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

The soft morning light seeps through the edges of the curtain, casting a muted glow that blurs my vision as I blink awake. For a moment, disorientation grips me, and I don’t recognize where I am.

Then I feel it: the warmth of an arm draped tightly around my waist. Noah’s arm. His scent surrounds me, a mix of soap and something distinctly him, pulling me back to reality.

Last night floods my mind in vivid, merciless detail—the cold tile against me, the desperate way he fucked me, the raw hunger in his eyes that ignited something wild inside me. I swore I’d never let myself go there again, especially not with Noah—the guy who moves from girl to girl like it’s a game. Those two at the party? Their laughter, their hands on him, are still burned into my mind like an open wound.

What the hell was I thinking?

But I know. I needed to feel something—anything—to silence the aching void clawing at my chest. To escape the suffocating weight of feeling discarded, unloved, and utterly alone. Noah was my lifeline in that moment, and I grabbed onto him like I was drowning.

I shouldn’t have let it happen, but I can’t bring myself to regret it. For one fleeting moment, he made me feel like I wasn’t so invisible.

I shift slightly, trying to slip free of his grasp, but his arm tightens instinctively, holding me in place.

He’s spooning me, his warm breath brushing against the nape of my neck, his chest firm against my back. And then there’s his cock—hard and insistent—pressing against me like it has a mind of its own.

My breath hitches, and my traitorous body flares with a spark of desire I wish I didn’t feel.

I close my eyes, forcing myself to remember who Noah is. He’s the guy who fucks and forgets, the one who never sticks around long enough for it to mean something.

I try again, inching away carefully, but his arm pulls me back, his grip firm and possessive. His face burrows deeper into the crook of my neck, his stubble scraping against my skin in a way that’s almost too intimate.

Is he awake? I don’t know, but I stay frozen, my chest tight and my mind spiraling.

The sharp and relentless sound of my dad’s voice echoes in my mind, his words like shards of glass lodged in my chest. There’s a stupid, desperate part of me clinging to the hope that maybe it was all a mistake. That maybe he didn’t mean it, that locking me out was some kind of accident. But deep down, I know better. I know he meant every single word. The truth sits heavy and cold, a weight I can’t seem to carry or let go.

And now, lying here, everything starts to crash down at once.

My mind spirals as I think of all the things I need—my clothes, my toiletries, my fucking birth control.

That last one hits me, dragging me back to last night. Noah. The way I let him fuck me without a condom, like the reckless, desperate idiot I am.

He’s been with half the girls in this town, and now I’ve got to add “getting tested” to my ever-growing list of problems.

And if my dad really kicked me out for good? I’m royally screwed. My mom? She won’t even pick up the phone, let alone offer any help.

‘Stop thinking so goddamn much,’ Noah’s voice cuts through the storm in my head, low and rough, warm against my neck. His lips brush my shoulder, soft and teasing, and it only makes my chest ache more.

I should push him away, should tell him to back the hell off, but I don’t. Instead, his touch feels like the only thing keeping me from completely unraveling.

“We’ll figure it out,” he murmurs, his tone steady like he actually believes it. “We’ll go see your dad, get to the bottom of it, and come up with a plan.”

The weight of his arm disappears from my waist as he pulls away, and the loss is instant. Like I’ve been untethered. He rolls onto his back, the sheets rustling around us, and I wait for it—that moment when he snaps back into the cocky, indifferent asshole. The fragile truce of the night already feels like it’s slipping through my fingers.

Noah sits up, the covers sliding down to his waist. My eyes betray me, roaming over him despite my better judgment. Every line, every muscle, every inch of him is a temptation I don’t need right now.

He drags a hand through his messy hair, letting out a long, tired breath. For a fleeting second, I wonder—am I too much for him?

A burden, just like everyone else says I am. My dad. My mom. They’ve made it clear enough. Why should Noah be any different? Especially now, when whatever we used to have has been reduced to broken pieces.

I shove the covers off and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, determined to escape the awkward limbo I’m stuck in. My eyes dart around the room, searching for my clothes. I know they’re still damp—I should’ve hung them up to dry last night, but I didn’t. Doesn’t matter. Wet or not, I’ll throw them on if it means getting the fuck out of here.

