Cruel Intentions : A High School Bully Romance (Eastern High Series Book 1)

I knew Dad wouldn’t have a problem with Aubrey staying. He’s always had a soft spot for her, like he sees something in her that most people miss. I don’t know why she was so nervous—he’d help her in a heartbeat, no questions asked. And seeing him with Simone. It actually made me happy. She’s good for him, the kind of genuine nice that doesn’t feel forced.

That afternoon, the four of us just hung out—simple, easy, no drama. Dad even pulled out an old board game we used to play when Aubrey stayed over as kids. It was like stepping into the past, only now, everything between us is completely different.

Ever since Aubrey told me she loved me, something shifted. Something deeper, more intense, and completely undeniable. Those three words hit me like a punch to the chest, knocking the air right out of me. When she said it, time froze. I had to make sure I wasn’t dreaming because hearing her say it… Fuck. Her love is all I’ve ever wanted, even when I was too much of a goddamn idiot to admit it to myself.

There’s no way to describe how it feels to know the one person who’s owned your heart all these years feels the same. What we have now… it’s more than it ever was. It’s no longer innocent; it’s raw, consuming, and fueled by everything we’ve been through. Our love burns hotter, and every time I’m with her, I’m reminded of how good it feels to lose myself in her completely.

I crave her touch like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded, and I know she feels it too. It’s in the way her hands cling to me, desperate, like she can’t get close enough. It’s in the way her eyes hold mine, like I’m her whole world. I’m addicted to her—every smile, every sound, every fucking inch of her—and I know, without a doubt, Aubrey is just as addicted to me.

Yeah, even on the day when my dad came home with Simone, I couldn’t resist, fucking her until the early hours of the morning. Couldn’t get her out of my head, couldn’t stop thinking about all the filthy things I wanted to do to her. The way she moves on me, the way she gives herself over to it completely, it’s fucking intoxicating. She comes alive on my cock, moaning uncontrollably even when she’s trying so hard to keep quiet.

I had to cover her mouth with my hand when she came, her body trembling against mine. God, it was everything. I’m pretty sure my dad must’ve heard her—there’s no way he didn’t.

Not that he’d ever say anything. That’s not his style. He knows we’re together anyway. Saw us holding hands when we came out to meet Simone. I could feel his eyes on us, watching, probably connecting the dots.

I know how this works. He’ll want to have a talk soon, pull me aside for one of those fatherly conversations about respect and responsibility.

It’s been a few days, and Aubrey and I are starting to find our rhythm again. It’s far from perfect—hell, it’s messy and complicated—but there’s something steady beneath it all.

Like we’re learning how to be us again. Piece by piece, we’re rebuilding what was broken. And I’ll take it, no matter how slow the process.

I can tell she’s worried about going back to school, even if she won’t say it outright.

It’s there in the way her shoulders stiffen when she thinks I’m not paying attention, in the way she changes the subject anytime it comes up. No one at school knows about us—what she means to me. And while she’s been sitting out her suspension, the rumors have already started swirling.

I’ve heard the shit people are saying. Every word makes my blood fucking boil. Tia, Nicole, and their crew of bitches are behind it; I’d bet my life on that.

The nasty shit they’re spreading about Aubrey makes me want to march right up to them, slam their faces into their lockers, and tell them to shut the fuck up. Maybe even leave a dent in the metal, just to make sure they get the message.

But I didn’t. Not because I didn’t want to, but because Aubrey wouldn’t want me to fight her battles for her. She’s strong like that, even when she shouldn’t have to be.

Still, when she walks back into that school tomorrow, I’m going to make sure those assholes have something real to talk about.

I’ve never given a shit about petty high school drama. Making statements isn’t my thing. But this? Us. It’s different. I want Aubrey to know I’ve got her back, no matter what. And I want everyone else to understand one simple truth—she’s mine.

So fuck Tia. Fuck Nicole. Fuck their jealous, petty bullshit, and fuck anyone else who has a problem.

I’m sitting in my car outside Aubrey’s workplace, staring at the empty parking lot, my thoughts spinning. My phone buzzes on the seat next to me. I glance at the screen—an unknown number.

