She cried out. “Will… Ah!”
I was not smaller. And I didn’t need reminding of how the hell she knew what he looked like naked.
Sucking and tugging, kissing and biting, I ate the bitch with no hesitation and no mercy. I licked up the sides, nibbling her skin and flicking her clit with my tongue as she squirmed under me, trying to crawl away.
She gasped for breath, a sweet sweat glistening across her tight stomach as her nipples hardened to little rocks.
Then…moans filled the air, her body quivered, and her thighs fell wide as she lifted her head and watched me lick her pussy.
“Will…” she panted, threading her fingers through my hair.
Rising up, I threw off my jacket and glanced over my shoulder, seeing Micah grin as he watched us. Rory was swallowing his cock, servicing Micah like I was doing to her.
Dipping back down, I slowed a bit, kissing her flesh and licking her before sticking my tongue inside, tasting her so warm and wet.
Her back arched off the sofa, and she threw her head back, shuddering and clawing my shoulders.
Flicking her clit with my tongue, I sucked it into my mouth again and again, her tits bobbing back and forth as she sought it, trying to grind into it and ride my mouth.
“That feel good, girl?” Micah called out to her.
She nodded, panting with her eyes closed. “Yeah.”
“Be sure to park his ass next me when he’s done with you,” he told her, sucking in air between his teeth. “You drop to your knees like Rory, and I can watch both of you swallow us down.”
Cum leaked out of my dick as I pulsed with need.
“Yeah,” she whimpered.
I placed my hand on her stomach, feeling her shake and her breaths grow erratic. When she sucked in air, holding it, again and again, I knew she was right there.
Aching and boiling with heat, I tore myself away and stood up, sweat cooling my brow.
I wanted to bring her there. I didn’t want to ever stop.
And the old me wouldn’t have.
It took a moment to catch my breath as I stared down at her. She blinked a few times, opening her eyes when she realized I’d stopped.
“Wha…” she breathed out.
I leaned down, getting in her face. “When you’re ready for me to finish that,” I said. “You come to me.”
She dug in her eyebrows, gaping.
“My bed is on the third floor.” I rose up, grabbing my jacket. “Come and ask me for it.”
And I left, the appendage between my legs trying to tear a hole in my pants as Micah’s laugh followed me up the stairs. Along with the shatter of whatever vase Emmy threw in the drawing room that crashed two seconds later.
That was the hardest fucking thing I’d ever had to do.
Like harder than prison, detox, and the Doris Day double-feature at the drive-in my mother asked me to take her to when I was seventeen.
Combined.
Emory
Nine Years Ago
“Here you go.” Mr. Kincaid handed me a pack of college brochures, secured with a rubber band. “When you apply, though, your acceptance letters will come to your house.”
He winked at me, and I gave him a tight smile.
Reaching over his desk, I took the booklets. “Thanks.”
Believe me. I knew I’d have to deal with this sooner or later.
I left his office and walked through the main office, heading out to the hallway. My brother expected me to go to college. It was one of the only areas we agreed and where I didn’t experience resistance from him, but that might change if he learned my choices. I wasn’t ready for his opinion on the matter, so I asked the dean to request the brochures for me for now. I still had a year to apply and face the fights.
I pushed through the doors, opening the top booklet as a few students made their way down the hall.
“Ooooh, Berkeley.” Someone snatched the booklet out of my hands.
I turned my head to see Elle flipping through the brochure. “Hey,” I scolded, reaching for the brochure.
She pulled away, looking at it. “You couldn’t get any farther away from here,” she said. “But I guess that’s what you want.”
I stole the booklet back. “Yep.”
Berkeley was at the other end of the country, and I could afford maybe two years with the college fund my parents had put in a trust for me.
I wasn’t planning to use any of it, though.
I’d barely slept last night after Will left, spending much of the night replaying him in my head, part of me sure I should’ve just let him leave when he tried the first time, and the other half of me sorry that I let him go the second time.
But I did decide on one thing that had been troubling me. If my grandmother were still alive when I left for college, my trust would be more than enough to pay for a year at the best convalescent home in Meridian City.
That would get her out of my brother’s house, and I’d be able to go to school without worry.
All I had to do was earn a scholarship—or ten—to pay for my education.
I looked ahead, hearing a group of students laughing.
Will stood against the lockers, surrounded by his friends, his arms wrapped around Davinia Paley as he lifted her off the ground and stared into her eyes. She smiled at him.
My heart sank, and my mouth went dry.
I faltered for a moment, blinking and looking quickly away. Looks like he found his Homecoming date. What a prick.
Elle stopped at my side, following my eyes as I looked up at him again. He held Davinia like she weighed nothing, talking to her and looking playful and happy, while everyone around them, with their clothes and their cars and their friends, looked like a Teen Vogue ad I’d never belong in.
He looked over at me, and I dropped my eyes, turning away. It was just as well.
I continued down the hall, feeling his eyes on me as I passed, and Elle and I rounded the corner, stopping at my locker.
“Will I see you in class?” she asked.
“Ugh.”
She snorted, because she was well-aware I hated literature class. Touching my arm, she continued on. “Maybe see you at lunch then.”
“See you.”
I stuck the brochures into my locker, hiding them at school for now, and pulled out my notebook, The Grapes of Wrath, and the rest of my materials for the morning, stuffing everything into my bag.
The bag grew heavier, though, as Will and his friends’ laughter escalated around the corner, my patience and silence spent. I couldn’t sit in class right now.
I wish I could. Show him that he didn’t bother me. That Davinia didn’t bother me.
He should see me tough and unaware of all of it.
It was a game I knew well.
But I slammed my locker door shut and walked down the hall, passing lit class and taking one flight up to the art room.
It was always empty first period, and Mr. Gaines didn’t arrive until he absolutely had to. I’d have the room for another hour.
Dropping my bag at my usual drafting table, I pulled my rolls of paper out of my cubby and slid onto my stool, spreading everything out and getting to work.
The bell rang, students raced down the halls outside the doors, but soon everything quieted, and all I could hear were the teachers beginning their lessons beyond the dark, quiet walls of my little hideaway.
Using my rulers, I continued the redesign of the Bell Tower, the one near the cemetery that had fallen to ruins when St. Killian’s was abandoned so many years ago. I measured the gables, as well as drew lines for each of the small decorative dormers I was adding. It was an assignment, but I’d love to see it come to fruition someday.