I feel his gaze on me, heavy and unrelenting, but I refuse to look at him. Instead, I keep moving, my frustration bubbling over when I can’t find my clothes.

“Where the hell are my clothes?” I snap, finally glancing at him.

He stretches, unbothered. “They’re in the dryer,” he says casually, his voice calm, like we’re discussing the weather.

For a moment, I’m frozen, distracted by the way he moves—effortless, like he knows exactly how good he looks. His body is a masterpiece of lean muscle and effortless sex appeal, his boxers riding low on his hips. And then there it is, the unmistakable outline of his cock, hard and unapologetic beneath the fabric. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I force my eyes upward, only to meet his smug, shit-eating grin.

“See something you like?” he teases, his tone laced with that infuriating cockiness that makes me want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.

With deliberate intent, his hand slides down, and he strokes himself, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. His dark eyes lock onto mine, steady and unwavering.

“Feel free to take whatever you want from me, Aub,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, dripping with a confidence that makes my pulse race. That nickname—it cuts deeper than I want to admit, stirring memories of a time when everything between us felt easy, simple, safe.

Now? It’s anything but.

The sight of him, the sound of his voice—it’s too much. My body’s betraying me, heat pooling low in my stomach even as my mind screams at me to leave, to get the hell out before I lose the last shred of control I have. I know exactly where this is headed if I don’t get the fuck out now. In minutes, I’ll be under him, over him, tangled in him, and when it’s over, I’ll hate myself for letting it happen. Again.

It takes every ounce of will power to turn away. My legs feel shaky, but I force myself to move, heading for the door. My hand wraps around the handle, and with a sharp yank, I’m out, striding down the hallway toward the laundry room like I know what I’m doing—like I’m not about to fall apart completely.

Every creak in the floorboards, every familiar corner of this house is a reminder of who we used to be. Back when Noah wasn’t this cocky, infuriating asshole.

The soft thud of footsteps behind me sends my heart racing.

Noah. Shit.

I can’t let him close the distance. If he touches me—if he so much as brushes his fingers against me—I’ll crumble. I can already feel it, the inevitability of losing myself in him, the way he’s always been able to pull me under without even trying.

I rehearse my plan like a mantra: grab my clothes, leave this house, and deal with my dad. It’s Saturday—he’ll be home. Maybe I can convince him to let me stay, at least for a little while. I don’t have another option. Not when my mom won’t even answer her damn phone.

Noah’s hand closes around my arm, stopping me mid-stride. His grip is firm but careful, steady in a way that makes me want to lean into him even though I know I shouldn’t.

“Don’t pull that shit, Aub,” he says, his voice rough but not cruel. There’s an edge of vulnerability in it, something unspoken that twists my stomach. The way he says my name—it’s like he’s reaching for the parts of me I’ve tried to lock away.

“What shit?” I snap, yanking my arm back, though his touch lingers like a ghost.

“Shutting yourself off,” he replies, his tone softening just enough to throw me off balance. “I want the truce to hold. I can’t fucking stand it when we fight. Just—” He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “Just tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, because I’m not a fucking mind reader. I need to know what’s happening with you.”

For a moment, I’m caught off guard. The sincerity in his voice cuts through me, cracking the barriers I’ve fought so hard to keep intact. But I can’t give him what he wants—I can’t let him in. Not now, when everything in my fucked-up life is turning to shit.

“I just need to see what’s going on with my dad,” I say, the lie leaving my lips clipped and hollow. My jaw tightens until it aches, but I keep my chin high, determined not to let him see how close I am to falling apart.

But Noah sees everything. The way his eyes pierce through my defenses makes it harder to keep standing, harder to pretend like I’m okay.

He steps closer, shrinking the space between us until the heat from his body feels like it’s burning straight through me.

I stare at his chest, refusing to meet his gaze, because if I do, I know I’ll shatter. He’ll see everything I’ve been trying to hide—all the cracks in the armor I’ve barely managed to hold together.

Noah doesn’t let me hide. He never has. His fingers slip under my chin, firm but gentle, tilting my face up until I have no choice but to meet his eyes.

That look—intense, unrelenting—makes my breath catch, and I feel the sting of tears threatening to spill. Shit. The last thing I want is to break in front of him, to let him see how much this is fucking killing me.

