Page 30 of If You Dare

First the party. Now this. Wes is doing everything he can to humiliate me at every turn.

I blink back the tears. I don’t deserve to cry because I’ve earned this. The insults, the torment, the assaults. I’ve earned each and every one.

“Get your dick sucked here, huh?” A sickening male voice calls out. My spine goes ramrod straight. “Don’t mind if I do.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, praying I’m imagining this before reluctantly turning to find whoever is approaching.

Four hulking men saunter toward me, solid white masks concealing their faces.

The Devils.

Their faces are almost entirely hidden behind the masks, but I’m familiar enough with their eyes, statures, and smirks to know exactly which Devils they are.

Trey, Brody, Luke, and Wes.

They stop mere feet from me, Trey making a big show about punching my number into his phone even though I know he already has it saved. I’m sure I can expect a barrage of dick pics at two in the morning.

“Maintenance is on their way,” I mumble, like that’s any sort of threat to them. They got what they wanted—public humiliation.

“What do you say, Novak?” Brody asks, stepping closer. His brown eyes flat, almost bored even as he looms over me with predatory intent. “You take her mouth first?”

My pulse picks up speed. They can’t do anything to me here—we’re in a hallway. Sure, we’re on the fifth floor in the middle of the day and most students are on campus, but they can’t seriously think they can force me to blow them right here, out in the open.

Wes doesn’t say a word. His ice-blue eyes are murderous through the holes in his mask.

Of course, if the cameras catch them forcing me to suck them off, the only footage the university will have is of four unidentified masked men.

My gaze darts to Luke, but even his normally kind, friendly eyes are hard. I took Chloe away from him. The girl of his dreams. He resents me too.

Trey approaches, forcing me back against the door. They tower over me, blocking me from view from anyone who might exit the elevator behind them. Blocking me from signaling to anyone who may be able to help. I’m cornered.

Trapped.

“I say we fill all of the little cum slut’s holes,” Trey purrs, hot breath curling around my neck through the cluster of small holes in his mask.

I flinch away, but Brody smacks a hand on the other side of my head, blocking me in.

No, no, no. The panic mounts. Trey’s hand slowly slips from my cheek to my collarbone. Then down to my breast, where he cups me in his huge palm and squeezes.

I hiss through my teeth, flattening against the door, but it does nothing to help me escape his touch.

Brody grabs my other breast, squeezing and shoving my flesh up before twisting my nipple.

“Stop!” I try to push them away, but they’re immovable concrete barriers in front of me.

Over their shoulders, Wes glares. But he doesn’t move. Only watches.

After that first time he kissed me, he told me I was his. More warning than promise.

Now he’s letting his teammates touch me. Grope me.

His way of confirming I’m not his anymore.

He doesn’t care who touches me or where. He doesn’t care what they force me to do. Right in front of him.

I don’t matter any more to him than a nameless puck bunny now.

“Shh,” Trey whispers in my ear. “Or we’ll make it worse.”

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