The Prom Queen's Sinner: Thornwood Small Town Forbidden Romance Book One

by J. E. Bradley

“Panties,” I tell her, using my fingers to hook into them at her hips. She lifts her buttocks and they peel away from her. I’m shocked that she shaves. Her bare pussy now awaits me, her legs bent on either side of me, and she looks up at me as if nervous at how I will react.

  “Do I...is it....” she laughs, not knowing how to continue.

  “You’re fucking beautiful,” I assure her, and then scoot her down on the bed so that she is laying there. I use my hands to part her legs further, and at first, she resists, but when I begin to massage her hips and thighs she relaxes. I sit back on my heels and can only stare in awe and near disbelief. Is this a dream? Am I really sitting here staring down at this girl’s pussy, her legs parted so that I can see the dewdrops of her excitement wet against her folds?

  “So fucking…” I lean down and kiss her stomach. “Gorgeous. Don’t ever question that.”

  I want to force my cock into that tight hole. But I won’t. Tonight is about her. I want her to have pleasure. In fact, I’d deny myself forever if that’s what it took for us to be together.

  My lips traverse her body skillfully. I leave trails of kisses, coming up to kiss her lips every so often. She smiles and breathes heavily. I watch her delicate chest rise and fall with the effort, and I cannot wait to see the contractions of her orgasm tense her taut stomach.

  “Women say that this is very enjoyable,” I tell her. “Please stop me if you don’t feel comfortable.”

  Then I lower my head between her legs. I kiss her mound, lick around her folds, suck her lips, and then use my fingers to part them.

  Her arms stretch above her to grab at anything, and her face is screwed up in intense concentration. Startled cries catch in her throat and I take this as encouragement to continue. When my tongue meets her clit, she cries out. And I smile against her flesh, the taste of her warm and fragrant, outrageously delicious. I lick at her opening, kiss, and then swirl my tongue up and around her clit again. She reaches out and her hands scratch over my back.

  “W-Wyatt,” she moans softly.

  Yes, honey. You’ll be chanting my name by the end of this.

  I coax her clit, taking note of what she seems to like the most. Then I do those things. I don’t bring my fingers anywhere near her vagina but just focus solely on giving her this orgasm.

  She moves her pussy against my face and I try to keep up. She must be close. I grip her ass and suck her clit, using my tongue to flick and tease, and then she suddenly begins to spasm all over.

  “Oh my- Oh- W-Wyatt....Wyatt!” she nearly screams.

  I continue to suck her, licking her swollen clit again and again, allowing her to claim every last morsel of pleasure. She’s gasping and moaning, gripping my shoulders, her body contorted and tense as the explosion of pleasure cascades and then dwindles to a low hum.

  “Good girl,” I mutter against her, and then kiss her pussy and draw myself up beside her again. Her head is dropped back on the pillows, eyes shut, black hair a mess around her head, tiny beads of sweat glistening in her hairline. And she’s...smiling.

  “I love when you say that,” she tells me without moving.

  I smirk, and then hold her close against my chest, my cock throbbing painfully in my boxers. I will have to relieve myself later, but for now, all I want is to hold her in my arms. To burn this moment into my memory.

  “Then I’ll say it more often,” I retort, and she exhales a satisfied breath before snuggling in close to my chest, her naked body sticking to mine. Sleep seems nearly impossible, but there she is, her breathing slowing, her body relaxed, completely defenseless, unlocked, unlaced, unbound.

  Now that I’ve gotten a taste of the forbidden fruit, there’s no turning back. Eden was never really the kind of place I wanted to stay, anyway.

  Savannah

  The morning after. I don’t feel dirty or bad. It’s not like with Derrick, how there was a wrongness forged inside me during our experience. All I can think about is Wyatt’s hard-working body wedged between my thighs, his devotion shown through his rejection of his own desire. I knew it was there all along, and I feel guilty that I didn’t do anything to please him.

  These are the things I think about as I walk to school.

  Wyatt had left me coffee, eggs, and toast this morning, and a note laid across the empty plate that said:

  Have a good day at school. Be good. --Wyatt

  I’m giddy. I’m doing something against the predestined path, working against a fate and a nature that has been designed for me from the day I was born. Be pretty, Savannah. Be good, Savannah. Be smart, Savannah. Be moral, Savannah. Fit into the mold, Savannah. But now I, Savannah Zukair, have a secret that makes me different, that lessens the pressure and weight of every expectation placed upon me.

