Rourke
“HEY GUYS, IF YOU listen real careful, I think ya’ll will just about be able to hear it!” Mason announced in a serious tone to the team after football practice on Tuesday afternoon.
Reebo, who was slouched on the bench next to me, threw his towel across the room at Mason. “The fuck you talking about, Mase?”
Mason caught the towel midair and grinned. “The sound of Rourke’s balls dropping.”
“Stupid shit,” Daryl, who was on my other side, muttered. “Ignore him, Rourke. The fool’s clueless.”
Waggling his brows, Mason added, “Sissy’s got the poor fucker all frazzled.” Encouraged by the sniggers of our teammates, Mason continued to fuck with me.
He stood up on the bench and cupped his hand to his chest. “Lord have Mercy,” he chuckled as he rolled his hips and pretended to be slapping something in front of him. It didn’t take a fucking genius to figure out what. “Girl’s got an ass like a fucking porn star.”
The room erupted in laughter and Bear, who was getting changed beside Mason, shook his head and sighed wearily. “You ain’t real smart, are you, Mase?”
“Aw, Rourke knows I’m only messing around.” Laughing, Mason jumped down from the bench and smirked. “It’s all good.”
I did know he was joking around, but that wouldn’t prevent him from getting his ass kicked.
I stood up, unsmiling, and walked across the room.
The moment Mason’s gaze landed on mine, all humor in his eyes faded fast.
“It was a joke, dude,” he offered, holding his hands up in retreat. “I was just screwing around.”
I didn’t say a word as I approached. I just smiled, knowing I was about to bust this fucker’s nose.
“Rourke,” Mase warned, taking a step back. He knew the drill by now. Mason and I had a lifelong friendship where any issues that came up were always resolved in a fight. “Chill out. It was a joke.” When he realized I wasn’t about to chill out, Mase groaned. “Aw fuck,” he choked before taking a swing at me.
I ducked, easily dodging Mason’s fist, before rearing my head back and lunging forward. The moment my forehead connected with his nose, a loud crunching sound filled my ears.
“God fucking dammit, Rourke,” Mason howled, staggering backwards. “That’s the third fucking time you’ve broken my nose, fucker.” Covering his face with his hands to stem the loss of blood, he mumbled. “Always the fucking nose.”
“Make one more fucking comment about her and I’ll break your goddamn legs,” I warned him, tone low, eyes locked on my friend. “Mercy James isn’t a topic of humor or conversation for you or anyone else. You keep her name off your lips and her face out of your perverted fucking minds.” I looked around my teammates in warning. “Ya’ll got that?”
No one said a word, making it clear to me that these fuckers got it.
I grabbed my bag and stormed out of the changing rooms, not wanting to wait around and explain to coach why his first string tight end had a broken nose two days before game night.
I walked through the quad towards the student parking lot with my fists clenched tightly.
Listening to Mason talk about Six back there had been the straw that broke the camel’s back for me.
My proposition last night had gone down like a lead balloon and Six had been avoiding me like the plague ever since.
School sucked ass today, mostly because Six wasn’t talking to me. She just walked through the hallways with her nose cocked up in the air, ignoring the hell out of me.
I’d been watching her from a distance at school all day and it was driving me bat shit crazy. What was pushing me closer to the edge was having to watch the guys at school ogle her and watch her every move when she walked past. I personally wanted to kick the shit out of every guy that looked in her direction.
Nothing was calming me.
Absolutely nothing.
No amount of running or training helped. I was burning inside. Bristling with this unyielding thrum of energy buzzing inside of me.
Everywhere I went today, I either saw her or heard someone talking about her.
Yeah, Six was big news around the school – I’d known she would be. You didn’t look like her and go under the radar. Not that she seemed to give a damn about any of the attention. I liked that about her. She was completely unfazed by how she affected the guys around her. it was as if she didn’t care.
Maybe she didn’t.
Maybe she was used to it.
Had to be.