My jaw tightens. Who the fuck is texting me?

I open the message, and the second I read it, anger tears through me like a raging storm.

How the fuck did this bitch even get my number?

I grip the steering wheel hard, my chest heaving as I try to keep my cool. But the words are already burning in my brain, lighting a fire I can’t put out.

The text makes my pulse pound. My thumbs fly over the screen, hammering out a response: Fuck off.

I hover over the send button, my finger twitching with the urge to hit it. To throw the words back at her and let her know exactly what I think. But then I pause, my hand shaking as I hesitate.

Why give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me?

With a frustrated exhale, I delete the message and block her number.

She can crawl back to wherever the fuck she came from. I wish she’d stop pretending like she suddenly gives a shit, like she wants to play happy fucking families.

My grip tightens on my phone before I toss it back onto the passenger seat. The lingering anger refuses to fade, buzzing under my skin like a live wire.

Voices pull me out of my spiraling thoughts, and my gaze snaps up.

Aubrey’s walking toward me, her stride confident, but my focus immediately locks on the person beside her.

Jace. That smug asshole.

They’re deep in conversation, her face turned toward him as she talks, her body language relaxed. My jaw tightens. I trust Aubrey—of course I do—but Jace? Not a fucking chance.

I’ve seen the way he operates, the slick smile, the smooth lines, the calculated charm he uses to manipulate girls into giving him exactly what he wants. My stomach twists at the thought of him trying that shit on Aubrey. She’s too smart to fall for it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hate the idea of him trying.

Then it fucking happens.

The bastard reaches out, his hand landing on her shoulder. My fingers curl around the door handle, itching to step out and handle it. I could use the release—a fight would burn off the frustration still boiling from hearing from my mother.

But I don’t move. Not yet.

Because before I can react, Aubrey does. She steps away from him, sharp and deliberate, brushing him off with a precision that makes me pause. I freeze, watching as she speaks to him, her stance tense but unshaken.

Whatever she says makes his smug smile falter, and then she turns, walking straight toward the car.

Jace doesn’t follow. He doesn’t move at all. He just stands there, watching her, his gaze lingering far too long. Like he has any fucking right.

Anger surges through me, clawing at my chest as Aubrey slides into the passenger seat.

“What the hell was that about?” I snap, my voice sharper than I intend. My eyes are locked on Jace, his figure still frozen in the distance. “What did that asshole say to you?”

Aubrey exhales sharply, her tone calm but firm. “I told him to keep his hands off me and that he’s not to do it again.”

Her answer satisfies me, but it doesn’t douse the fire raging inside. I nod, gripping the steering wheel as I turn the key. The engine roars to life, the sound matching the irritation simmering just beneath my skin.

I throw the car into gear and pull out of the parking lot, the tires squealing slightly against the pavement.

Every move I make is laced with the anger I can’t quite shake, the image of Jace’s hand on Aubrey replaying in my head like a fucking taunt.

It’s not just Jace’s hand on her—it’s everything. The message from my mother earlier, the way she keeps clawing back into my life after disappearing for years. After all this time? What the fuck makes her think she can waltz back in like nothing happened?

Aubrey’s hand finds the back of my neck, her touch soft, grounding. Her fingers move gently, easing the tight knots of tension there. My hold on the steering wheel loosens slightly as her hand slides into my hair, her fingertips working their way through the strands. It’s such a simple gesture, but it pulls me out of my head for a moment—just enough to breathe.

“What’s wrong?” she asks quietly.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

There’s so much I want to say, but I hold back on mentioning Jace. Aubrey’s already handled him, and I’ll deal with that fucker tomorrow. Instead, I shift my focus to the other thing gnawing at me—the thing that feels like it’s going to split me open if I let it.

“I got a text from my mother tonight,” I begin, the words feel heavy in my mouth. “She wants to see me. Apparently, I should meet my brother and sister.”

The car falls into silence, the only sound the rhythmic clicking of the turn signal as I pull onto our street. It’s the kind of silence I hate—the kind that presses down on my chest like a weight.

