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

Cruel Intentions: Chapter 6



Noah

Ifucked up.

Completely, catastrophically fucked up.

That kiss with Tia this morning? Yeah, the one I thought would mean nothing. Now it’s all over the school, spreading like wildfire. And the worst part? I only did it because seeing Aubrey coming my way nearly broke me. My brain short-circuited, like I didn’t know how to breathe, let alone think straight.

Why the fuck is her being back here screwing with my head so much? She’s everywhere—under my skin, in my head—and I hate it. I hate that she’s still everything.

When I woke up this morning, rock-hard and aching, it wasn’t just lust—it was her. Aubrey.

Every goddamn detail burned into my brain: her long legs I can’t stop picturing wrapped around me, her perfect lips I want to ruin with mine, her laugh, her everything. The whole fucking package. It’s like a sickness, something I can’t shake, no matter how hard I try.

After I took care of my raging boner, I was pissed.

Pissed because even after all this time, all the heartbreak, I still want her. Still crave the feeling of her falling apart in my arms. Her screams, her moans, the way she used to come undone on my cock, my tongue, my fingers—fuck, anything I could give her. It’s all burned into me like a brand I can’t erase.

My body aches for her like it’s some kind of cruel addiction. For the girl who destroyed me. Who shattered my heart into a million pieces and didn’t look back. It’s pathetic. I know it is. But that doesn’t make it stop.

So yeah, when I saw her this morning, I panicked. I kissed Tia like a fucking idiot, thinking maybe it’d make the ache go away. Maybe it’d make me forget—just for a second—that she’s still under my skin. But it didn’t. It never does. Because no one else will ever be her.

And that’s what fucking kills me. It’s always her. It’s always going to be her. The way she smiles, the way she looks at me like I’m the only one who’s ever mattered. Even when she’s breaking me, she’s the only one. And I fucking hate it.

That kiss with Tia? I only did it to show Aubrey I’m over her—to prove to myself I’ve moved on, even if my goddamn body hasn’t gotten the memo. But now?

Now Tia thinks it was some kind of declaration, like I’m all in on whatever the hell this is supposed to be between us. And the fallout? It’s a fucking disaster.

I’ve made a mess of everything, and I have no clue how to fix it. How to untangle myself from this without making things worse.

When she grabbed my hand to walk into school this morning, I yanked it back, told her to fuck off, told her it didn’t mean shit.

But she didn’t flinch—just smiled at me, calm and smug, like she knew something I didn’t. “It’s fine,” she said, like my words were a joke. “It’s cute that you’re embarrassed about what you did.”

I wanted to scream at her, tell her she had it all wrong, that this wasn’t some fucking game. But she just kept smiling, like we were in on this together, like the kiss wasn’t the stupid, heat-of-the-moment mistake it actually was.

And that look? That smug, knowing look? It told me she still didn’t get it. Or maybe she didn’t want to.

But shit’s only gotten worse. The rumors are flying, whispers in every hallway, and now Tia’s strutting around like we’re the new school power couple.

She’s lapping it up, basking in the attention, while I’m here trying to figure out how the fuck to get out of this mess.

And Aubrey?

God, I can’t even let myself think about her without feeling like I’m about to come apart at the seams. Every time her name crosses my mind, it’s like a gut punch—a reminder that no matter how hard I try to play it cool, I haven’t moved on.

This whole thing has spiraled out of control, worse than I ever could’ve imagined. And the worst part… I did this to myself. All of it. For what? To prove something to Aubrey? To make her think I’m over her when I’m clearly not. Now I’m stuck in this chaos, and there’s no way to fix it.

What the fuck was I thinking?

And as if my mood couldn’t get any worse, I walked into the classroom and heard that fuckhead Blane running his mouth, loud enough for everyone to hear. Asking Aubrey if she’d let him and two other dickheads from the football team bang her at once. My blood fucking boiled. Those same idiots who should know by now that she’s off-limits. That I don’t give a shit about the rumors, about what they think—Aubrey isn’t someone you drag into pathetic bullshit. And where the hell is Lucas Simpson? He was supposed to set them straight.

What the fuck is wrong with these assholes? It’s like they’re begging for me to lose it, and I’m this close.