I thought about Mason and Daryl and how easy it was for them. They could promise a girl whatever she wanted to hear and not give a damn about the consequences or the aftermath.
Why couldn’t I be like that?
Because I read too much into shit.
No, I read too damn much into my mother’s fucking letters.
Promise me, Rourke, that you’ll never intentionally hurt a girl.
Always tell the truth, my boy, it’s much easier to remember.
Following your heart’s desire is a beautiful thing,
but don’t leave a trail of broken hearts in your wake.
You’re better than that. I’m writing this down because
I’m not going to be around to tell you this when you come of age...
Stupid fucking words on a stupid fucking journal.
Words I followed.
Yeah, I was a prick and probably a million other things, but I didn’t lie to girls. I told the truth to my fucking detriment. But it was times like these that it would be so much easier to lie.
It wasn’t like I was short on offers.
If I wanted sex, I could have it.
But I didn’t just want sex. I wanted it with Six. I wanted a lot with her.
Dammit.
She had some fucked up hold over me. I didn’t like it, feeling out of control, but I was also sort of hooked on the fantastic fucking way she made me feel. That buzzing feeling I got when I was around her was addictive as fuck. One look from her and I was undone. I honest to god felt like I had been sucker punched in the chest whenever she looked up at me with those big silver eyes.
And when she gave me shit?
It was so fucking hot.
I didn’t understand any of this, either. I couldn’t make one bit of sense of my feelings or actions. I only knew that I had to have her…
“You staking claim on her now?” I heard Mason calling out in the parking lot. Seconds later, he was by my side. “Mercedes,” he confirmed with an impish grin. “She yours now?”
“She sure as shit ain’t yours,” I shot back with a growl as I stalked to my truck. I needed to get out of here. I felt agitated and unpredictable. Bad fucking combination.
“You serious about her?” he asked, holding a bunch of blood soaked tissues to his nose.
“Not your business, Mase.” Unlocking my truck, I tossed my bag in the back seat before rounding the truck. “You should go ice that,” I added before opening the driver’s side door.
“Thought so,” Mase replied with a knowing smile. “Knew you wouldn’t put that mess with Britt to bed if you weren’t hung up on another girl.”
“I’m not hung up on anyone,” I shot back, lying through my fucking teeth. “I’m…”
“You’re what?” Mase asked, grinning when I didn’t finish my sentence.
Ruined. I’m fucking ruined. “I’m leaving,” I muttered before slamming my door shut and cranking the engine.
Mercedes
“HOW WAS SCHOOL TODAY, Mercy?” Amelia asked me the moment I got home from work on Tuesday night. She was sitting at the breakfast bar, looking intently at me. Her blonde hair framed her face like a halo of gold, making her look much younger than what she was.
“It was fine,” I told her. “I didn’t see you anywhere though.” I thought that was pretty weird. Amelia was a sophomore. In any of my old schools, I would bump into kids from different grades all day long. But then again, Ocean Bay Academy was the first private school I had ever stepped foot inside. Maybe it was different here.
“Our lunch schedule is different to the seniors,” she informed me with an easy smile. “And most of my classes take place in the west wing of the school.”
“The west wing?” I raised a brow. “How many wings are there?”
“A lot,” she chuckled. “The Academy is pretty big.” Understatement of the century. “You know, if you joined the girls soccer team, we would see more of each other.”
“Pass.” I fought back a shudder. “I’m not into sports.”
She looked at me in surprise. “Any sports?”
Does eating count as a sport? “Not a one.”
“Oh.” Amelia looked at me with a thoughtful expression.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she was quick to reply, a little red faced. “I was just thinking about something.”
“Care to share?”
“It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“Now I really want to know.”
“I was just remembering something I heard at soccer practice today,” she told me with a sheepish expression. “Something a few of the girls were saying about you and um… Rourke.”
Now I was the one to blush.
“What about me and Rourke?”
Amelia stared at me, her expression unreadable. “Some of the girls at school seem to be under the impression that you and Rourke are…a thing.”