I pull into the driveway, the tires crunching softly against the gravel. Killing the engine, I sit there for a moment, my hands still on the wheel.

Aubrey unbuckles her seatbelt and turns toward me, her gaze steady and searching, like she’s trying to figure out the best way to navigate the minefield I’ve just laid out.

“Maybe you should meet up with her?” she suggests gently, her voice careful, like she knows she’s treading dangerous ground.

I slowly turn to look at her, my jaw tightening. “She fucking walked away, Aub,” I snap, the heat in my voice sharp, though it’s not meant for her. It’s for my mother. “She didn’t care then, so why the fuck does she care now?”

The thought of seeing her again feels like ripping open a wound that never fully healed. And now, she wants to come back with her shiny new family, expecting me to play along. No. Fuck that.

“I know she did,” Aubrey says softly, her voice calm despite my anger. “But maybe if you see her face-to-face…” She pauses, choosing her words with care. “You could ask her why. Why now, after all this time, she suddenly wants to reconnect. Why does she think it matters?”

Her words sink in, stirring something I don’t want to confront. Without thinking, I reach out and pull her toward me, shifting her so she’s straddling my lap. Her presence steadies me in a way nothing else can.

I press my forehead against hers, closing my eyes as I grip her hips tightly. All I want is to lose myself in her, to drown out every fucked-up thought in the heat of her body, to make it all disappear, until the ache in my chest fades.

My hand moves to her throat, firm but measured, a possessive grip that steadies me as much as it grounds her. She’s mine—every inch, every breath—and I never want to let her go.

Moonlight spills through the car windows, casting a soft glow over her face, illuminating the curve of her lips and the hunger smoldering in her eyes. She holds her breath, her gaze locked on mine. Her body trembles, heat radiating from her, her entrance achingly close to my throbbing cock.

“Fuck me, Aubrey,” I rasp, my voice raw and desperate. “Please… I need you.” It’s not just her body I’m pleading for—it’s everything. The release, the salvation only she can give me.

She knows that ache, that hollow void. Aubrey always understands.

With deliberate slowness, she reaches for the seat adjustment, lowering it with a smooth motion.

The seat reclines, giving us more space, and she moves with it, her body pressing closer to mine.

As my hand falls from her throat, she takes charge without hesitation. Her hands move to the buttons of her work shirt, unfastening them one by one. She shrugs it off with confidence. Her bra follows, and the sight of her bare tits under the moonlight is nearly my undoing.

“Fuck,” I mutter, the word catching in my throat as my gaze drinks her in. The way her nipples harden under my stare, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath—it’s intoxicating. And yet, I crave more.

She moves to unbutton my jeans, her fingers deft and quick, and when she pulls my cock free, a rush shoots straight through me. My head falls back against the seat, my eyes closing as her hand wraps around me, her touch firm but teasing.

She strokes me slowly at first, the steady rhythm making my cock throb with need. Every movement pulls me further away from the weight in my chest, closer to the only escape I trust—her.

“Kiss it,” I growl, my voice frayed with desperation. I move my hand to the base of my cock, aching to feel her mouth.

Aubrey doesn’t miss a beat. She shifts beside me, her weight leaving my lap, and the loss is a hollow ache. But then her hand is back, firm and deliberate around my shaft.

When her lips press a soft, teasing kiss to the tip, it’s like lightning crackling through my veins. Her tongue flicks out, catching the bead of cum, and my breath catches.

Watching her like this, confident and utterly in control, leaves me undone in the best way. Powerless, yet utterly consumed by her.

“Keep going,” I murmur, voice strained and thick with need.

I don’t have to say it twice. Her lips curve into a knowing smirk, that glint of mischief in her eyes.

Her tongue swirls slowly around the sensitive tip, her movements deliberate and teasing. Each flick sends a surge of pleasure ripping through me. My stomach clenches, a guttural groan tearing free as I fight to keep my composure. It’s agony and ecstasy, an exquisite torment that strips away every thought but her.

