by Hunter Rose
“So, where is this infamous diary?”
“Who says I have one?” I smile.
“Oh, you do. Believe me, I can tell.” He winks.
“Even if I did, which I’m not saying I do, why would I let you read it?”
He leans in closer as I hold my breath. “I think you would let me.”
“You‘re confident, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.” He grins, and it almost takes my breath away.
Thinking of my diary and all the naughty things I wrote about him last night, I change the subject.
“Tony and you are best friends, huh?”
“Yep. Why?”
Not wanting to tell him that Tony irks the hell out of me, I attempt a smile.
“No reason. So, where are you taking me on this date?” I hope he doesn’t notice my obvious attempt to change the subject from Tony. I feel uneasy with Tony in my house, especially after what happened between us at the party last night.
“I can tell you this, wear something comfortable.”
“Will this work?” I point to my outfit.
He takes in my sweats and ragged tee as he chuckles to himself. The sound sends chills over my body. “Uh yeah, except for the awful team it promotes. Otherwise, it’s perfect.”
I pretend to be offended as I grab the hem of my shirt.
“What’s wrong with this team?”
“Miami Dolphins—need I say more?”
“Oh, not a Fins fan, huh? Well, you can get out right now.” I point to the door and cast him my most stern face. I’m not a football fan and don’t even remember where I got this shirt, but watching him fumble around is brilliant.
“Well, I can see this is not working out.” He stands up, heads to the door, and grabs the knob. Maybe I went a little too far? Just as I’m about to confess my joke, he turns around and laughs.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily. The outfit is perfect, although with the Florida weather, you may get a little hot.” His eyes bore into mine, setting me on fire. My skin prickles when he reaches his hand out. I take it and rise off the bed, until I’m standing so close to him, I can smell his scent. He must have gone home and showered after the beach because he smells of fresh soap and some cologne that triggers a chemical reaction in me. I take a lingering sniff as I smile at him.
“Did you want to go back to the party?” I ask, dropping his hand. Holding his hand any longer may lead to other things, naughty things that play out like a movie through my head. He’s that sexy. I regain control of my hormones and head toward the door.
“Anywhere you are is fine with me.”
I can see now why girls throw themselves at his feet. His voice is low, and his stare is mesmerizing. I can’t tear my eyes away from him. Remain strong, and don’t succumb to this spellbinding effect he has on girls that leads to no phone call in the morning. I open the door and head back out to the living room.
The party continues well into the night. Trace doesn’t leave my side. He’s the kind of charming that people write stories about—I can see why everyone likes him.
As the party winds down, Maxine has already headed into her room with Darren. I wonder why she puts up with him. It’s obvious he isn’t serious, and she’s way too good for him. But I stay out of it. I did try to tell her once that I didn’t like him for her, and she nearly lost it.
So, now I’ve stopped telling her.
Trace is the last person to leave. I walk him to the door, where he stalls, standing in the entryway.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say with a smile.
“Yep, I really am looking forward to this.”
“You are? Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. Anything.” His posture stiffens, and he seems nervous.
“Why were you so mad last night at the party? I saw you lose your temper.”
He looks down, his body mere inches from mine. His eyes flicker as he seems to remember the card game last night. I’m hoping he doesn’t anger easily, because it raises a red flag for me.
But, his mood relaxes, and the anger washes away just as fast, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Oh, that.” He loops his fingers into the belt buckle of his shorts as he rocks onto his heels. “I just kind of lost my mind in a hand of poker.”
“Poker, huh?” I purse my lips and shake my head as the skepticism oozes from my mouth.
“Have a good night, Vanessa.” He almost hums my name when he says it—it’s the sexiest sound. I could get used to the deep, melodic rumble of his voice.
“Goodnight.” I turn and close the door.
Looking down the hallway, I survey the house. Trash is everywhere. Perfect. Can we hire a maid just for tomorrow? Maybe I’ll look into it in the morning, when my brain can function better. But for now, it’s so overloaded with thoughts of Trace Weston.
