door unlocks. Turning the knob, I push the door open, bracing myself for her to yell at me, maybe even push me out.

  Instead, I find her room empty.

  I can hear the shower running in the bathroom and my dick turns incredibly hard. So much bare smooth skin is hiding on the other side of that door. I lick my lips in anticipation and walk toward the bathroom. I test the doorknob, turning it gently, smiling when I realize it’s not locked. I kind of expected her to be paranoid enough to lock the bathroom door as well. Hot steam hits my face as I push the door open.

  Her perfect silhouette hiding behind the see-through frosted glass of the shower enclosure is the first thing I see when I step inside. I close the door behind me, the noise alerting her to my presence.

  “Get out, Vance,” she yells over the roar of the shower, much less surprised of me being here than I thought she would be, taking a little of the wind out of my sails.

  Tilting my head to the side, I ask, “Why? I thought you would be happy to give me another show.”

  “Just go away, please. You’ve hurt me enough, and I don’t have it in me to fight with you right now,” she says in a much lower, almost defeated tone.

  She sounds tired, hurt, maybe even broken. Just as I told her she would be. I ignore the feelings her sadness gives me. I don’t have room inside me to feel sorry for her. Anger and resentment taking up too much space already.

  “I bet your nipples are hard right now, your pussy dripping for me,” I taunt. “I’m ready to use you again. So wash nice and good between your legs. I’m not sure where or who you’ve been with last night, but I don’t want to catch anything.”

  The thought of her being with someone else has my blood boiling. She better not have been with anyone else. Not unless she wants me to go to jail for murder. Though knowing her, she’d probably tell me she did just to spite me.

  “Leave, I don’t want to have sex with you again.”

  “I didn’t ask you what you want. I said I’m ready to use you again. Finish up your shower so you can get me off. Unless you want me to come into the shower to do it. Maybe I’ll throat fuck you today. I’m getting tired of your mouth running, like you have a fucking choice in anything I do to you. It’ll be a lot harder for you to talk with my cock in your mouth.”

  “I’m not one of your whores, Vance, and I’m not having sex with you again. I’m definitely not giving you a blow job either. If you so desperately need to get off, maybe go find Sarah. My vagina isn’t taking orders from some boy that thinks he knows me.”

  Somehow she’s grown a backbone since the last time we saw each other. I’ll take pleasure in snapping that newly formed bone, along with whatever attitude she plans to give me. I own her now, her pleasure, her sadness, her pain. I hold all the keys, and I'll unlock all the doors I have to prove my points.

  She turns off the water a moment before pushing the shower door open.

  I’ve seen her naked before but still, the sight of her, it takes my breath away. There’s nothing like it, her beauty is profound. Her wet hair sticks to her skin around her shoulders and collarbone, her breasts are perked up, her light pink nipples rising and falling with every breath she takes. Tiny droplets of water kiss her pale smooth skin like freckles.

  My eyes wander all the way south until I’m looking at her perfect little pussy. I’ve got self-control and I would say I’m pretty good at holding onto it, but it takes a lot out of me to not reach out and run my fingers over her and through her folds. My hand twitches with a possessive need to touch her. And I curl it into a fist, digging my nails into my palm to stop the ache.

  She steps out of the large shower stall with her head held high, that cute little chin of hers jutted out. If she’s trying to prove that she’s strong and unaffected by me, she’s doing a shit job, and ironically, she’s not a good enough actor which surprises me given all the lying she does.

  Not when I can hear the light tremble in her voice and see the subtle shaking of her hands when she reaches for the towel. You’d think she would be able to give an Oscar-worthy performance every time.

  I guess not...I guess a liar is only as good as the lies they’re telling.

  She wraps the fluffy towel around her torso, covering up the beautiful canvas I had been admiring and wipes the condensation off the mirror with her palm. Then she picks up her toothbrush and starts brushing her teeth, trying her best to ignore me. Adorable. As if I’m that fucking forgettable. Taking a step forward, I center myself directly behind her, lifting a hand, I skim it across her shoulders.

  Try and ignore me now. I force myself to smile when I know I should be punching myself in the face, but I can’t help it. She lied, she used me, and I never saw it coming I fed right into her fucking hand.

  Spitting into the sink before spinning around, she slaps my hand away.

  “Don’t touch me,” she growls, and my smirk widens.

  “Oh, I plan on doing much more than touching… and it’s not like you don’t want it. Stop playing hard to get,” I say, pinching one of her towel-covered tits.

  She shoves at my chest with both hands, making me stumble back. The heat of her touch resonates through my chest. I want to pull her closer, wrap my arms around her, but I also want to see her cry, see those beautiful emerald eyes fill with tears.

  “I said no! This is over. I’m done trusting you. We are done!” she yells, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I can’t help but laugh at her words. She’s done trusting me? That’s rich. “Get. Out,” she huffs, squeezing her eyes shut and I’m surprised at how angry she sounds. I decide to let her cool off then. I don’t want to break her too fast. I’m going to draw out the pain, make it hurt as bad as I can.

  “Fine, I’ll wait in your room for you. But make sure your pussy is nice and wet when you get out. I’ll still fuck you if it isn’t, but I’d prefer for it to be, a wet pussy fucks better than a dry one,” I sa
y, even though I’m pretty sure she is more than serious about not having sex.

  Too bad, I was really looking forward to using her body against her today, but I’m not about forcing her. I have other ways to get my rocks off to hurt her.

  Back in her room, I look around the space, trying to find something of interest. My eyes catch sight of her laptop sitting on her desk. Jackpot. I walk across the room and flip the thing open, shaking my head at her stupidity when I realize she doesn’t have it password protected. Cracking my knuckles, I grin like the asshole I am and start to flip through the folders on the screen and stop at the one that says Homework.

  I open it and delete every single file in it. Then I click the Trash icon in the corner and empty it out, making sure she can’t recover any of her homework.

  Boom! Asshole deed of the day, done.

  Satisfied with my work, I shut the computer and sit down on her bed, lounging on it like I own the place. I don’t have to wait long before she exits the bathroom, shooting me an angry glare that’s filled to the brim with flames of fire.

  “I said to get out, Vance, and I meant it. Keep fucking with me and I’ll go to my mom.”

  Her threat is laughable more than anything. I open my mouth to respond when she suddenly drops the towel in front of the dresser. Fuck. My cock stands at attention, growing like a weed in a second flat. I stare at her smooth ass and envision entering her from behind before I can stop myself. She starts to pull on her clothes, and by then, I finally get my mouth to work again.

  Swallowing a knot of arousal down, I say, “Is that a threat?”

  She turns around to face me for half a second, her eyes burn into mine and I see all the pain, all the sadness I’ve caused her.

  “It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”

  Then, without another word, she leaves the room. What the… Who the fuck does she think she is? I won’t lie and say my mouth isn’t left gaping open like a fish flopping out of water. She doesn’t get to talk to me like that…