My anger hit me like a freight train, and I had to clench my fists, my knuckles white from the effort it took not to march over there and beat the shit out of him in front of everyone. Just the thought of him talking about her like that had me seeing red, my pulse pounding in my ears. I wanted to shut him up, make him regret every fucking word that left his mouth.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t let myself lose it, because if I did—if I let my emotions slip for even a second—she’d know. Aubrey would know I still love her. And that’s a weakness I can’t afford to let her see.

So, I forced myself to sit there, biting back the urge to snap, while my jaw ached from grinding my teeth.

I’ll deal with those assholes later. I’ll deal with Blane and his bullshit in my own way, on my own terms. But for now, I have to let it slide, even though it feels like swallowing glass. Because as much as I hate it, as much as it burns me alive to sit still, pretending not to care is the only way to survive her. To survive the wreckage she left behind.

After what feels like the longest hour of my life, the bell rings, and I’m out of that classroom like my ass is on fire. Behind me, I hear Tia calling my name, her voice all sweet and demanding, like she’s got some right to summon me, like I’m her damn property.

I stop dead in my tracks, waiting for her to catch up. This shit needs to end. I need to shut this down—shut her the fuck down—before it spirals any further.

She finally reaches me, all confident and smug, and yeah, I can’t deny it—Tia’s hot as hell. But that’s all she’s got going for her. She’s not my type. Not even close. She’s spoiled and opinionated, wrapped up in this bubble of privilege that keeps her cushioned from the real world. She’s never known struggle, never faced anything that could leave scars. And that shit just doesn’t sit right with me. It’s not real, and it never will be.

Not like Aubrey.

Fuck. There it is again. Her name. Her face. The way she’s always in my head, no matter how hard I try to shove her out.

Tia’s standing in front of me, but all I can think about is Aubrey. All I can see is her strength, her fire, the way she’s fought through hell and come out on the other side. She’s everything real, everything raw.

Tia’s just a distraction, a way to fill the empty space left by someone I can’t let go of. But it doesn’t matter, because as much as I try Aubrey is the one who owns my heart, and nothing Tia does will change that.

“Hey, handsome,” Tia purrs, stopping beside me, all sweetness and fake innocence. Her hand reaches for mine.

I yank my arm back, fast and sharp, like her touch has the plague. I can see it on her face—she wasn’t expecting that. But I don’t care. I’m done pretending, done letting this bullshit go any further.

“We need to talk,” I say, my voice sharp, no room for argument. No softening the blow. “I fucked up. Meet me in the gym in five.”

I don’t have the time or the patience for a scene. If I do this here, in front of everyone, it’ll explode, and the last thing I need is for this shit to go viral.

Tia’s face falls, and I catch the flicker of hurt in her eyes. But I don’t give a damn. I’m done with her bullshit. She’s not my problem, and I’m not going to pretend I care about whatever the fuck she’s feeling right now.

She knows what’s coming. I can see it in her eyes—she’s figured it out. I don’t care if it fucks with her head, if she’s pissed or upset. I’m not here to soften the blow. She needs to understand that whatever this was, it’s over. Done. No second chances. No confusion. It’s finished.

I turn and walk away, leaving her standing there, frozen in the corridor.

In the gym, I throw on my gym clothes, then take a seat on the bench. Tia still hasn’t shown up. The guys are nowhere in sight—thank God. Class doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, but she’s still not here.

I wanted to get this shit out of the way without any witnesses. My fingers tap on the bench, irritation clawing at me. Time crawls by, and I’m fucking done waiting.

I pull out my phone, my eyes landing on a message from my dad.

Dad: Your mom just called and asked if she could see you this afternoon.

I stare at the screen, the knot in my stomach tightening. What the fuck does she want?

I’ve ignored my dad’s message all morning because there’s no way I’m ready to see that woman who bailed on me years ago. Fuck her and her perfect fucking family. I couldn’t care less about being some afterthought in her shiny new life, especially when she never loved me the way a mother should.

I’m lost in my thoughts, mind racing with anger and confusion, completely unaware of anything around me. It isn’t until a sharp whistle cuts through the air that I snap out of it. My gaze shifts, and that’s when I see her—Aubrey, standing by the volleyball net, surrounded by a few of the other girls on her team.

