Wicked Needs Page 4

  We were a unit, a team. But then Lo turned up and things started to change. And when Rick discovered the truth about Dad blackmailing Mom and Gentry, buying their complicity in his control over his life, instead of turning to me, he cut me out. After everything I’d done for him, Maverick cast me aside as if the truth didn’t affect me.

  But finding out the truth changed me. Bitterness had taken root in my stomach spreading through me like wildfire. It was like Mom and Dad’s dirty secrets came out, and somehow Maverick was freed. Unshackled from our past. While I was barely managing to stay afloat, drowning in my anger and pain and the bitter sting of betrayal. I’d spent two years keeping Mom’s secret, of protecting her... feeling sorry for her.

  I slammed my hand against the bathroom stall and let out a muffled sob. I wouldn’t cry, I was Macey fucking Prince. If you asked anyone at our school, I ate the tears of weak-willed girls for breakfast. But just because I wouldn’t shed a tear, even one of frustration, didn’t mean I wasn’t hurting. The bleep of my cell phone caught my attention, and I retrieved it from my purse.

  Rick: I’m sorry.

  Kyle: What happened? Rick looks pissed. Do I need to play referee?

  I ignored them both. I should have known my silence would only spur Kyle on.

  Kyle: You can’t hide out in there all night.

  He was right. But I couldn’t go back out there either. My fingers hovered on the screen. I could call Kara, but she would be with the girls and they would want to party, or at least, head to The Shack. I could go home, but then everyone would follow soon enough. I’d heard Gentry suggest drinks at the house later. Or I could call the one person I absolutely shouldn’t call.

  AFTER TEXTING KYLE some excuse that I had to leave, I slipped out of the restaurant and waited around the corner in the shadows, out of sight. It didn’t take long for my cell to start vibrating, but I ignored it. I couldn’t be in there with them, listening to Lo and Maverick talk about their plans for next year. He was my brother, and I loved him, but somewhere along the way our path had forked, and we’d gone in different directions. He’d gotten his happy ending. Got the girl and the future he’d always wanted. He got to escape the hell that was the Stone-Prince household.

  He got to leave and never look back.

  But not me.

  I was stuck in this place, at least until graduation. Every day I had to force down all my anger, bitterness, and betrayal, and pretend things were okay. When the reality was I felt like my life was spiraling out of control, and I had no way of fixing it.

  Headlights caught my attention and when the car slowed down, I stepped out of the shadows. This was a bad idea.

  A really fucking bad idea.

  My whole family was inside and if Maverick or Lo, or even Kyle or Laurie saw me do this, there would be no going back. But maybe that was who I was now. The girl who made bad decision after bad decision.

  The car stopped, but no one got out. When I’d sent the text, part of me expected radio silence. I’d been a bitch last night, walking away from him at Scarefest. I’d never made first contact before tonight. It was new for us. Usually he texted me or found me at a party. But tonight, sitting there with my family, watching them laugh and joke and act as if everything was right with the world, the weight on my chest became almost suffocating. I had to get out of there. I had to escape.

  And he was the person I wanted to come save me.

  The only person.

  That meant something. Something I wasn’t ready to admit or even acknowledge. And now he was waiting, giving me an out. I could walk on by and ignore him, or I could reach out, take the handle and seal my fate.

  Inhaling a shaky breath, I pulled the door open and ducked inside.

  “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you tonight,” he said, giving me an easy smile.

  “Don’t read too much into it.” I dropped my gaze. “I needed out of that sham of a dinner and I didn’t know who else to call.” My eyes slid back to his, half expecting to see hurt there, but as I stared at Devon Lions, his smirk grew wider.

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself to pretend this doesn’t mean something, Princess.”

  “Don’t call me that.” My eyes hardened even if his words softened something inside of me.

  His laughter filled the car as he pulled back onto the road. And although I didn’t want to admit it to him or myself, it filled something else too.

  Chapter 5

  We rode to Devon’s in thick silence. Just being in his car made my skin tingle with anticipation and my heart flutter wildly in my chest.