I swallow hard, trying to shove everything back down where it belongs, but his thumb brushes over my cheek. His touch is a cruel reminder of everything I’ve been trying to forget, of everything I’ve buried so deep it’s suffocating.

“Let me help you,” he says, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I’ll come with you to see what’s going on with your dad.”

“No, Noah,” I snap, sharper than I intend. I need distance. I need space. “I don’t need your help with this. I can handle it myself.”

He shakes his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “I know you can, Aub. You’ve always been strong as hell. But I don’t give a damn what you say—I’m going with you, whether you like it or not. You can’t keep shutting me out.”

I flinch at his words, my chest tightening with anger and hurt. “I never shut you out, Noah,” I fire back, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound strong. “It was you who didn’t want anything to do with me. You’re the one who pushed me away.”

“Because you fucking left me,” he says, his voice breaking on the last word.

I hate him. I hate how beautiful he looks when he’s this raw, this wrecked. But mostly, I hate that I still fucking love him.

The space between us vanishes entirely, and I’m suddenly hyper-aware of how close we are—his body just barely brushing mine.

He leans in, his lips brushing against mine in a kiss so soft, so gentle, it shouldn’t destroy me—but it does. It’s tender, a fleeting echo of the Noah who used to be kind.

“I’m coming with you to see your father, Aub. So stop talking about doing it alone, because that shit ain’t happening,” he says, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. His fingers release my chin as he steps back just enough to give me air, though his eyes never leave mine.

He sees it—the way he’s unraveling me. And the bastard smirks, that infuriating cocky grin that makes my pulse race even as it infuriates me.

His hand moves deliberately, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

The simple gesture shouldn’t affect me, but the light graze of his fingers against my skin sends a shiver racing down my spine. I hate how my body betrays me, leaning into his touch.

His smirk deepens, shifting into something predatory, like he knows exactly what he’s doing—and that I’m powerless to stop it.

“Noah,” I whisper, my voice trembling. I want to tell him to stop, to step back before I lose the last shred of control I’m clinging to. But the words die in my throat, swallowed by the weight of the moment.

Before I can think, he closes the gap between us, his lips crashing into mine with a force that steals my breath away. This kiss is nothing like the first—it’s hot, hungry, desperate. One hand cups my face, tilting it to deepen the kiss, while the other grips my hip with bruising intensity, steering me backward until the cold edge of the dryer digs into my lower back.

His body pins me in place, his hard cock pressing against me in a way that’s impossible to ignore.

Memories of last night in the shower flash through my mind—how he unraveled me, how he fucked me like he had something to prove. The kiss deepens until I’m dizzy, drowning in him.

I kiss him back, letting myself get lost in the chaos of him.

Without breaking the kiss, he grips my thighs and hauls my ass onto the dryer, his hands possessive as they find their place on my hips. “You can’t imagine all the fucking things I want to do to you,” he growls, his voice rough and dripping with intent. “I want to touch every inch of you. With my tongue, my fingers, my cock—fuck, especially my cock.”

He wedges himself between my thighs, spreading them wide, and yanks me to the edge of the dryer until I’m flush against him. The thick, unrelenting length of his cock grinds against my soaked pussy, and the friction draws a gasp from my lips. Every nerve in my body is alight, the hard press of him sending a shiver straight to my core.

His eyes—dark, wild, and filled with heat—lock on mine, daring me to push him away. But I can’t. I don’t want to.

“You’re killing me,” he growls, his voice dropping to a rough whisper that vibrates against my skin as he buries his face in the curve of my neck. “Fuck you don’t even know what you do to me, Aub. I want to make you come so fucking hard you’ll forget your own name.”

My breath hitches as his lips find the sensitive spot just below my ear, kissing and grazing it with his teeth. Each nip sends electricity through my veins, and I can’t stop the shudder that wracks my body.

“You want me,” he rasps. His fingers slide higher, brushing over my clit just enough to draw a sharp gasp from my lips. “I can feel it. You’re fucking soaked for me.” His lips curve into a cocky grin against my neck, and I shiver as he runs his thumb teasingly through my folds. “Tell me you want it, Aub. Tell me you want me to fuck you. Say it.’