“A thing?” I paled and quickly shook my head. “Why would anyone think that?”
“Because Rourke finally ended things with Brittany Beckitt yesterday,” Amelia supplied, intelligent blue eyes scanning my face. “For good, this time. And according to Sami Davidson – a senior on the cheerleading team – Britt went ballistic.”
He did?
Rourke really ended his screwed-up relationship with Britt – the girl he liked to fuck?
Ugh.
“What does any of that have to do with me?” I asked with a shaky voice. My palms were sweating, my heart racing erratically in my chest.
Why was I nervous? I didn’t need to feel nervous.
In fact, I shouldn’t be feeling anything at all.
Not about Rourke freaking Owens.
You see, I had a new resolve; do not succumb to my stepbrother’s charms.
Rourke could prance around the house half naked all he wanted. He could wink and flirt with me, and brush against my body with his to his heart’s content.
It wouldn’t affect me.
I wouldn’t allow it to.
Not since the words “I’m offering to fuck you,” came out of his mouth last night.
Whatever lunacy that had possessed me these last six weeks had taken a back seat to common sense. The desires and urges I felt towards Rourke were now repressed and safely locked away in my brain somewhere, in a big box with the words don’t touch, he’ll fuck you up scrawled over it.
Amelia raised her brows and gave me a ‘don’t treat me like I’m stupid’ expression. “I’m not blind, Mercy,” she said with a small frown. “I don’t know what it is, but there is definitely something happening between you and my brother.”
“There really isn’t,” I lied, feeling the burn all the way down to my toes. “Anything between us, I mean.”
“I know how Rourke presents himself to the world,” Amelia continued like I hadn’t spoken. “A foulmouthed asshole who doesn’t give a damn about anyone, but it’s not true. Don’t believe the act. Look beyond it. There’s a broken boy screaming out to be loved underneath that hard exterior. You just have to scratch at the surface.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I see something between you two,” she replied honestly. “A connection.”
Thankfully, I didn’t have to respond to her statement because Rourke chose this exact moment to saunter into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants.
Immediately, my traitorous heart decided to jackhammer in my chest; the sight of my stepbrother the cause of my body’s violent reaction.
“Mills,” Rourke acknowledged with a nod before turning to wink at me. “Six.”
“Rourke,” Amelia replied evenly.
“Did Fran leave anything for dinner?” he asked as he padded over to the oven and peeked inside. “I’m fucking starving.”
“What the hell happened to you?” Amelia demanded before I could. Both of us were gaping at the bruising on the left side of Rourke’s body.
Rourke looked from her to me before shrugging. “Got my ass kicked at practice this morning.”
“You got your ass kicked?” Amelia asked incredulously.
“It happens.” Closing the oven door, he moved towards the fridge, obviously unaffected by the look of horror on both of our faces. “Fuck yeah,” he muttered happily. “Quiche.”
“Not to you, Rourke,” she was quick to point out. “You never take hits like that.”
I remained silent, watching Rourke as he grabbed a fork from the drawer and quickly shoveled mouthfuls of quiche into his mouth.
God, he was so freaking sexy even when he was wounded.
Actually, the bruises only added to his sex appeal.
There was something primal about this boy…
“You want a piece of the quiche or a piece of me, Six?” Rourke asked with a double dimpled grin. “You’re staring real hard, girl.”
The dimples, I decided, must have come from Rourke’s mother. Neither Gabe nor Amelia sported a single one.
Mortified, I cleared my thoughts and flashed Rourke a glare. “Neither.”
“You sure you don’t wanna try a bite?” he shot back with a wolfish grin, holding out his fork towards me. “You never know; you might like it. You might even think it’s the best you’ve ever had.”
“Ugh.” Amelia cleared her throat loudly. “You’re so gross, Rourke.”
“I know I won’t,” I shot back firmly, forcing my features to remain impassive, while inside I was burning up. “I’m very selective in the quiches I taste.” Smiling sweetly, I added, “I’m sure yours tastes just the same as every other quiche in the world.”