I should’ve known she’d be back on the team. Volleyball’s always been her thing, something she’s never given up on. She’s good at it—always has been. And the fact that Tia and her crew couldn’t give two shits about the sport, just makes it all the easier for Aubrey to dominate.

I can’t tear my eyes away from Aubrey. My gaze burns as it drifts to those tight-ass shorts hugging her perfect ass. My cock stirs, and I can’t stop myself from imagining grabbing that ass, fucking her hard while she screams my name. The thought alone makes me hard, my body betraying me, lost in these filthy, desperate fantasies.

I’m so wrapped up in it, I don’t even notice Tia approaching until her hand touches mine.

My whole body jerks at the contact. The heat between my legs fades instantly, my dick almost shriveling up as I turn to face her.

‘Don’t fucking touch me,’ I growl, my voice cold, pissed off.

‘What?’ she snaps, irritation flashing across her face. “You had no problem out in that parking lot this morning.”

I can feel the storm brewing, the tension hanging between us like a thunderstorm on the brink of breaking. I brace myself, knowing full well that once I spill my guts to Tia, she’s going to explode.

She’s always been a firestorm, a goddamn handful, and I’ve kept her at arm’s length for a reason—because I know better than to get too close. But this? This shit needs to be said.

‘I need to talk about what happened this morning,’ I say, locking eyes with her.

‘Yeah?’ she replies, her voice sharp, challenging.

“Tia, I need to be straight with you.” I don’t waste time softening it. “That kiss this morning… it was a mistake. Didn’t mean shit. I only did it to piss someone else off.”

The second the words leave my mouth; I see her face go from disbelief to hurt. Honestly, I couldn’t care less.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She snaps, her voice sharp with hurt, loud enough to make everyone around us notice.

“Tia,” I start to say, but she cuts me off before I can get another word out.

Jace and Reece start to approach, but they stop dead when they hear Tia’s voice explode.

“Don’t even bother,” she spits. “You think I’m that fucking stupid not to know this has everything to do with her? Oh my god, what the fuck was I thinking? You asshole. You think you can just fuck with people’s feelings and get away with it?”

I don’t flinch. I don’t care. But fuck, her words sting.

Her jaw tightens, and for a second, I think she’s going to explode again, but then—just like that—she pivots on her heels and storms off, leaving me alone to face the shitstorm of every eye in the room on me.

Jace and Reece stride over with their usual grins, seemingly unconcerned, and plop down beside me on the bench without a word. They know how Tia is—always making a scene. I sit there, stewing in my own damn stupidity, cursing myself for getting caught up in the mess with her.

Reece nudges my shoe with his foot, giving me some kind of silent warning, and I glance up, irritated.

Aubrey’s approaching, her frown already twisting her face into that pissed-off expression she wears.

Great. Just what I need—another fucking headache right now.

I take a slow breath, forcing my heart to settle, trying to look like I don’t care as I watch her. I hold her gaze, hoping that if I stare long enough, she’ll just turn around and leave me the hell alone.

I let my gaze sweep over her, not even trying to hide that I’m checking her out. My eyes trace the curve of her body before deliberately landing on her tits.

She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink, like it doesn’t bother her at all—which, honestly, just makes it more entertaining. I’ve got to hand it to her; she’s got nerve.

She stops in front of me, her stance strong, like she knows she has something to prove.

“Can we talk?” she asks, her voice steady.

I smirk, leaning back with an unshakable, cocky grin. Tilting my head slightly, I let my tongue glide over my bottom lip, and I catch the way her eyes track the motion.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say, my tone smooth and dismissive, like she’s barely worth my attention. Then, with a smirk that stretches wider, I add, “But if you’ve got something else in mind for that mouth, I’m all ears.”

Jace lets out a quiet chuckle beside me.

She steps closer, her irritation burning in her eyes, and my heart pounds hard against my ribs as she bridges the space between us. When she grabs my hand, it’s not soft or hesitant—it’s a firm, commanding pull that drags me straight into her gravity.

The instant her skin meets mine, it’s like a jolt of electricity shoots through me, tearing apart every shred of control I thought I had. My thoughts spiral, wild and chaotic, like I’m caught in a storm I can’t escape. And it kills me—how she still has this power over me, like nothing’s changed, like I’m still her puppet, tangled in her strings.