“Yes,” I breathe, the word trembling on the edge of a moan, raw and full of need. “Ruin me. Fuck me as if I was yours.”

His mouth claims mine, the kiss desperate and consuming. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling hard enough to draw a hiss from deep within his throat. His hands roam, unrestrained and hungry, their grip leaving a burning trail in their wake.

He strips off my shirt in one swift motion, casting it aside like it’s the only thing standing between him and salvation.

His eyes zero in on my tits like he’s a starving man, and I’m the feast he’s been waiting for. The flick of his tongue wetting his bottom lip, the raw and restrained expression, tells me his holding back, and it makes me ache to know why.

His eyes darken as they rake over me. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “Absolutely stunning.”

The way he says it—it’s not just words. It’s reverence. And it hits me, breaking through every wall I’ve tried to build.

For a moment, all I can do is stare, caught in the force of his words and the way they feel like the truth.

Then he leans in, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth. The warmth of his tongue against the hardened nipple sends a gasp spilling from my lips.

He groans low, the sound vibrating against my skin as his tongue flicks and teases, his lips closing around me in a way that makes my back arch and my chest rise to meet him.

His hand presses gently on my shoulder, guiding me to lie back. Even as I shift, his mouth remains locked on my nipple, his teeth grazing lightly, just enough to make me gasp again.

‘Later today,’ he says against my skin, his voice a dark, sinful promise, ‘I’m gonna shoot my load all over these perfect tits.’ His words ripple through me, heat pooling low in my belly, and I swear my pussy clenches at the sound of them.

His lips begin a slow, torturous descent, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down my stomach. The scrape of his stubble sends sparks skittering across my nerves, and when his tongue dips into my belly button, I can’t suppress the soft, involuntary moan that escapes me.

He kneels between my legs, his breath warm against my soaked folds. The first press of his lips there makes me squirm, and my hips jerk at the contact.

‘Fuck, I can smell how bad you want me,’ he growls, his voice rough, primal, and unapologetically smug. His tongue traces a slow, torturous path along my folds, teasing, testing, making my body beg for him in ways words can’t capture.

‘Please,’ I whimper, the word breaking on a desperate sob as his tongue continues its relentless teasing, skillfully avoiding the one spot I’m aching for him to claim. My hips jerk, seeking relief, but he just chuckles, the sound low and dark, sending vibrations through my core. His hands grip my thighs firmly, pinning me down, keeping me at his mercy.

‘Patience, baby,’ he mutters, his lips brushing against my sensitive skin. ‘I’m gonna make you scream for me. Gonna make you fucking beg for it.’

And fuck, I already am.

His tongue flicks out again, barely grazing my clit, and a strangled cry escapes my lips. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling tight, every fiber of my being demanding more. It takes every ounce of restraint I have not to shove his face exactly where I need it, to grind against his tongue until the unbearable ache inside me shatters.

‘Tell me what you want, Aub,’ he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement, dark and taunting. His tongue drags another slow, devastating lick over my clit, the flick at the end pulling an uncontrollable jerk from my hips.

‘I want that,’ I gasp, my voice trembling, breathless, my need consuming me.

He does it again, slower this time, his tongue circling my clit with precision that borders on cruel. My entire body trembles, each nerve alight with unbearable anticipation.

My grip tightens in his hair, and I yank his face up just enough to meet his gaze.

His lips glisten with me, the cocky smirk playing on them both infuriating and devastatingly hot.

‘You know what I fucking need, Noah,’ I growl, my voice raw and demanding, every ounce of restraint gone. ‘Now stop fucking around and give it to me.’

His laugh is a low, wicked rumble, the sound alone almost enough to push me over the edge. ‘So impatient,’ he taunts, his words sharp and playful, but the look in his eyes is something else entirely. Then he’s back, his mouth claiming me with relentless hunger. His tongue presses against my clit with the perfect amount of pressure, obliterating any pretense of teasing.

I lose myself in the rhythm of his tongue, my thighs trembling as he works me with practiced, devastating skill. My grip in his hair eases, my fingers buried there, holding him close as I let go completely. I can’t stop myself from grinding against his face, chasing the pleasure he’s pulling from me, each movement driving me closer to the edge.

