Cruel Intentions Read online

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Although this book is set in a high school environment, it is a dark bully romance, and it is not suitable for young teens due to mature content, graphic sexual scenes, and cursing. The recommending reading age is eighteen+. Some scenes may be triggering.

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  About The Author

  Books by Siobhan Davis

  Copyright

  PROLOGUE

  Waves crash against the empty shore, summoning me with invisible arms, and my feet move toward the icy water as if I’m pulled by a string. I’m numb inside. Hollowed out. And I just want to put an end to this… charade that is my so-called life.

  I never remember a time in my seventeen years on this earth where I had free will. Where every aspect of my life wasn’t controlled and mapped out.

  And I’m done.

  Done with the mask I’ve no choice but to wear.

  Done with the elite crap I’m forced to participate in.

  Done with that monster who calls himself my father.

  I want out, and the turbulent sea offers me salvation. I scarcely feel the deathly cold water as it swirls around my ankles like the tempting caress of a destructive lover. My silk robe offers little protection against the bitter wind whipping my long dark hair around my face, and goose bumps prickle my skin in everyplace it’s exposed.

  I walk farther into the water, my body shivering and shaking as the wild waves lap at my calves. An eerie voice echoes in my mind, urging me to stop.

  Imploring me to go back.

  Pleading with me not to give up.

  Suggesting my world is about to change.

  I ignore that taunting voice, tilting my head up, surveying the crescent moon in the dark nighttime sky, casting strangely shaped shadows on the land below. My ears prick at the sound of splashing behind me, and my heart beats faster as adrenaline courses through my veins, but I don’t turn around.

  “Hey. Are you okay?” a deep masculine voice asks from close by.

  I’m standing knee-deep in icy-cold water in the middle of the night in minuscule clothing. Does it fucking look like I’m okay? My snarky alter ego mentally responds to his question, but I remain mute. I can’t summon the energy to speak or to care what the stranger thinks of me.

  I just want him to go away. To leave me alone. To at least give me this.

  But no such luck.

  He wades through the water, his darkened form brushing against my arm as he moves around me, positioning himself directly in my line of sight so I’ve no choice but to look at him.

  A flicker of warmth enters my chest as I stare into sultry brown eyes that are so deep they’re almost black. The glow from the moon casts a shadow around his form, highlighting his masculine beauty in all its glory. He’s wearing low-hanging cotton shorts and nothing else. His bare chest is an impressive work of art that speaks to incredible dedication in the gym. His cut abs are so sharp they look painted on. But it’s the tattoos on his chest and lower arms that grab my attention. None of the guys at Rydeville High would dare ink their skin. It wouldn’t fit the reputations they’ve so carefully cultivated or suit their obnoxious parents’ plans for their futures. The elite wouldn’t dream of lowering themselves to something so provincial.

  This guy is an enigma, and the first sparks of curiosity ignite inside me.

  My eyes trail up his delectable torso, refocusing on his face. He’s watching me carefully. Absorbing my gaze like he wants to bury deep inside me and figure me out. My fingers itch to run along the fine layer of scruff adorning his chin and jawline. To mess up his hair which is styled long on top and shorn close to his skull on both sides. A craving to explore his chiseled cheekbones, and to taste his full lips, hits me out of nowhere, reminding me I’m still very much alive.

  I can’t ever recall having such a strong, physical reaction to a guy upon sight. None of the guys back home have affected me so potently, except for Trent—he makes my skin crawl with the barest of looks—but this is the complete opposite.

  One glance from this stranger heats my blood and stirs desire low in my belly. I cock my head to the side, intrigued and aroused, my previous self-destructive mission all but forgotten.

  We don’t speak. We just stare at one another and an electrical current charges the small space between us. My body emerges from its semi-comatose state, and I’m equally hot and cold. A shiver works its way through me, and I wrap my arms around my slim frame, desperately trying to ward off the biting cold air clawing at my pale skin.

  “You need to get warm.” The stranger extends his hand. “Come with me.”

  I wrap my hand around his without hesitation, and we tread through the water back toward the shore. His callused palm is firm against my skin, sending a flurry of fiery tingles coasting up and down my arm. We don’t speak as we emerge from the sea, walking across the clammy sand toward a small wooden cabin in the near distance. I hadn’t noticed it when I first arrived because I had singular focus.

  A thin stream of smoke creeps out of a narrow chimney, and I watch the cloudy spirals with fascination as we walk hand in hand toward the neat wooden structure. In the distance, a sprawling mansion occupies prime real estate, the property submerged in darkness at this late hour.

  He pushes open the door, stepping aside to allow me to enter first. A blast of heat slaps me in the face from the roaring open fire, and my body relaxes for the first time in days. The cabin is small but cozy and welcoming. The main room contains a compact kitchen with a stove, sink, and a long counter with three stools. On the right is a three-seater couch positioned in front of a coffee table and a wall-mounted TV over the fireplace. A side room suggests a bedroom with en suite bathroom, and that’s the extent of the space.