  And I hated it.

  I hated the effect he had on me. The way my body hummed for his touch.

  I hated him.

  Didn’t I?

  When he finally pulled into his driveway and cut the engine, he looked at me and said, “Want to talk about it?”

  I let out a weary sigh. “Talking is the last thing I want to do, Devon.”

  Talking made this real. It made it something other than a bad decision.

  “Come on, we have the place to ourselves.”

  Of the handful of times I’d been to Devon’s house, I had yet to run into his parents, but I never asked where they were, and he never volunteered the information.

  Talking didn’t usually feature in our late-night hook ups.

  Devon got out and came around to open the door for me, but I didn’t take his hand. His strangled chuckle filled the air as I brushed past him and made my way up the driveway. Devon wasn’t rich like most kids at Wicked Bay High. He lived in a modest stucco house with a small pool and single garage. He drove a beat-up Camaro in need of a paint job, and he looked like someone straight out of an aspiring indie rock band.

  He was the total opposite of me, my family. Not to mention the fact he was also the guy who screwed Lo over to get back at my brother.

  It was because of that fact that there had been a time when Devon Lions repulsed me. Everything he was, everything he stood for, the things he did—he embodied everything I loathed. So yeah, Devon Lions was the last person I should be here with. But somehow, somewhere along the way, he’d become the one good thing—the only good thing—in my life. But we could never be more than this—than drunken bootie calls and secret touches in the shadows.

  My brother hated Devon for what he did to Lo last year at Winter Formal. Even if she’d forgiven him, Rick hadn’t. And he never would. Like me, my brother knew how to hold a grudge, and although he kept the peace for Lo’s sake, I knew Devon was only one strike away from feeling the full wrath of Maverick’s temper. If they ever found out about us, it would look like the ultimate betrayal. And maybe at first, it was a fuck you to them and their happy ending. But it wasn’t about that... not anymore.

  I didn’t really know how to explain it, but Devon had become my person.

  No matter how hard I tried to push him away, to fight the pull between us. No matter how many times I told him we were done, I always seemed to end up right back here.

  How did the famous quote go? My only love sprung from my only hate... It would be romantic, if it wasn’t so tragic.

  “Macey?” Devon stared at me, his brows pinched together. “You good?” He was half in, half out of the door.

  I nodded, inhaling a harsh breath, and followed him inside.

  “So, it’s Lo’s birthday, huh?”

  “Devon.” His name left my lips on a sigh as we made our way into the kitchen. The first time I came here we didn’t make it further than his bedroom.

  “Just making conversation.”

  Conversation about Lo. About the girl he used to have a thing for. Because while Devon used Lo to get back at Maverick, I didn’t doubt he genuinely liked her. She had that effect on people. Without even trying to win them over, everyone liked Lo.

  It was another reason I kept her at arm’s length.

  “You want anything?” Devon’s question pulled me back into the moment. He rummaged in the refrigerator, but I was too busy
staring at the sliver of taut muscle on display, the way his t-shirt rippled over his shoulders, as he leaned inside.

  “Water please.”

  Devon placed a bottle of water, and a soda for himself on the counter, and then raked his eyes down me. “You look...” He swallowed, dragging his thumb back and forth over his bottom lip. “Come here.”

  I moved toward him, frustrated at how easily I obeyed him. How after only a few months, he already knew me better than anyone else.

  The second his hand curved around my neck, the tension in my muscles melted away. His touch was magic, and I wanted more. Craved it like a junkie craved their next hit. But too much of a good thing was dangerous, and I couldn’t afford to fall any deeper under his spell.

  Devon stared at me, his eyes running over my face until they settled on my lips. But I felt his hungry gaze everywhere.

  “Are you going to stare at me all day or are you—”

  He crushed his mouth to mine, pulling me against him. The kiss was explosive. A battle of the wills. Push and pull. His tongue stroking mine, searching every part of my mouth. His hand wound into the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling hard enough to make my skin pinch. But the shivers rolling up my spine were only the good kind.

