I swallow hard, my eyes falling closed when I feel his mouth drift across my face, until it pauses at my ear. “You were made for me, you know. You’re just as sick and fucked up as I am.”
I’m trembling. A shuddery breath leaves me and he bites my ear, making me whimper. “When I come back, I’m fucking you.”
Arousal lights me up inside at his words. “Where are you going?”
“None of your damn business,” he says, pushing away from me with a sneer. “Thanks for the gift.”
He turns and leaves me there, walking away without a backward glance. I watch him go, shaking like a leaf, despising how easy it is for him to just…abandon me.
Typical. They all eventually abandon me.
He’s just like the rest.
I wait a few minutes before I make my way back to the table I abandoned. My backpack still sits there untouched, and I know it’s because of Whit that no one bothers me anymore. I can appreciate that, but the only reason they bothered me in the first place is…
Because of Whit.
He’s somehow become both my protector and my nightmare.
Fitting.
Grabbing my stuff, I go to the bathroom and try to piece myself back together. I’m a mess. My hair is falling out of my ponytail and after washing my hands, I fix it, studying myself. My eyes are sparkling and a little wild. My cheeks are pink and my lips are still swollen, all from our kissing session. Why do I want him, when he treats me so terribly? What is wrong with me? Is it the whole, we always want what we can’t have scenario?
I don’t know, but the thing is, I can have him. I have had him. Not in every way I want, but we’re getting there. We’re going to have sex. I’m going to know what it feels like to have Whit inside of my body.
My pussy clenches at the mere thought, reminding me that I’m standing here with no undies on. A strong breeze could come up while I’m walking on campus and catch my skirt, and everyone could see me.
I sort of don’t care.
The bathroom door swings open and in walks Caitlyn. Our gazes connect and she rolls her eyes, stopping at the sink next to mine to wash her hands. I watch her blatantly, annoyance filling me. One second she’s my friend and now she’s my enemy. I don’t get it.
I don’t get any of the people at this school. They’re all fucking terrible, truth be told.
“What are you looking at?” she snaps at me.
“I haven’t done shit to you, yet you hate me,” I say truthfully.
She shuts off the tap and shakes her hands into the sink before going to the paper towel dispenser to tear off a piece. She wipes her hands, her back to me, and I wait for her response. This has to be some sort of stall tactic.
Whatever. I’ve still got time.
Finally Caitlyn turns to face me, her face blank. No one at this school has emotions, I swear to God. “I don’t hate you.”
I’m taken aback by her simple statement. “I don’t believe you.”
She shrugs. “It’s true. I feel nothing for you. My problem is, I don’t understand why Whit is interested in you so much.”
“He’s not interested in—”
“Don’t bother saying he isn’t when you know it’s not true. I saw the way he stared at you at the restaurant. How he asked everyone on this campus to make your life a total nightmare, only to turn around and call us all off,” she says, admitting to everything I suspected. “He feels something for you, and he doesn’t feel anything about anyone beyond his friends and his family. Certainly never for a girl. He’s a user.”
I stare at her, stunned by her words, though they’re not necessarily a surprise. I’ve just never heard anyone say it so blatantly before.
Caitlyn is describing Whit perfectly.
“So why you?” she asks when I haven’t said anything. “I don’t get it. No one does. You’re not anything special. No offense, by the way, but I don’t see why he’s so fascinated with you. Who are you anyway?”
I remember the first time I saw Whit, at the party at his parents’ apartment. Did it begin then? When we were only fourteen?
“I’m no one,” I finally say, making my way toward the door. “I don’t matter.”
“You do to him,” she reminds me.
Reaching for the handle, I smile at her as I open the door. “I suppose I do,” I say just before I walk out.
Eighteen
Whit
I’m in the city for the weekend, summoned by my very own lord and master to make an appearance at his apartment. I show up at my father’s late Friday night, delaying my visit as much as I could, grateful to see he’s already in bed by the time I arrive.
I make myself a drink and go to my room, tossing my duffel on the edge of the bed and pulling a few things out, settling them on the bedside table, along with my drink. I mechanically strip out of my clothes completely and pull back the bed covers, slipping in between them. I grab my glass from the table and sip the aged whiskey at first. Until it turns into me consuming it, draining every last drop and licking my lips, savoring the burn that coats my throat.
Like a fucking degenerate, I grab the crumpled panties from where I left them on the table and bring them to my nose, inhaling deeply. I can still smell her scent. Musky sweet. Like sex. The memory of her taste floods my mouth and I close my eyes, sliding her panties down my chest and wrapping them around my already hard cock.
I’m fucking obsessed with her and the way she talks to me, like she wants to piss me off. The defiant look on her face earlier in the library filled me with the need to tame her. Make her mine. The night before, when she used my body to get off, shamelessly rubbing her wetness all over the front of my sweats—fuck me. It took every bit of willpower inside of me not to reach for her. Touch her.
Fuck her thoroughly.
Last night, I didn’t know what I wanted, and it showed. I lost control of the situation mentally, and I was all over the place. That frustrated me. Made me angry at myself.
At her too, though I know it wasn’t fair.
When is life ever fair though?
My head fills with images of her last night. The pleasure on her face when I jerked off above her, how she pursed those lush lips, her tongue darting out for a lick. She winced when the first splatter of semen hit her face and then she just laid there and took it. Like the perfect little submissive she must be.
Fuck.
The first time we were together, when she blew me, my cock hitting the back of her throat, making her gag. Coming all over her perfect tits.
Jesus.
The orgasm slams into me unexpectedly and I come in her panties, a quiet groan leaving me. I lie there afterward, pissed that it’s already over. Hating how quickly I’m losing control now, but only when it comes to Summer.
She’s becoming a weakness. One I don’t want or need. Maybe this weekend in the city with my father will reset me. Distance is the key. Disgust is a close second.
If I keep away from Summer, I won’t want her as much. If I remember how needy she makes me, it’ll disgust me.
Taking a deep breath, I clean myself up, then let the panties drop onto the bedside table. I grab her journal and crack it open, finding the spot where I last left off.