  My bedroom is bigger than this entire cabin, but it isn’t half as inviting.

  A bright rug resting atop the varnished hardwood floor, the soft colorful throw on the couch, and an abundance of vibrant cushions injects a comfortable, lived-in feel. The old bookcase tucked into the corner between the wall and the door is crammed full of books, DVDs, and mementos, creating a homey atmosphere. The only light is from the flickering flames of the fire and an old-fashioned lamp on top of the coffee table.

  He shuts the door and steers me in front of the fire. On autopilot, I raise my palms, relishing the heat as it wraps around my chilly skin. He moves around behind me, but I don’t turn to look. I stand in front of the fire, allowing it to thaw my frozen limbs and fracture the layer of ice surrounding my heart.

  “Sit down,” he commands in that rugged voice of his
, draping a blanket around my upper body.

  I sink to the ground without a word, tucking my knees into my chest as I peer at him. He drops down in front of me, gently uncurling my legs, drawing one into his lap as he dries my damp skin with a soft blue towel. We stare at one another as he dries both my feet and legs, and that same pull from before pulses between us, rendering some invisible connection.

  “I feel like I know you from somewhere, yet I’ve never seen you before,” I admit, eventually finding my voice.

  He stalls with his hands on my feet, piercing my gaze with his intense chocolate-colored one. “I know,” he says after a few beats.

  When he tosses the towel aside, I move closer to him, sitting up on my knees with my body resting on my ankles. I keep my eyes locked on his as I reach up and touch the shorn side of his head, my fingers trailing over the velvety soft hair, tracing the edge of his skull tattoo. It was too dark outside to notice it, but now, I’m even more intrigued by this elusive, hot stranger who appeared out of nowhere to rescue me.

  The tattoo is in the shape of a cross, and I wonder if the symbolism means something personal to him. All I know is it’s sexy as hell, and my body naturally responds to him, arching in closer.

  He pulls my hand away from his head, pressing a feather-light kiss to the sensitive skin on my wrist, and I feel his tender touch all the way to the tips of my toes. His gentle touch is in direct contrast to his edgy look. With his defined abs, bulging biceps, and ink-covered tan skin, he looks like the quintessential bad boy every girl gets warned about. “Why were you out there?” he asks, keeping his gaze locked on mine.

  I could lie, but I’m tired of all the lies.

  I’m tired of saying what’s expected and pretending to be someone I’m not.

  “I didn’t want to feel anymore.”

  There’s a pregnant pause as he stares at me, no doubt wondering if I meant that sincerely. “What would you have done if I hadn’t spotted you?” he inquires, still trying to puzzle me out.

  I shrug. “Kept walking most likely.” Allowed the sea to claim me as I’d originally intended when I’d given Oscar, my bodyguard, the slip, and driven here.

  “Who are you? What’s your name?”

  I cup his face, deciding on the truth again. “I’m nobody. I’m invisible. I don’t exist except to obey their commands.”

  A slight frown creases his brow. “If you’re in trouble. If—”

  “Don’t.” I cut across him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Silence engulfs us for a few beats. “What do you want?” he asks, his voice dropping a notch, sounding wholly seductive, although I’m unsure if that’s on purpose or not.

  “I want to feel something real,” I reply without uncertainty. “I want to let go of these chains that bind my body. To feel like I’m in control even if it’s only an illusion.” My eyes stay locked on his, and electricity crackles in the air again.

  He rakes his gaze up and down the length of my body, his heated stare lingering on my chest as my nipples harden. His eyes flit to my mouth before he licks his lips and drags his gaze upward. His eyes bore into mine, and butterflies scatter in my chest, my heart beating faster and faster as my body heats in a whole new way. “I can help with that.”

  This time, there’s no doubting his intent, and my core aches with need. My gaze drills into his eyes, projecting my acceptance and permission.

  Nodding slowly, he pulls me onto his lap, circling his arms around my waist. “Are you sure?”

  I bob my head. “Please make me feel alive. Make me feel like me. Remind me why I should live.”

  It’s crazy.

  I don’t know him.

  He doesn’t know me.

  But I feel more hopeful in this moment than I have in years.

  Slowly, he brings his face to mine, brushing his lips against my mouth. I close my eyes as my body sags in relief. Snaking my arms around his neck, I angle my head as he caresses my mouth with his luscious lips. His kiss is unhurried and worshipful. His mouth moves leisurely and seductively against mine, and this kiss is unlike any I’ve ever experienced before.

  Trent kisses with years of pent-up anger and aggression behind his punishing lips, and it makes me feel dead on the inside. This stranger’s tender kisses unravel the knots that usually twist in my gut, breaking through the walls that cage my heart, allowing warmth and pleasure to invade every single part of me.

