Monsters' Crew (Crude Hill High 1)

“Did you get your dress?”

“I did.”

It was a deep purple that curved around my breasts, molded to my body, and flared out at the hips. There was also a choke collar necklace, which felt more like another brand to the body.

The dress itself wasn’t too revealing. It hinted at cleavage, but that was about it.

“You’re going to look stunning.”

“Isn’t that the idea? The reason the Monsters have the party is another way of finding suitable partners.” It wasn’t lost on me that this was a chance for my dad to finally marry me off. For all I knew, he could be working with the Monsters to get rid of me. I wouldn’t put it past him.

My dad was a fucking bastard, used to getting what he wanted. I hated him so fucking much. I wanted him to die.

Clenching my hands into fists, I tried to stem the desire, but it was next to impossible. I didn’t know what the guys had done to me, but each day, it was getting harder to just ignore what was happening.

“I want you to know that I am sorry for everything. I … I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Are you developing a conscience now?” I asked.

“Em, please.”

“Peter, I’m tired. I don’t know why you’re here, or what you get out of it, but whatever the reason, I don’t want to know. I just want you to leave me alone.” There was a time I did love my brother. So long ago now.

He’d turned into my father’s protégé and that made him less than human in my book. “One day, I hope you can forgive me.”

I wouldn’t.

I stayed silent.

“You’ve got to be careful around the Monsters’ crew.”

“Why? Because they’re dangerous? Isn’t that a bit hypocritical?”

“I get that you’re angry.”

“Peter, you haven’t known how I’ve felt for a really long time. If I was you, I wouldn’t start to assume.” I pretended to yawn, hoping he’d get the message and just leave.

Fortunately, he did.

“I do love you, Emily. I only want what’s best for you. I hope one day you can understand that.”

The only thing I actually understood right now was that I hated him more than anything else in the world. I stayed silent, waiting for him to leave.

When he did, Caleb appeared.

“Where did you go?” I asked, putting my hand to his chest.

“Under the bed. He’s an asshole.”

“You don’t need to tell me. Believe me, I already know.” Taking a deep breath, I forced a smile to my lips. “Sorry you had to hear that.”

“I would gladly hear anything for you.” He reached out, touching my cheek.

Covering his hand with mine, I craved his touch, the closeness. I needed it.

I closed my eyes and breathed him all in, unable to handle being alone.

“I love you,” he said.

His words took me by surprise. I stared up at him, waiting for him to tell me something else, something different. Nothing else fell out of his mouth.

Those were his only words.

Shock rushed down my spine. Gael and now Caleb.

None of this made any sense.

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough. I know who you are.”

“Caleb, please.”

He stopped me from talking, pushing me to the bed and taking possession of my lips. He nudged the blanket away from me, and I spread my legs, wanting him to surround me.

The hard ridge of his cock pressed against my core, making me melt and moan. This was better than I could imagine.

Caleb lifted himself up but only long enough to start opening my pajama shirt. His palm pressed against my naked flesh. He felt so warm against me. I had no fight. Why would I fight so much pleasure all at once?

It was incredible.

“I bet you’re wet for me, aren’t you?”

“Please.”

He kissed down my neck, going to my chest, then down. His tongue flicking across my nipple. Reaching up, I grabbed hold of the bars of my bed, biting down on my lip to try to keep my pleasured cries quiet. If I gave away too much, we’d both be done for, and I didn’t want him to get hurt. His tongue stroked toward my other breast and suddenly, I didn’t want to be the only one undressed.

I let go of the bed and cupped his face. He didn’t fight me, his lips pressing against mine as I kissed him. This time, I pushed him to the bed and Caleb went willingly.

Straddling his waist, even with my pajama top open, I felt on fire. This was what I wanted, no needed.

With my hands at his shirt, I lift it up and over his head, throwing it to one side.

“Emily,” he said.

My name was soft music from his lips.

He was covered in ink. The Monster mark on his flesh, claiming him to his family and no one else.

I traced my palm down toward where I was straddled. He had more tattoos, but the mark of his family was what drew my attention. Today at the pool, I’d seen they all had matching ink. All on their chest, directly over their heart. I wasn’t surprised. Why would I be? This was their future.