Page 90 of Wicked Savage Cruel
He helps me clean his cum from my stomach, but when I move to wipe over my breasts, he stops me. He shakes his head before stealing a kiss, his teeth playfully tugging at my bottom lip.
“I want you wearing my cum,” he says.
I swallow hard, and a shiver of desire works up my spine.
“You’re wicked,” I tell him, but I don’t hate the idea.
He smirks. “You have no idea.”
Savage Devil
One night.
No names.
No numbers.
That is the deal we make.
After tonight, I’ll never see him again, and I want to leave town with zero regrets.
But, a year and a half later, I’m back with a secret I’m terrified to tell.
Turns out the guy from that one reckless night is football royalty. One of Sun Valley’s infamous Devils.
I didn’t tell him I was moving that night.
And, he isn’t someone who handles rejection well.
Something I realize when I bump into him at my new school. Sun Valley High. Home of the Devils.
And he decides to give me a lesson in why you never cross a Devil.
Bibiana: The Summer Before Junior Year
“Come on, Bibi!” Monique whines before adding a coat of clear gloss over her full lips. “We’re going to be late for the party. The one you insisted we go to tonight,”she reminds me now as she toys with her hair. The dark brown box braids hang just past her shoulders. She glowers at me through the reflection in the mirror.
“I have nothing to wear!” Yes, now I’m whining, but sifting through my closet for something sexy—or, at the very least, something that doesn’t scream “I go to a stuck-up private school”—is next to impossible. And being a Suncrest Saint—even if past tense—isn’t something you advertise when mingling with the Sun Valley Devils. With any luck, we won’t run into any of the true Devils tonight. That would cause all sorts of problems, especially since Monique’s brother happens to be one of them.
He was in a car accident last week and is home recovering, so we should be in the clear. At least, I hope.
“Obviously.” Monique reaches into her overnight bag. “That’s why I brought you this.” She pulls out a sleek, black, bodycon dress and tosses it my way.
I catch it and hold up the barely there dress, an immediate scowl on my face. “No way. I can’t wear that,” I tell her with a firm shake of my head.
Hand on her hip, she turns to me. “And why the hell not?”
“Because half the dress is missing, that’s why,” I hiss, careful to keep my voice down as I give the dress another once-over. Mom and her boyfriend—Miguel—are already in bed, and I don’t want to wake either of them. Going out tonight isn’t exactly approved. But you know the saying, “better to ask forgiveness than permission.” Better yet, if Mom doesn’t find out, then there’s nothing to forgive in the first place.
In my hands, the dress looks no bigger than a t-shirt. A child-sized t-shirt. Yeah, no way am I wearing this.
Monique huffs out a breath. “At least try it on. What happened to you wanting to step out of your comfort zone today, huh? Weren’t you the one who said you wanted to do something daring? Live on the edge?” Her brows lift in an expectant expression. “It’s your last night in Sun Valley, Bibi.”
Urgh, please don’t remind me. “That doesn’t mean I want to go out looking like a dime-store hooker,” I tell her with a huff as a wave of sorrow crashes into me. Tonight is my last night in Sun Valley. Tomorrow, I’m moving. New town. New school. New life. In Richland, of all places. It sucks.
She rolls her eyes before turning away to finish her makeup in the full-length mirror that hangs from the back of my bedroom door. “Do I look like a dime-store hooker to you?” she asks over her shoulder.
“Obviously not,” I snort. Monique is a goddess. Five-foot-eleven with rich brown skin, chestnut-colored eyes, and long braids pulled back into a half pony. She looks like Brandy Norwood from her Moesha days and I would kill to look half as good as she does. Her skin is flawless, and unlike me, she’s managed to acquire curves in all the right places. I, on the other hand, am reed thin and straight as a bean pole. Mom swears I’ll fill out eventually, but I doubt it. Not with my luck. At least I have boobs. Not much, but they’re there.