  I meld my lips and my body to his, straddling his hips and gasping as his hard length nudges against the softest part of me. He rocks his hips gently in expert, measured movements, and a burst of desire shoots through me, overtaking logic and warning and common sense.

  I shouldn’t be doing this here with some guy I don’t know.

  It would enrage my father, my twin brother, Drew, and my fiancé, Trent, if they saw me, but that thought only spurs me on, strengthening my resolve.

  He stands, holding me to him, and I tighten my legs around his waist as he walks toward the bedroom. Our mouths never separate as he lowers me to the bed, and we gradually shed our outer layers.

  I’ve never been naked in front of any guy before. Trent repeatedly tries to strip me bare, but I enjoy denying him. Now, I spread my legs for this beautiful, rugged stranger, with no hint of nerves or vulnerability, admiring his gorgeous body as he pulls a condom out of his bedside table and rolls it over his impressive length.

  We don’t talk, but words are redundant. He settles between my thighs, bringing his hot mouth to my pussy, and I almost lift off the bed as he devours me with his tongue and his fingers, quickly bringing me over the edge.

  No man has ever done that to me before, and the pleasurable sensations coursing through my body are wholly new. When I come down from the best orgasm of my life, he climbs over me, kissing me passionately as his hands caress my small breasts. His roughened fingers tweak my nipples like he’s plucking strings on a guitar, rolling them skillfully until they’re taut peaks, and it’s not long before I’m writhing in need again.

  He positions himself at my entrance, stalling to look at me. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks, and another little chip melts off the block around my heart.

  No one has ever cared to ask me what I need or what I want, and tears prick my eyes at the obvious concern in his eyes.

  “Yes. I want to do this with you.”

  His eyes are glued to mine as he slowly inches inside me. He stops halfway in, sweeping his fingers across my cheek. “You’re so beautiful.” He nudges in a little more. “And so tight.” He flexes his jaw, and I can tell he’s exercising caution. When he pushes in a little more, a sharp sting of pain jolts through me, and I wince.

  His eyes pop wide as he holds himself still. Shock splays across his face. “You’re a virgin?” he splutters.

  A sly smirk slips across my mouth. “I was.”

  “Fuck.” He leans down, kissing me so sweetly I feel like crying. “You should’ve said.”

  And have you change your mind? Not likely.

  Thoughts of losing my virginity to that psycho Trent were part of the reason drawing me to the sea tonight. I’ve been holding him off for years, but with the wedding approaching, I know I can’t hold out much longer.

  Denying him that victory only adds to the joy of this moment.

  But it’s way more than wanting to one-up Trent.

  I want to give my body to this gorgeous stranger.

  To enjoy this one night where I can take something for myself before returning to the gilded cage I live in.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say, bucking my hips up in encouragement. “I want this with you. Right here. Right now. Nothing has made so much sense in a long time.”

  He inspects me for so long I fear he will pull out and change his mind, but then he pushes the rest of the way inside me, and I swallow my cry of pain. He peppers little kisses along my neck and my collarbone, gently kneading my tits as he slowly rocks back and forth inside me. “I’ll go slow until i
t doesn’t hurt anymore,” he whispers across my now overheated skin. “And if you want me to stop, I will.”

  “I don’t want you to stop,” I say, threading my fingers through the longish dark strands of hair now falling over his strong brow. “Keep going.”

  He makes love to me then, only picking up his pace when I confirm it no longer hurts, but he’s never rough, completely attentive to my needs, and he brings me to a second orgasm as his own climax hits.

  I’m sprawled across his warm body, a few hours later, listening to the comforting beat of his heart, watching his chest inflate and deflate in slumber, wishing I could stay here in this little beach cabin with this beautiful stranger for eternity.

  But I know that’s only wishful thinking. A fantasy I can’t entertain. Bringing anyone into my life risks theirs, and that’d be a poor way of rewarding this man who has given me a night I will cherish for the rest of my life.

  Although I hate to leave him like this, it’s for the best.

  He can’t know who I am or understand the implications of what we’ve just done.

  Reluctantly, I ease out of his warm bed and his life, feeling a pang of overwhelming sadness as I get dressed, preparing myself to leave him behind. He looks peaceful in slumber, like a tattooed guardian angel, arriving at the perfect moment to help put things in perspective.

  If I’d followed through tonight, they would have won, and I know my dead mother wouldn’t want that for me.

  I’m stronger than that.

  I might be a pawn in a game I don’t want to play, but that doesn’t mean I can’t win.

  I need to strategize.

  To plan my victory so I can escape the tortured future lying in wait for me.

  Determination surges through my veins, and I smile adoringly at the beautiful man who has given me so much more than his body. “Thank you,” I whisper, blowing him a kiss. I wish I could taste his lips one final time, but I don’t want to wake him. It’s better that I leave like this.

  My hand is curled around the door handle when I spy a pencil and sketchpad on the coffee table. Without stopping to second-guess myself, I tear a strip off the end of a blank page and pen a brief note.