Walking down the hall, I trip over empty beer bottles. In my room, I grab my notebook, and something falls out. A letter flutters to the floor, and I bend over to retrieve it.
Glancing around the room to ensure I’m alone, I read the words again.
You are mine.
My heartbeat speeds up as I stare at the note. Is this a joke? It isn’t funny. Did Trace leave this here? Did someone else? Chills rush through my body at the thought of someone else being in my room. I check my belongings, making sure nothing else is disturbed.
Nothing is. I debate on bothering Maxine and Darren with this note, but decide against it. I stuff the letter into the dresser and slam it shut.
“You are mine” floats through my head as I try to sleep.
7
Trace
The thought of losing my precious Cobra, let alone what my father would do to me if I did, weighs heavily on my mind. Fortunately, Vanessa is different than any other girl I’ve met before. She has a quirky spunk I find amusing. I need to be sure this date with her is something that will keep her around for a month. No way am I losing my sweet car, I don’t care how hot the girl is. A vanilla relationship: I’ve gotta keep my dick in my pants, and the whips and chains out of the bedroom for four weeks. No problem.
I arrive home and see the light is on. Tony left the party early, I guess, while Darren stayed the night.
I park the car, hop out, and walk up the front porch steps. Tony is sitting in the dark, a single lamp illuminating half of his face as I walk inside, scaring me just a bit.
“Kinda creepy, dude. What are you doing?” I ask, throwing my keys on the entry table.
“I’m thinking,” he growls, sounding upset.
“About?” I walk over to where the switches are and flip them on.
Tony covers his eyes as if he has never seen the light before. “Man, that’s bright. What the fuck?”
Why is he so upset?
“What’s wrong?” I ask him, wondering why in the world he’s sitting in the dark like a creep.
“Nothing . . . well, do you remember that chick I liked a few months ago?”
I don’t, but pretend I do. “Sure, yeah.”
“Well, tonight she was with some other motherfucker.”
“That bites.” I’m at a loss for words. I mean, there are plenty of girls out there. Why is he hell-bent on just one?
There is a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the coffee table. I glance at Tony to assess his eyes. Yep, he’s drunk. He runs his hands through his dark hair as I sit on the chair, then he leans his head back on the couch, raising an arm up into the air, and crashing his arm down. With a shout he says, “Screw bitches!”
“Yeah, that’s right. Screw ’em.” I laugh a little.
Tony slouches on the couch, and I help him to his feet. It pains me to see my friend this upset. And over a chick at that. As I carry him to his room, I realize I’ve been really wrapped up in myself the past few months. I’ve been just slipping by, not really noticing the world around me.
I throw Tony on his bed and shut the door. I head into my room and turn off the light. Exhaustio
n sets in from the beach party, while Vanessa’s body drifts up from my memory and I close my eyes. My body hardens at the thought of touching her. How soft would her skin be against mine? My dick thickens, the length growing underneath my gym shorts. Fuck me. This girl is going to be a lot of trouble. I just know it.
I picture her blonde hair, tumbling down her back, and I picture running my fingers through it. I close my eyes for just a second and reimagine her on me, kissing her way down my bare chest, as those sparkling blue eyes gaze up at me and her lips whisper seductively how she wants to suck me off. And then, her hands are on me, stroking my dick like the little expert minx I know she would be. Fuck. Even in my imagination, she is still the hottest woman in the world. It feels so real as I let my mind drift and run away with my fantasy about her sucking on my cock, taking my head between her perfect pout and licking the tip until I’m trembling with need. I’m so turned on, fuck, I can’t think straight. The only thing tumbling through my mind is Vanessa’s mouth on my dick.
I stroke harder, tugging my hard length as I lie in bed. “What do you want?” I imagine myself asking her.
“You,” she’d say. “I want you.”