She pulls me into the equipment room, and the moment she lets go of my hand, a tidal wave of sensation crashes over me—sharp, jarring, impossible to ignore. My mind snaps back into focus, but it does nothing to steady me.

Not even when she turns away, moving away from me in this cramped space. I can’t stop myself. My thoughts spiral, dark and raw, consumed by the image of pressing my chest against her back, my lips trailing along the curve of her neck as I fuck her from behind. The way I want to ravish her has me on edge, every part of me burning to claim her.

‘Why are you doing this?’ she asks, finally turning to face me. Her voice is quiet, but it slices through me, carrying a blend of frustration and something else I can’t quite name.

I force the emotions down, burying them deep where they can’t touch me anymore. None of it matters now—not after she made her fucking choice.

‘Doing what?’

‘Come on, Noah. You know exactly what I’m talking about.’ Her eyes meet mine, a storm of memories swirling within them—joy and pain intertwined in a way only we could ever understand. I know her too well to miss it, the faint fracture in her composure, the hurt she’s struggling to keep buried.

I straighten, forcing my body to relax, though it’s a losing battle with her this close. I can’t let myself go there—not with her. Not after everything.

Clenching my jaw, I shove down the emotions threatening to surface. ‘So, should I pull out my cock now, or are you volunteering to grab it for me?’ The words drop from my lips, sharp and cold. I want her to feel the sting, to understand exactly where we stand—where she stands. And it’s not beside me anymore.

‘Noah,’ she says, her voice softer now, like she’s trying to break down the walls I’ve spent so long building around myself.

She holds my gaze a moment longer, her eyes heavy with things she won’t say, and it’s unbearable. The tension presses down like a weight I can’t shake, so I break it—blunt, cold, and final. I need to shove her as far away as possible, make her understand exactly where I stand.

‘Look, if I’m not getting my dick sucked, I’m out of here. Your call, sweetheart.’

‘Please, Noah, don’t be like that,’ she says, her voice trembling with a hint of desperation. She steps closer, her fingers brushing against my arm as if trying to anchor me, to pull me back to her.

I shake her hand off, the rejection harsher than I intend, but I can’t stop it. The last thing I need is for her to worm her way back under my skin, to make me care again. I’m scared of losing control, of letting myself fall back into something that can never be what it once was.

‘Don’t fucking touch me,’ I growl.

‘Can we at least try to salvage some sort of friendship after everything we’ve been through?’ she asks, her voice shaky, like she’s clinging to something that isn’t there anymore.

‘Why?’

‘Noah,’ she says softly, and it fucking kills me. I hate the way her voice softens my resolve, like it’s dragging me back to a place I don’t want to go.

I force down the storm of emotions threatening to break free and meet her gaze. ‘Trust me, Aubrey, you don’t want me as your friend anymore. I don’t do friendships with chicks. That shit’s over.’

She shakes her head, her eyes desperate, like she doesn’t want to believe it. ‘You don’t mean that.’

I can feel myself starting to crack, her presence pulling me in, tempting me to just give in and be with her again—to laugh, touch, be how we used to be. But I can’t.

Not after everything.

Deep down, I know she’d leave this town the second she could, and I can’t go through that kind of hurt again. It broke me before; it could fucking destroy me this time.

So, I push forward, moving toward her with purpose, each step deliberate as I draw the line. I make it clear—the only thing she’s getting from me now is my cock. If that’s not what she wants, I’m out.

“Listen, Aubrey,” I say, my voice low and hard, each word a sharp jab as I step forward, pushing her back until she’s trapped against the cold, damp wall. I lean in close, so she can feel the weight of every word. “The only thing I want from you is to slide my cock into your tight pussy and fuck you like I’ve fucked every other girl who meant nothing to me.”

I lift my hand, pressing it against the wall next to her, closing the space between us. The tension hangs heavy in the air.

‘Is that what you want?’ I ask, my voice steady. ‘Because that’s all you’re getting from me.’

Her eyes widen, and she takes a sharp breath, like she’s fighting to keep herself composed.

But when her gaze meets mine, I see it—the impact I have on her. It’s exactly what I wanted. To make her feel something, to make her ache for something she can’t have, just like she did to my heart when she walked away.

Heat surges through me at the closeness of her, my entire body humming with the charged atmosphere between us. I reach out with my free hand, trailing my finger down the center of her chest, then slipping it between her tits.

