His lips find my neck, sucking and biting as brings me closer to the edge, but in the worst timing, visions of the girl in his room cut through the fog of lust. When he pulls away and the tips of his fingers dip into the waistband of my shorts, I grab his wrist, stopping him.
“You were with another girl the other night.” The words seem so juvenile out loud, but I’m not a homewrecker.
Thayer laughs darkly against my neck, sending a chill down my spine. “You think this makes you my girlfriend or something?” he asks, then scrapes his teeth across my neck.
“I hate you.” Even as I say the words, I’m arching into him, needing more.
“Tell me another lie.” His hand flattens against my stomach and slides beneath my shorts and underwear. My grip on his wrist is loose, hardly a protest. “Tell me more pretty little lies from these pretty little lips.” His fingers part me and I gasp, squeezing his wrist, and he groans appreciatively. “This doesn’t feel like hate.”
My knees fall open, some sick part of me getting off on his taunts, and he pushes a finger inside. It doesn’t escape me that I had a game earlier and I could use a shower. I don’t even want to know what I look like, messy hair, still in my uniform—knee pads and all—getting finger fucked on the hood of a car. Any hope of keeping my pride intact flies out the window when I urge him to speed up his movements by guiding his wrist to move faster.
“Fuck,” Thayer groans, his free hand jerking my shorts down to give him better access. He pumps his hand faster, and I tug at the hem of his sweatshirt, wanting to feel his skin, but he stops me. I give a frustrated growl and he answers by pushing my shirt up my chest and scraping his teeth over my piercing through my white sports bra. The orgasm I don’t see coming hits me hard and fast, and I clench around his fingers, mouth falling open in a silent scream.
When I come back down to Earth, I open my eyes to find Thayer’s attention locked onto where he slowly slides his fingers in and out of me, seeming dazed. I lick my lips that are dry from the cool air, still shuddering with aftershocks. Thayer pulls his fingers from me, giving my pussy two pats, and I flinch, still sensitive.
“Welcome home, Shayne.”
Shayne
I hate Thayer Ames.
At least that’s what I tell myself every time my thoughts drift back to him and how he left me on the hood of his car with my shorts still around my thighs. Reaching an entirely unprecedented level of asshole, he walked away, got into his car, started the engine, and held my forgotten backpack from his window, dangling it from two fingers, while he waited for me to pull myself together. I pulled my shorts back into place and peeled myself—along with my dignity—off the hood before storming into the house without a backwards glance.
Just when I think he’s finally showing me a glimpse of something real, he has to ruin it by being an asshole. And I’m the idiot who fell for it. Again.
To make matters worse, I still don’t know what I’m going to tell my mom about my car. If it was one tire, I could make up some story about getting a flat or running over a nail or something. But four of them sliced open at the wall? There’s no denying that it was intentional, and that will lead to her worrying about me and how I’m…reacclimating.
Not to mention the financial burden. I can’t even begin to accurately guess how much it will cost to replace four tires. Eight-hundred bucks? A thousand? She won’t talk money with me—says that’s not a kid’s business to worry about finances—but I know we’re struggling. Grey is going to one of the best colleges in the country, and it’s not like he has a scholarship. Living in Sawyer Point isn’t exactly cheap either.
“All right, ladies,” Coach calls out, bringing me out of my thoughts. “That’s it for today. Once again, good job last night. Let’s carry that same energy through the season. Enjoy your day off tomorrow, then we have a game against Mountain View on Thursday.”
I throw my ball into the bin, and when I turn around, I see Holden sitting on the bleachers on the other side of the gym. What the hell is he doing here? Has he been there this whole time? I roll my eyes when I notice Taylor spot him at the same time, a flirty grin spreading over her face as she saunters toward him. He stands, walking toward her.
“Hey, sexy,” she says coyly, once she’s a few feet away.
Holden notices her, seemingly for the first time, and barely acknowledges her with a flick of his chin before he walks right past her. Taylor’s face is beet-red with what I’m sure is a mixture of anger and embarrassment. The only thing worse than rejection for a girl like that is public rejection. Because her little friends, along with the entire team, just witnessed the whole thing.
“Hey, baby sister.”
“For the last time—” I say, glaring at him.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re not my sister. The sound of it just gets me hot, what can I say?” He takes my bag, then puts a hand on the small of my back as we walk through the gym.
“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper.
“Thayer said you’d need a ride.”
I snort. How gallant. “Not from you.”
“I thought we were past this,” he says, sounding bored.
“You don’t even realize what you just did, do you?”
“What?” His eyebrows pull together, genuinely confused, and I shake my head, amused at how oblivious he can be.
“As if I wasn’t already on her shit list, that just made me an even bigger target.”
“Who, Taylor?” he asks, glancing behind us to see her standing there, seething. “Fuck her. She’s not my girlfriend. We fucked like two times.”
Wow. These Ames boys sure know how to treat a girl. Not that it’s news to me. Holden has never had an exclusive relationship in all the time that I’ve known him.
“Okay, first of all, gross. Second of all, it doesn’t matter. She thinks I’m what’s standing in her way.”
“And you care because?”
I stop to look at him. I…I don’t know. Why do I care? It’s not like I’m afraid of her. I just prefer to avoid her if I can help it. “I don’t care. It seems to be her mission in life to make my life hell, so I’d rather not hand her the ammunition.” And she slept with your brother on the night of the funeral. Not that I can really fault her for it. It’s not like she knew about Thayer and me. Still, Taylor has always been a mean girl through and through.
“I’ll fix it,” he promises.
“No—”
“I’ll fix it,” he cuts me off, his voice firmer this time, then he takes my hand in his. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, I drop it, even though I know his idea of fixing it will no doubt make it worse. It’s like when the nerdy kid’s mom calls the school to tell them they’re being picked on, and they only end up getting it ten times worse. That’s just how bullies operate.
Once we’re outside, I stop dead in my tracks, noticing my car is gone. Valen picked me up for school this morning, and it was still parked when we got there.
“Dammit!”
“What’s the problem?” Holden frowns.
“My car got towed.”