I moan out a little, my body overheating at the thought of her.
She leans closer to my tip and then I can feel her breath on my skin. I look up and her eyes are staring up at me. She draws my cock closer to her and bites it slowly.
“Fuck.”
She laughs. “Not yet.”
If it were real, I would turn her over and take her right about now, but in my fantasy, I let her carry on, her mouth taking control, soft and wet. I close my eyes at the sensation of it all. It feels like fucking heaven. She hesitates for a second, and then it’s as if she starts to enjoy herself without any coaching. She starts to find her rhythm and relaxes and takes me in deeper and deeper.
Fuck, I can’t stop thinking about her. Can’t stop imagining myself with her. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. My stomach tightens, my orgasm so close.
Vanessa stares up at me in my dream, as she keeps pleasuring me with her mouth.
She’s so pretty, and my heart feels like it’s going to explode.
I’m gonna come. I’m going to come so hard, and nothing will stop the overwhelming need to fuck this girl. I’ve never jerked off this hard. I’ve never wanted a girl so badly. Her eyes. Her mouth. Her hot breath. Fuck.
I come when I think about her lips on me, and I can’t stop coming for a full twenty seconds. I can’t breathe as my body tries to relax after my orgasm.
I know one thing’s for certain, I need this girl. I need Vanessa badly.
The sun rises a little too soon, and I have a hangover. A bad one. Doesn’t help that I had a glorious jack-off session last night, courtesy of Vanessa. I stumble around my room as the light comes shining through the curtains and blinds me. Throwing on shorts and a T-shirt, I head into the kitchen. Darren is in the living room as I pass by. He calls out, “Hey, what’s up?”
“Coffee,” I grumble. My heart beats through my head, and my mouth is dry. I need my caffeine fix to help wake me this morning. Darren heads into the kitchen in his sweatpants and white tank top. Messy hair and crumpled clothes are sure-fire signs that he hasn’t been to bed.
“So, how was your night?” I ask.
“Got laid. That is always a plus. Did you get anywhere with Vanilla Vanessa?”
“Vanilla what?” I look over at him as I pour water in the coffee maker.
“We nicknamed her Vanilla Vanessa.” He laughs, but I don’t find the joke very funny.
“Well, actually, I have a date with her tonight, so I guess that’s good.” I turn the coffee pot on and wait for it to start.
It starts to percolate, and the smell of coffee fills the air.
“A date, fuck yeah.” He slaps me on the back and walks out of the kitchen.
I take the coffee and head to my room. The menial task of getting ready is a tad harder with a hangover, but I manage.
School isn’t going to attend itself. And let me tell you how much I actually hate being there.
Arriving at school a little early, I wander through the lecture hall building. My classroom is near the end. A few students mill around a department notice board in the hall. As I walk into class, my professor turns to me and says, “Good morning, Trace.”
“Hi, Professor Cahill.”
“Did you do the assignment?”
“You know I did,” I say with a cocky grin. Assignment? I head to my desk and open my book and notes. Written in my sloppy handwriting is a note about a paper due on what are the ethical actions of people in power.
The due date is written in bold print and circled three times. When I last shut this notebook on Friday morning and then left class, I never opened it again. I forgot all about it the moment I was free from that room. I shrug my shoulders and turn on my charm to get a make-up date.
“Professor Cahill,” I say, moving close to speak with him. His bald head shines in the fluorescent lights, his spectacles sit low on his nose, and he’s dressed in a tweed coat and classic bowtie.
“Yes, Trace.” We’re the only two people in the room so far.
Tapping a finger on his desk, I smile. “I’m wondering if, maybe, I can get a make-up date.” I rub the back of my neck.
“Oh no, did something happen?” A look of concern crosses his features.
Guilt thickens in my throat. I swallow and continue. “Actually, my father had me working for him this weekend.”
My father is on the board of the college, and everyone knows him. Bowing to him is a specialty of the staff, and I always use it to my advantage.