  “Tell me you want me,” he whispered against my mouth.

  “Never,” I moaned, grinding against him trying to reach the place I needed him most. Not that I’d ever admit it.

  “Say it, Princess. If you want me to itch that scratch, you have to say it.” His other hand slid down to my jeans, pressing against my center, and I gasped.

  “Devon,” it came strangled, somewhere between a warning and a plea.

  His lips trailed hot wet kisses along my jawbone up to the shell of my ear. “Say you want me.”

  “I...” The words were right there on the tip of my tongue. But saying them made them real. And they couldn’t be real.

  They could never be real.

  I couldn’t want Devon Lions. Because wanting someone meant trusting them, meant giving them a piece of yourself, and I vowed to myself I would never do that again.

  Least of all with someone like Devon.

  So, no, I couldn’t say the words. Even if right then in that moment I wanted to scream them from the rooftops.

  “Touch me,” I whispered, rolling my hips into his, twisting my fingers into his shirt.

  “Princess, you need to say— shit, Macey.” He groaned as I popped his button and slipped my hand into his jeans, palming his already hard dick.

  “I don’t want to talk, Devon. I just want to feel. Can you help me with that or should I go find someone who can?” It was a bitch thing to say, but I wasn’t in the mood for games.

  His eyes narrowed on me, and I knew he was trying to figure me out. But I wasn’t a puzzle looking to be solved. Not tonight.

  Not ever.

  “Strip.” He smirked, taking a step back to give me space. The instant loss of his body against mine left me cold.

  And I wanted it back.

  “You first.” I arched my brow, folding my arms over my chest.

  Devon’s shoulders shook with laughter as he began to peel off his clothes. When he was standing in nothing but his tight-fitting boxer briefs, he tipped his head. “Your turn.”

  I made a show of pushing the jeans off my hips and unbuttoning the chiffon blouse. I liked the way he looked at me. Hungry. Desperate. Like if he didn’t get to touch and taste me, he might die of thirst right there on the spot.

  Being with Devon made me feel powerful, and I needed that. I needed to feel in control.

  “Jesus, you’re hot,” he said stalking toward me. I inched back until my ass hit the counter. Devon’s hands slid under my thighs and lifted me, depositing me on the cool marble and he stepped in between my legs. “I—”

  My finger shot out and silenced him. “No more talking. Please?”

  “Whatever you say.” His lips hovered above mine and then he kissed me softly. But I didn’t want soft. Soft was safe and nice.

  Soft meant something.

  Devon’s fingers crept up my thighs, gliding over my panties. “Wait,” I gasped. “We should go to your room.”

  Just because I’d yet to see his parents here didn’t mean they never came home. It was their house after all.

  He pulled back arching his brow. “But you look so good on my counter.”

  “On your parents’ counter,” I said. “Imagine if they came home and found us like this.”

  His expression hardened.

  “Devon, what is it?” I touched his cheek, surprised that right then, in that moment, I wanted to know his secrets.

  “Nothing.” He picked me up off the counter and I squealed. My legs went around his waist and he carried me down the hall to his room at the back of the house. Once we were inside, he kicked the door shut behind him, keeping me locked around his body.

  We landed on the bed with a whoosh in a tangle of limbs and eager touches.

  “Hurry,” I cried, peppering his jaw with kisses.

  “What’s the rush?” he asked, staring down at me. I turned my head away, breaking contact. Suddenly feeling stripped bare.

  Then it hit me. This was the first time I’d been here, been anywhere with him, sober. I’d been so desperate to escape the family dinner, I hadn’t stopped to think.

  “Macey?”

  Stuffing down my fears, I locked eyes with him, but no words came. So, I hooked my arm around his neck and pulled his face down to mine. The kiss was clumsy. All teeth and tongues, but it did the trick and before the awkwardness could creep back in, Devon grabbed a condom from his drawer, rolled it on and covered my body again.

