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Endgame: An Ocean Bay standalone novel by Chloe Walsh (16)

 

Mercedes

 

I TOOK BACK EVERYTHING I had said to Molly the other day. There was nothing about Rourke Owens that I liked. Nothing at all. In fact, the boy was driving me freaking crazy.

Our parents had gone out for the night and Rourke had filled the house with people. I dreaded to think of what was to come when they actually left for their trip. If this was anything to go by, I was in for some sleepless nights.

A small part of me knew I should go down there and try and socialize. Very soon the horde of drunk teenagers’ downstairs would become my peers at school.

But then I thought better of it. I’d never cared about fitting in with people and it would be a cold day in hell before I tried to fit in with his crowd.

And besides, I wasn’t a fan of parties. I’d had a bad experience in my early teens that had put an abrupt end to any potential carefree teenage years.

Damn him, I was trying to get some much-needed sleep. I’d worked a late shift last night and an early one this morning. I was bone tired, but it was obvious from the sound of the music blaring down stairs that I wasn’t going to get any sleep in this place tonight.

Tired and cranky, I threw off my bed covers and stomped to my door.

Dressed in a tight, white tank and pajama shorts, I flung it open with every intention of going downstairs and giving that son of a bitch a piece of my mind, but I staggered to a halt when he walked out of his bedroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his narrow waist.

Well shit…

It was times like this, I wished so hard my stepbrother had been interested in table tennis or chess. A sport or hobby that wouldn’t require him to have a body like that.

“Looking for something, Six?” Rourke asked, tone mildly amused, as he smirked down at me.

“Yes,” I shot back, forcing myself to look at his face and not his smoking hot body. “Some peace and quiet, but apparently, that’s too much to ask for around here.”

“If you don’t like it, you know where the door is.”

Unsurprised by his snarky response, I placed my hands on my hips and glared up at him. “I’m tired, Rourke. I’ve been working all week and your friends’ downstairs are keeping me up with their music.”

“Again; you know where the door is.”

“You’re such a big dick,” I muttered, unable to stop my gaze from landing on his stomach again. Don’t look down, Mercy. Don’t look down at it

“I have such a big dick? Why yes, I do, Six. Thanks for noticing.”

What! “You know I didn’t say that.” But I had noticed.

Many times…

“It’s what you were thinking though?” Rourke dropped his towel and sauntered towards me.

“What are you doing?” I choked out, eyes locked on his penis. His very large, very erect penis.

With every step he took towards me, I found myself retreating, until there was no room left and my back hit my bedroom door. “Well, you’ve been staring so damn hard at that towel, I figured I’d put you out of your misery.”

“Wh-what are you doing?” I whispered when he stepped right up to me and placed his hand on the door handle beside my hip.

“What does it look like?” he replied, tone husky, seductive blue eyes locked on my face. “I’m getting a condom.” With that, he opened my bedroom door and prowled inside as naked as the day he was born. “In the future, don’t steal my shit,” he added when he returned a moment later, sauntering past me with a box of condoms in one hand and his trophy in the other. “It’s not nice.”

I watched, wide eyed, as Rourke walked back to his room and slammed the door shut. Seconds later, the sound a female giggling filled my ears and suddenly that was worse than all the crappy music in the world.

Ugh.

Unable to cope with the thought – and knowledge – of what was about to happen in the bedroom next to mine, I hurried down the staircase; choosing mingling with the drunk teenagers over listening to my stepbrother having sex.

“Sissy!” The sound of Daryl King’s voice penetrated my ears and I bit back a groan. Great, I thought to myself as I watched him walk over to me. Another big dick out for my blood. I shouldn’t have pushed him in the pool. It wasn’t his fault his best friend was a total asshole. I opened my mouth to tell him that when he reached me, but he surprised me by smiling down at me. “How the hell are you, Mercy James?”

“Um…fine?” Was this a trick? Was he going to pick me up and throw me in the pool, too?

“That you are, girl,” he shot back with a smile. “That you fucking are.”

Craning my neck, I stared up at him and frowned. “Why are you speaking to me?”

His brows rose in surprise. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t speak to you?”

“Rourke hates me,” I shot back. “You’re his best friend.” I shrugged, leaving him to fill in the blanks.

“True,” he countered, smiling down at me with perfect, white teeth. “Rourke is my best friend, but that doesn’t mean we share the same brain.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” he replied with a flirty wink. “Come on.” He reached forward and grabbed my hand. “Let me introduce you to the guys.” Daryl didn’t wait to give me a chance to agree; he simply dragged me through the crowd of people, stopping when we reached the kitchen and were met by three enormous guys. “Reebo, Bear, Mase; this is Mercedes James.” Grinning, Daryl gestured toward me with both hands. “Rourke’s new stepsister. She’s gonna be joining us at school next week.”

Three pairs of curious eyes landed on my face.

“Well…shit,” the tall blonde one said with a grin that matched Daryl’s. Pretty brown eyes stared down at me. “No wonder Rourke’s pissed.”

“Excuse me?” I folded my arms across my chest and glared up at who had to be the third most beautiful man I’d ever seen in real life. First place, I regretfully had to give to Rourke. Second went to Daryl the huge, mofo quarterback. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ignore Mason, sweetheart,” another guy offered. This one was seriously tanned, with jet black hair curling around the nape of his neck, sparkling greenish/brown eyes, and seriously built. “Mase has no manners,” he added in a thick Southern drawl. Taking ahold of my hand, he raised it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “The name’s Reebo. Reebo Rose.”

“Good to know,” I replied as I pulled my hand out of his.

“This is Bear,” Daryl announced, inclining his head to the other guy; the quiet one who seemed to be observing the whole situation.

“Hey,” he acknowledged, tipping his beer towards me.