“Oh, I see. Okay, Trace, just try to have it done soon.” His smile reaches his eyes and I let out a sigh of relief.
“Absolutely, Mr. Cahill. I’m sorry.” I give him my most sincere grin and return to the desk.
After I listen to the professor drone on about ethics, class finally lets out. I’m headed down the hall to my next class when I spot Jordan walking my way. He’s on the phone and appears angry.
“No! No! I said it should have been delivered by today,” he barks into the phone.
He continues to rush down the hall, and I have to dive out of his way to avoid a collision. He doesn’t even see me as he passes, still yelling at the top of his voice.
I had two hours before my last class of the day. Heading to the coffee shop on campus, I plug in my earbuds and pull out my Calculus book. Study time, or at least that’s what I should be doing.
A few friends of mine are in my next class, but it’s also the class where I met Hailey, and I’ve been dreading seeing her.
How am I supposed to even face her? I won’t let that bother me. I want Vanessa now, and Hailey has known what we are since we first started fooling around.
It’s crazy that jerking off last night was even a million times better than any night I’ve ever had with Hailey.
And speak of the devil, Hailey walks over and raises her arms around my neck.
“Hi there,” she says, kissing my cheek, her smile too big for this early. Her brown hair falls over her eyes, and she removes a hand to brush it back in place. Then, she wiggles into her seat in tight, pink shorts.
Craig and his friend, Ashton, stride over, and I nod my head.
“Hey, Trace, are you coming out with us later?” Craig says, ogling Hailey’s low-cut shirt as she reaches into her book bag.
I, however, turn and look away. I’ve seen all there is of Hailey, and nothing she can do can impress me anymore.
Hearing this, she pops up her head. “Oh yeah, where are you guys heading?”
“A bar downtown. Sofa Kings,” Craig says, smiling back.
“Sofa Kings? Never heard of it,” she says, flinging her hair over her shoulders.
Ashton chimes in, smiling. “Ya know, Sofa Kings, where the drinks are sofa-king cheap, and the girls are sofa-king hot.”
She laughs, hearing the play on word
s, and it makes my skin crawl. Has she always been this annoying? Craig and Ashton wait for my answer.
“Nah, man, can’t tonight,” I say, pulling out my book.
“Oh right, he’s got a hot date. Darren told me about it earlier.”
“Glad my personal life is so important to everyone.”
“Well, yeah, after Friday night. We all wanna know how it’s going. How is she?” Craig asks, leaning in closer.
I cringe, hearing his words, and chance a glance at Hailey. She frowns, wondering what we’re talking about. Shaking my head, I grumble, “Shut the hell up.”
“Why don’t you bring her by?” Craig laughs.
“Like hell I will.” I slam my book, letting everyone know how done the conversation is. I turn in my seat, and Craig and Ashton plop down on the desks near me. Hailey opens a notebook and takes out a pen, as the professor tells us to get ready for the lesson.
After class is dismissed, I rush to get out without explaining anything to Hailey, Craig, or Ashton. I bolt out of the door but am not fast enough.
“Hey, Trace! Wait up,” Hailey calls, rushing to catch me. She slings her backpack over her shoulders and runs her hand through her long hair.
Reluctantly, I turn around, not really wanting to talk to her because I’m pretty sure I know what she wants. “What’s up?”
“So, what are you doing tonight? Did you want to go to Sofa Kings?” She smiles, batting her eyelashes, attempting to turn me on.
Did she not hear the conversation in the classroom?
“Can’t tonight, I’m busy.” I turn to walk away, and she reaches out to grab my arm.
“Well, don’t keep me waiting too long. We used to have a lot of fun together, remember?”
“Listen, you’re a blast, but right now is not a good time. My dad has me starting some summer internship.” Hey, it’s not a lie.
“Oh, okay.” She turns to walk away, and I breathe out the breath I had apparently been holding onto.