  “Fuuuuck.” He buried his face in the crook of my neck, dragging his teeth across my skin as he pushed inside me. I got it. Being together, like this, with no drunken haze surrounding us... it was different. More.

  It was everything.

  And if it wasn’t for the sensations rushing through me, the fact I was drowning in him, I would have gotten the hell out of there before we crossed a line we couldn’t come back from.

  Hitching my legs around his waist, I arched my body to meet his as he rolled his hips into me slow and steady. Usually we were frantic. Clothes tearing, hands grabbing. But everything about this was new. Something was changing between us. I knew he felt it too from the way he watched me, staring down at me with awe in his eyes. We didn’t speak, we didn’t need to, because I could feel everything. Every stroke, every glide of skin against skin. Every time his lips brushed the shell of my ear, my lips. Devon was marking me. Savoring me as if he might never get to feel me again.

  And it terrified me.

  AFTER LYING IN DEVON’S arms for far too long, I finally started to move.

  “Stay,” his husky voice fanned the shell of my ear, shooting shivers up my spine. But I was already pulling away, untangling myself from his sweaty body.

  “I have a thing in the morning.”

  He let me go, flopping back against the pillows. “A thing, really? That’s where we’re at now?”

  “Devon—”

  “You called me, remember?” Irritation rolled off him as I moved around his room gathering up my clothes.

  “Yeah, well, maybe it was a mistake.” The flash of pain in his eyes mirrored the hurt clenching my chest.

  “This is bullshit, and you know it.” He raked a hand through his messy dark hair. “You called me because I’m there. Not Maverick, or Kyle, or your fake cheerleader friends. Me. When are you going to wake up and see what’s staring you right in the face?”

  Now dressed, I locked eyes with him. “I should go.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” Devon could barely look at me, and I deserved it. I used him to forget, to feel something—anything—other than the constant numbness, and no matter how much I told myself it was the last time, it never was.

  I slipped out of his room and hurried out of the house. My cell vibrated, and I dug it out of my purse.

&
nbsp; Unknown: We can’t keep doing this.

  Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. He was right. We were on borrowed time. Wicked Bay was a small town. Everyone knew everyone else’s business and it wouldn’t be long before someone saw something. Ending it now, before anyone got hurt, was the right thing to do. Besides, it wasn’t like we could ever be more. I was using Devon to forget my life, and he was using me to forget the girl he wanted and could never have.

  I tapped out a reply and hit send.

  Me: You’re right we can’t. Goodbye Devon.

  Chapter 6

  DEVON

  I almost went after her. But I knew better than to beg. Macey Prince was an enigma. Layered and so fucking angry at the world. She could cut you with one look. I knew—I’d experienced the Macey Prince ice-queen routine enough times. But shit, if she wasn’t a hard shell I wanted to crack wide open. I wanted to thaw each icy layer until I found what was underneath. Because there was more to her. I felt it every time we were together.

  The first time I’d woken up next to her, I had almost choked. She was curled up beside me, naked and asleep. Like a dark-haired angel. Peaceful and serene, but with her classic Prince scowl plastered on her pretty little face. From the ache in my dick I knew we’d done stuff. Hell, I knew we’d done more than just stuff. I felt her all over me.

  Macey Prince.

  What the fuck had I been thinking?

  We were like mortal enemies or some shit. Or at least, she was the sister of my mortal enemy. Maverick Prince would skin me alive if he ever found out about the things I’d done to his sister.

  And by now, I’d done a lot.

  There wasn’t a part of Macey I didn’t know. The soft curves of her hips. How perfectly her tits fit in the palm of my hands. The way she cried my name when she came. The only thing I didn’t have a road map of was her heart. That thing was locked up tight, and she wasn’t letting me in for shit.

  Not that I wanted in.

  Did I?

  Ah fuck. Who was I kidding? I wanted her anyway I could take her. The good, the bad, and the downright fucked-up. Because she was. Macey was harboring some deep-seated issues. I didn’t know the whole story, but I’d heard enough floating around the halls of school. The Stone-Prince family had enough drama to have its own reality TV show.