I was sure this one was of Hispanic origin with a sexy tan and that dark smoldering look going on. What the hell did they feed the boys around here, because it sure as hell wasn’t the same shit as where I’d come from.

Goddamn.

“So you’re the famous Six?” The blonde asked, Mason I think they said his name was. “Damn,” he muttered before taking a swig from his beer bottle. “Bad hand of cards.

Six? Seriously? I wasn’t having this. “I resent that name,” I shot back with a hard bite to my voice.

Mason’s brows rose in surprise. “Sorry. It’s just…

“Yeah, I got it,” I interrupted, knowing full well who was to blame for the ridiculous nickname. “I still don’t like it. So, if you’re speaking to me, call me by my real name. Got it? Thanks.”

“You’ve got spunk, girl,” he shot back with a look of admiration in his eyes.

“She’s not for you, Mase,” Daryl was quick to point out. “Don’t even think about it, Bro.”

“And why’s that?” Mase shot back with a smirk. “Thinking of tryna steal her away for yourself, King?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Daryl replied with a knowing smile. “I’m not that fucking stupid.”

“Beer?” Reebo offered then, thrusting a bottle into my hands. “Drink up, gorgeous,” he added, cracking the cap off for me.

“Uh…thanks.” I was actually sort of glad. I was out of my depth with these boys. Placing the bottle to my lips, I drink deeply, enjoying the buzz I felt every time I swallowed another mouthful. The moment I was finished, I was handed another by Reebo. “Thanks,” I said with a genuine smile. I had a feeling I was going to like this one. He was big and strong and fed me alcohol. He also reminded me of a gigantic teddy bear – a really sexy one. What could be better?

“So where is your stepbrother?” Mason asked with a teasing hint in his tone.

“In his room,” I muttered before taking another sip. “Or so I heard.” I forced back a shudder at the memory.

“He’s banging someone?” Mason looked surprised. “Damn. Didn’t know Britt was invited.”

“Yeah,” Bear added, speaking for the first time, brows furrowed. “Saw her come in earlier. Didn’t release he was messing around with her again.”

“Bad fucking move,” Mase muttered solemnly. “Bad fucking pussy.”

I will not ask. I will not ask. I will not… “Who’s Britt?” Dammit! I already knew the answer to this – Britt was a bitch – but I wanted to know more. No, I needed to.

Reebo was the one to answer my question. “She’s bad news, baby girl, and real bad fucking news for your stepbrother.”

I opened my mouth to ask why, but the sound of Rourke’s voice behind me caused me to quickly close it again.

“What’s she doing here?” He was close to me – so close I could feel him brush against my back. “Daryl?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Forcing myself not to shiver at the contact, I turned around. “I’m talking to your friends.” My grin widened. “Lovely guys.”

Rourke narrowed his eyes. “What game are you playing, Six?”

None. “One you won’t win,” I shot back, eyes locked on his. “Finished with your condom already?” I cocked a brow. “I’m disappointed, Rourke.” Shrugging, I added, “I thought you’d last longer than ten minutes.”

“Do you think you’re cute?” He prowled towards me, his expression hard, eyes dark and heated. Instinctively, I took a step away from Rourke and the anger emanating from him.

“Rourke…” Daryl started as he moved to step between us.

“Stay the hell out of this, D,” Rourke hissed, swatting his hand away, his attention locked on me. He didn’t stop walking until he was flush against me. “Standing around here with your tits on full display and flirting with my goddamn teammates?”

Steeling my spine, I looked up at the broody prick who had been making my life a living hell and hissed, “I wasn’t flirting with anyone and my tits are not on display, asshole.”

“I can see your nipples,” he shot back angrily, caging me in with his huge frame. “Poking out from under that piece of cloth you call a shirt.”

“Fuck you, Rourke,” I spat about two seconds before my back hit the wall behind me.

“Damn fucking straight, ”he snarled, stepping into my personal space.

What?”

“Don’t even think about fucking my teammates, Six.” He pinned me to the wall, surrounding me with his huge frame. “I aint messing around here, girl.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Rourke,” I breathed, heart hammering in my chest, as I stared into his furious, beautiful face.

“You’re not for them, Six.” His breath fanned my skin and he lowered his face to mine so that we were eye to eye. “So, say goodnight to the boys and walk your pussy back up that staircase – where it’s safe.” He stared hard at me for a long moment before abruptly turning around and walking back to his friends.

If Rourke expected me to react like every other girl in Ocean Bay who obviously fell over him and did as he asked then he was going to be disappointed.

Bastard.

Throwing back what was left of my beer, I walked straight over to where he was standing with his friends. Grabbing the guy closest to me, which just so happened to be Mason, I bunched his shirt in my fist and dragged his face down to mine.

The moment our lips met, Mason’s arms came around me, his lips controlling the kiss with his obvious experience. Ignoring the sound of cheering and wolf whistling around me, I allowed Mason to kiss me deeply and I did it with my eyes locked on Rourke’s furious expression the entire time.

“No one tells me what to do,” I said, panting, when I broke the kiss, eyes still locked on my stepbrother. “You got that?” I wasn’t sure what I was expecting him to do, but clapping certainly wasn’t one of them.

“Thank you,” Rourke hissed. “For proving to me you are every inch your mother’s daughter.” Lifting a hand, he gestured towards Mason. “You wanna fuck him, Six? Go for it. In fact, fuck the whole damn team while you’re at it. I’m out.”

“You’re out?” I gaped at him. When was he in? “You’re crazy, Rourke.”

Rourke didn’t answer me.

He just turned and walked off.

“Ignore him,” Daryl said, coming to stand beside me as we watched Rourke stalk out. “Boy’s got issues.”

“Yeah,” I choked out. I was beginning to gather that.