He groans against me, the sound filthy and raw, vibrating through me like a pulse. It’s hot as fuck—electric, every flick of his tongue, every press against my clit, driving me higher. I’m unraveling, my body tightening, the release just out of reach but barreling toward me.

He was always good at this—eager, hungry, relentless. But now? Fuck, he’s something else entirely. It’s like he’s been fine-tuning his craft, and the thought of how many others he must’ve practiced on to get these good flashes through my mind. Jealousy flickers, but it’s drowned out by the tidal wave of pleasure.

Noah kisses my pussy with the same filthy hunger he brings to my mouth, his lips devouring me like he’s starving. When he slides a finger inside me, my entire body jolts with pleasure, the sensation sharp and overwhelming. His tongue flicks against my clit in a maddeningly fast rhythm, every stroke deliberate, every movement calculated to drive me insane.

When he adds a second finger, the stretch and fullness draw a gasp from my lips, the sound raw and unrestrained. My mind goes blank, consumed by the sensation building deep inside me. His fingers curl perfectly, hitting a spot that makes me see stars, while his tongue dances against my clit, teasing and tormenting me with relentless precision.

Every thrust, every flick, sends me spiraling higher. My moans spill freely, filling the room with the sound of my pleasure. Each wet, deliberate motion of his tongue ends with a teasing flick that sends shockwaves through me, making my thighs tremble and my breath hitch.

It’s been so long since anyone touched me like this, but the truth is, no one else has ever made me feel this good. Noah’s the only one who knows exactly how to wreck me, and fuck, he’s doing it now.

My fingers tighten in his hair, tugging hard, and I feel his lips curve into a smug smirk against me. He loves this—loves driving me to the brink, pushing me right to the edge, and holding me there.

‘Fuck, Noah,’ I moan, my voice trembling with desperation. His mouth is pure sin, his tongue and fingers working me over like it’s his life’s mission to make me fall apart. He sucks my clit harder, his teeth grazing it just enough to make me shudder. The ache between my legs grows unbearable, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap.

‘That’s it, baby,’ he growls against me, his voice thick with desire. He pauses just long enough to glance up at me, his grin wicked. ‘I want you to come in my mouth, Aub. Then I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll still feel me tomorrow. Right here on this dryer, like no one’s ever fucked you before.’

The filthy promise in his words sends my body clenching, my pulse pounding in my ears. The heat in my core coils tighter, ready to snap. He dives back in, sucking my clit with renewed intensity, his fingers curling inside me, stroking that perfect spot. I lose all control, grinding against his mouth, chasing the high I know only he can give me.

‘Come for me, baby,’ he murmurs, his voice dark and commanding between kisses to my soaked pussy. ‘Show me how fucking hot you are when you let go.’

I’m already there. The tension snaps, and my orgasm crashes over me, leaving me gasping and trembling. My body bucks against his mouth, pleasure rolling through me in waves so powerful I can’t breathe. He doesn’t stop—his tongue keeps moving, licking, flicking, dragging out every last tremor of my release.

‘Oh, fuck,’ I gasp, incoherent sounds spilling from my lips as he works me through the aftershocks.

Each soft, gentle lick sends shivers down my spine, my body trembling and oversensitive. He kisses me one last time, tender and filthy all at once, his lips lingering as if he’s claiming me all over again.

A satisfied smile spreads across my face as I catch my breath. No one’s ever wrecked me like Noah—no one ever will.

‘Shit, that was fucking hot,’ he says, his voice thick with satisfaction as he rises to his feet, a wicked grin spreading across his face. His lips glisten with evidence of what he just did, and the sight alone sends another wave of heat coursing through me, making my pulse race.

He leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second. I can taste myself on him—dirty, raw, and so fucking hot. The kiss deepens, his tongue sliding against mine, and it leaves me breathless, dizzy, and desperate for more.

As he presses closer, I feel his cock, hard and straining against the thin fabric of his boxers, nudging insistently at my entrance.

The teasing contact makes me whimper, my body arching toward him, every nerve screaming for him to close the distance.

‘Fuck, Aub,’ he murmurs against my lips, his voice low and wrecked, like he’s barely holding on. ‘You have no idea how much I need to be inside you right now.’