Her breath hitches, and I can’t help but smirk, feeling the power shift in my favor. I’ve got her exactly where I want her—vulnerable, wanting, but unable to get what she wants from me.

My presence commands her attention, her gaze locking onto mine, and for a split second, I lose myself in the depth of her brown eyes. The connection is undeniable, but I shake myself out of it, focusing on what needs to happen.

Her gaze falls to my lips, and I know we’re both playing this silent game. Her hesitation gives me exactly what I need.

With calculated patience, I wait, watching her breath quicken. And the moment she lets her guard slip just enough, I slam my lips against hers, taking what I’ve been fucking craving.

It’s raw, filthy, and needy. The moment I hear a soft moan escape her lips; a wicked, primal satisfaction floods my senses—I’ve won. I want her to realize exactly what she walked away from. Gone are the days of the inexperienced boy who used to beg for her attention.

I reach out, my fingers skimming across her tit before I grab it, squeezing her nipple hard.

She hisses, that sound is like music to my ears.

My cock throbs, desperate, aching to feel her, to fuck her until she knows just how much I crave it. But I force myself to push those urges down, just long enough to regain control.

I turn her around, pressing her back against me, pressing her up against the wall and I bury my face in her neck, kissing her soft skin, breathing her in.

Her scent is intoxicating, pulling me under, but I can’t let go—not yet. Not until I’ve made her see how fucking much I’ve changed. Just a moment longer, and I’ll make sure she regrets everything.

“I want to touch you. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing to me,” I growl, my lips brushing against her skin, the heat of my breath only making it worse. “Let me touch you… Please,” I whisper, the desperation in my voice raw as I drag my tongue along the curve of her neck.

She shudders, her breath shaky, and when she finally nods, it feels like a victory—a win in this battle between us.

I slide my hand beneath the waistband of her shorts, slipping into her underwear. I run my fingers along her bare pussy and I almost groan. My fingers run through her wetness, feeling how fucking desperate she is, how turned on she is—just as much as I am. Every inch of her screams that she wants me, just like I fucking want her.

I press my hard cock against her ass, the heat between us almost unbearable. My fingers find her clit, teasing, circling with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

She moans, soft and breathless, and tilts her head to the side, offering her neck like a silent plea.

I fight the overwhelming urge to lose myself in the heat of her skin, the way she smells, the way my fingers slip so easily inside her. My mind screams at me to pull back, to walk away before I destroy everything I’ve built. If I stay, I’ll give in—I’ll fuck her, and everything I’ve planned will be for nothing.

She lets out a soft, breathy moan as I kiss her neck, the sound unraveling me. I move quickly, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, my fingers never slowing down. She closes her eyes, lost in pleasure, her body reacting eagerly, and I can feel her getting dangerously close—so fucking close to her orgasm.

“Listen the fuck up, Aubrey,” I growl, my voice dark and heavy with frustration. “This is just a fucking taste of what you gave up when you walked away from me. No matter how much you want it now, know this—you’ll never fucking have it again.”

In an instant, I yank my hand away, a smirk twisting my lips as I silently declare the end of this encounter. I laugh, the sound rough and mocking as I take a step back.

“Too fucking bad, Aubrey. I would’ve loved to watch you come on my fingers and my cock, but you made your choice ages ago.”

Her face flushes with frustration, the desperate ache for release etched across her features. The sight sends a twisted satisfaction coursing through me, knowing I’m the one who’s made her burn like this.

Still smirking, I turn away, refusing to give her the satisfaction of more attention. Let her stand there, tangled in her emotions, while I walk away. If she craves an orgasm, she’ll have to fucking take matters into her own hands. I’m fucking done with her.

I make my way toward the door, adjusting my hard cock before swinging it open and stepping into the bustling gym.

Jace and Reece are still sitting there glued to their phones.

As I walk towards them, the memory of Aubrey pressed up against me messes with my head.

The sensation of my lips on her warm neck, the heat of her body pressing against mine, and the feeling of my fingers exploring her wet pussy—all of it stirs up a storm I can’t shake. My cock is screaming for release, and I need to clear my fucking head. I need to find someone to fuck or just sneak off to the bathroom and jerk off. Anything to get this shit out of my system. I can’t keep losing my shit like this whenever she’s around.


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