Rourke smiled darkly in challenge. “Why don’t you come over here and check for yourself?”
“I…uh…have a lot of homework to do,” I blurted out, retreating from the kitchen, my face a deep burgundy color. I needed to get away from this guy. His mood swings were too much for me to handle. And he was too damn tempting!
Rourke threw his head back and laughed. “Rourke Jr. waiting for you upstairs?” Asshole. “Well, you know where I am if you get hungry.”
That bastard!
“Thanks,” I sneered. “But I’d rather starve.”
Rourke
“WHAT THE HELL ARE you playing at?” Six demanded, storming into my bedroom an hour later. Normally, I would have been mad as hell at anyone walking into my bedroom without knocking, but weirdly, I didn’t have a problem with this girl busting in on me.
“Taste your quiche?” she demanded in an infuriated tone, not giving me a chance to respond to her first question. “You’re a big dick, Rourke Owens.”
Smothering a laugh, I tried to keep a straight face as Six ranted at me. It wasn’t easy though, not when she looked so fucking sexy all flustered and outraged.
Standing in the middle of my bedroom dressed in tank top and tight cotton shorts, Six looked like she had just walked out of one of my dreams. She had her hands planted firmly on those fucking fantastic hips of her, and was glaring at me with fierce silver eyes. Her dark hair was free and flowing down her body.
Christ, she was beyond beautiful.
“Are you listening to me?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes.
No, I wasn’t listening to her; I was too busy fucking looking at her. “What’s up?” I managed to muster up, tone thick and gruff, eyes locked on her curves. I knew what was under those scraps of clothes Six had on and I was dying to see for myself again. Over and over again.
“You are what’s up,” Six growled, stalking towards me like a wild animal would its prey. “You and your stupid comments.” Seconds later, she flung herself onto my bed, tackling me. “You think you’re funny?” she hissed, shoving against my chest. “Teasing me about Rourke Jr. in front of Amelia of all people?”
“What’s the problem?” I taunted, enjoying every minute of her outburst. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. And besides, we both know it’s me you were thinking about that night.”
Her voice rose and her eyes flashed with fury. “I’ll give you Rourke fucking Jr.!” Straddling my lap, Six pushed me down on my back. “I’m going to kick your ass,” she grumbled before pulling my hair.
I grinned, happily letting her shove me down. “You’re the one still calling your rubber dick Rourke Jr..” Reaching around, I patted her ass with my hand. “Is this your version of kicking my ass? If so, feel free to kick my ass daily.”
“Like that, do you?” she huffed, yanking hard. Yeah, the girl actually pulled my fucking hair. “How about this?” she added, digging her nails into my upper arms. “Still think you’re funny?”
If she expected me to fight her off, she was going to be disappointed. I’d never been so turned on in my life.
“Christ, you’re so fucking hot right now, Six,” I groaned in pure delight. “Never thought I would, but I’m loving this dominatrix thing you’ve got going on, babe.”
“Dominatrix? Babe? Are you serious?” Six screeched. “Oh my god! Leave me alone, you jackass!”
“You’re the one pinning me to my bed,” I shot back, chuckling.
She looked down at me then, eyes wide and full of awareness. “Omigod,” she muttered, face flushed. “What the hell am I doing?”
“You’re kicking my ass?” I offered with a rueful smile. “And I’m enjoying every fucking minute of it.”
“What are you doing to me?” she whispered, her grey eyes trained on mine. “You’re making me crazy, Rourke.”
“Good,” I shot back gruffly. “Because you’ve been doing the same to me since you walked your ass through my door.” My hands moved to their hips of their own accord, her body on mine too much of a temptation to even try and resist.
How I had managed to resist Six for as long as I had was a miracle in itself. I’d been fighting and losing battle, I realized. Thinking I could resist that girl was fucking insanity on my behalf. There was no resisting Six. There was no denying how attracted I was to her either.