When her lips wrap tighter around the head of my cock and she sucks, a shudder ripples through me. I swear I lose a part of myself to her in that moment. The sharp throb toes the line between pain and pleasure, but it’s the kind I’d surrender to again and again.

My hand slides into her hair, tangling in the soft strands as I hold her steady—not just to guide her, but to anchor myself to the earth.

She parts her lips wider, stretching them around me, taking me deeper with every deliberate motion. Her tongue presses against the underside of my cock, the wet heat of her mouth drawing me further into her spell.

My jaw tightens as I watch her, utterly transfixed.

I push deeper, and her throat tightens briefly before she relaxes, her resilience cutting through my control. Her eyes flick up, meeting mine, and I see the fire there—determination mixed with challenge. My restraint frays, unravels entirely.

“Fuck, Aub,” I growl, my voice rough and broken. “Take it. Take all of me.”

I pull back, then thrust forward again, the tension in my body coiling tighter with every movement. My head falls back briefly, my eyes squeezing shut as I savor the raw pleasure, but I force them open.

I need to see her—see the way she takes me, the way she owns every second of this.

Her gaze locks with mine, and a low, growl tears from my throat. My hand tightens in her hair, a silent warning. And then I slam into her mouth, the rhythm relentless, driven by pure, aching need. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t falter. Instead, she matches me, her mouth opening wider to take me deeper, her resolve unshakable.

“Holy fuck,” I gasp, my chest heaving as my hips snap forward. “It feels so fucking good. I could do this every day—feed you my cock, lose myself in you.” The words spill out, unfiltered and raw, because with her, there’s no holding back.

She sucks harder, her lips sealing tight, her tongue working in perfect rhythm. The pressure builds, unbearable and intoxicating, until I’m trembling. My hips jerk, the pace frenzied, as I teeter on the edge.

“Fuck—Aubrey,” I hiss, my voice barely more than a rasp. “You’re going to make me come so fucking hard.”

The tension snaps, pleasure ripping through me like a lightning strike. My body convulses, my cock pulsing as I spill into her mouth. My hips drive forward one final time, every nerve alight, every sensation magnified. She doesn’t stop, her mouth working me with relentless precision, coaxing every last drop as if claiming a part of me I’ll never get back.

As I collapse back against the seat, my chest heaving and body trembling—the way she’s left me undone, completely and utterly hers.

I glance down at her, and the sight unravels me all over again. She’s still moving, still breaking me apart piece by piece, her lips and tongue working me dry with an almost maddening precision.

When her motions slow, she looks up at me, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She’s utterly breathtaking, a fucking masterpiece.

“Fuck, Aub,” I rasp, my voice hoarse, my fingers still tangled in her hair.

With a soft pop, she releases me, her lips swollen and glistening as she leans back, her breaths uneven. The sight of her—disheveled, flushed, and marked by what we’ve just done—sends another jolt of heat surging through me.

She shifts, climbing up to straddle me, her knees pressing into my thighs, her body warm and flush against mine. Her hands brace on my shoulders as she sits up, capturing my mouth in a kiss. It’s softer than I expect, a lingering tenderness.

Between kisses, she murmurs, “We should head inside before your dad wonders what we’re up to.”

She grabs her shirt, pulling it on, leaving her bra forgotten on the floor. As she moves to climb off me, to open the car door, I grab her wrist, yanking her back into my arms.

Our lips collide in a kiss that’s anything but gentle—it’s raw, desperate, a chaotic clash of teeth and tongues as I pour every messy, fucked-up feeling into her.

My hand cups the back of her neck, holding her in place like letting go would shatter me. “You have no fucking idea what you do to me.”

She lets out a soft laugh, her lips brushing mine one last time before she leans back. “If your dad sees us out here too long, he’ll start asking questions. And I can’t mess this up, Noah. I don’t want to screw this up.”

Reluctantly, I shove my cock back into my jeans and step out of the car, following her into the cool night air. I watch as Aubrey straightens her clothes, her hands smoothing over the fabric like she’s trying to erase the evidence of what just happened.

Her gaze flicks to mine, and I catch the flicker of worry there—the fear of fucking this up. She doesn’t need to stress; my dad would never kick her out.