She looked fucking beautiful tonight. Every sexy curve was on full display and, for once, I didn’t have to pretend I was unaffected.
“You’re lying,” she challenged, her lustful gaze locked on my face.
“I’m not a liar.”
She raised a brow in challenge. “No?”
“No,” I confirmed, tightening my hold on her. “I only deal with honesty, Six. It’s who I am.”
She stared at me for a long moment before whispering, “Me too.”
Without thinking twice about it, I slipped my arms around her waist and rolled her onto her back.
Six rewarded me with a small scream that I erased with my mouth. I kissed her hard and fast before pulling back to gauge her reaction. I wanted her with a desire that bordered obsession, but I wasn’t about to take from her anything she wasn’t one hundred percent willing to give me.
“Why did you do that?” Six whispered, panting, her fingers knotting in the front of my wife beater. She was looking up at me, cheeks flushed, silver eyes dark with desire. “Rourke?”
“Because,” I shot back gruffly.
“Because?”
Settling between her legs, I lowered my face and brushed my nose against hers, exhaling a shaky breath when she shifted beneath me.
I adjusted my weight onto one elbow then and the friction of our bodies caused me to growl and Six to whimper. The soft moan that came from her throat was almost too much for me.
I hadn’t realized I’d been waiting for this. Looking forward to this. To her.
Unable to stop myself, I leaned into her neck and kissed the skin covering her fluttering pulse, inhaling a deep breath through my nose in the process. Fuck, even her scent was perfect. She smelled like coconut lotion and the ocean, and…Six. Jesus.
Clenching my eyes shut, I fought back a shiver and swiped my tongue across the bare skin of her neck. Tasted perfect, too.
“Rourke,” she moaned, wrapping her legs around my body. “Mmmm, god…Rourke,” she repeated, her words a breathy moan.
“What, Six?” I whispered, latching onto her neck with my lips. Suckling on her skin, I rocked against her and used my free hand to hitch one of her thighs up. “What do you need, baby?”
“More,” she pleaded, thrusting her tiny little body against mine. “Please.” Her voice was laced with aching longing. “I need...more.”
I knew exactly what she needed and I sure as hell planned on giving it to her many times over. I wondered if she was a screamer? How she’d sound when I finally buried myself inside her? How she would feel…
My thoughts caused my hunger for Six to grow and soon enough, I was frantic with my lips on hers and my hands under her shirt.
Her lips were soft and plump and melded perfectly to mine. She held me tightly against, her, small arms caged around my neck, pulling my face down to hers.
Six was clinging to me like she was afraid I would pull away at any moment. She didn’t need to worry tonight; I had no intentions of leaving her again.
“Rourke, Dad’s on the phone. He wants to talk to… I knew it!” The sound of my sister’s voice caused Six to freeze beneath me and me to groan in pure fucking frustration.
“Oh my god,” Six hissed, shoving against my chest. Reluctantly, I rolled off her and watched as she jumped off my bed and ran from my room, passing a grinning Amelia on her way.
“Nothing’s going on?” Amelia said in a mocking tone as she held her cell to her chest. “Sure thing, big brother.”
Flinging myself onto my stomach, feeling tortured, I grabbed a pillow and shoved my face into the fabric before groaning loudly.
God fucking dammit.
Mother fucking cock block…
“Um, Dad’s still on the line?” Amelia giggled and I reached behind me to flip her the bird.
“Sorry, Dad,” I heard her say, still giggling. Her voice grew softer, a clean sign she was retreating from my room. “Rourke’s having some…um, personal issues.”
Personal issues?
Oh, I was having personal issues alright; my balls had turned blue and were growing intimately acquainted with my stomach right about now.
I waited a few minutes, allowing my body time to simmer the hell down, before chasing after Six.
I knew the moment I knocked on her bedroom door that I was stepping over a line I wasn’t supposed to cross. But there was no going back for me. I was on fire for this girl and if she didn’t put me out of my misery soon, I had no doubt I would go up in flames.