  I have him.

  ***

  When I arrive at school, Derrick comes cockily strolling toward me. I have to force a plastic smile onto my face when I see him.

  “Hey,” he says, reaching an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close for a quick kiss. (In front of all his friends, of course. What would be the point in kissing otherwise?). “How was your dad last night?”

  “He was fine,” I say, twisting myself out of his hold. I hate him. I hate everything about him and his fake, player-esque persona. He’s not even a real person, he’s just a shell. What saddens me more maybe is that he doesn’t even care about changing, but maybe that will come with time. We’re all stupid when we’re young, aren’t we?

  “Is something wrong?” he asks.

  “Nope,” I smile, unlocking my locker and exchanging the books in my backpack for the ones I will need this morning for English. “Not at all. Actually, I feel great today.”

  There’s a flash of something like shock on his face, and his brows lift up in passive-aggressive humor. Yet, he says nothing.

  “Do you have your costume for the Halloween party yet?” I ask him.

  “Oh yeah. A vampire will be easy. Fake teeth, fake blood…” he crosses his arms over his chest and seems impressed with himself. “I’ve got it covered.”

  “Perfect.” My word is short, and I turn away from him when Elaina, Kaitlyn, and Greta arrive. They know that Derrick and I have finally broken the seal on my vagina, and they’ve been texting me non-stop. They want to hear all about it, how it was, how I’m feeling-- the whole nine yards. But truthfully, the memory of that night is something I don’t want to ever go back to.

  “Bye babe,” Derrick squeezes my shoulder and heads off to join his jock friends.

  Each girl looks at me as if I’m a ghost they’re seeing for the first time. Then their faces crack into mischievous smiles.

  “Oh lord,” I roll my eyes and shake my head.

  The warning bell rings and we all start walking toward our morning class.

  “Well?” Elaina pushes. “Are you ready to talk? We’re dying to know! I can’t believe you ignored us for two whole days!”

  “I didn’t feel like talking about it at first,” I shrug, and laugh. “You guys better be ready for next Friday’s Halloween party at the old Thornwood hotel. Don’t you dare make me go dressed up alone.”

  “Oh shut up. You know we’re already going!” Kaitlyn snickers. “You’re avoiding the sexy storytime.”

  I wish they’d go away. Truly. It’s not like I have much to tell them, other than Derrick is a two-pump chump and gets off on me saying things like “no” and “stop” and doesn’t think even for one second about my own pleasure.

  “It was…” I swallow hard, memories of the experience tightening my chest with anxiety. But then images of Wyatt between my legs come to mind. Mr. Draper. My obscenely handsome secret. “It was so good. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”

  Each girl giggles with delight, and we part ways. Elaina links arms with me and we head to our first class together. Luckily she’s not as bent on peer pressure when we’re alone and she seems almost quiet.

  “Was it, though?” she asks me as we sit down at our desks, only a
few feet away from each other.

  “It was...fine,” I tell her.

  “I never asked. Did you confront him on what Olivia said?” She gives me a flirty wiggle of her eyebrows.

  “Yeah,” I say, swiveling my chin down to look at the familiar cover image of my literature book. “I think he’s cheating, El.”

  Her eyes widen into giant black fringed saucers and she leans forward on her desk, lowering her head when she whispers.

  “Then why in the hell did you have sex with him?” Elaina chastises, fresh fury skirting through her face. “I mean, are you joking?”

  “I didn’t want Greta and Kaitlyn to know. It’s an awkward subject,” I say, and swallow. “He promised he didn’t, but I don’t know what to think. He’s been coming to school early every morning super early and is lying about something. I guess it could be anything.” I blow out a heated breath, despising the reality of my situation. Sometimes it’s easier to pretend. Maybe that’s why everyone does it.

  “But if you don’t know, why are you still with him?” she questions. I know she hates my answers, but there’s nothing else I can say to make it make sense to her. It’s one fucked up whirlpool of crappiness.

  “I know it doesn’t make sense. I’m...handling it,” I say, maintaining the whisper.

  Elaina rolls her eyes and then starts to laugh.

  “Whatever you say. You know what’s best. Hey Zukair, if you decide to dump him before next weekend, the girls and I will be your dates to the Halloween party.”

  The suggestive twist of her lips inspires similar laughter from me, and I cross my arms and sit back in my seat just as our old bedraggled English teacher enters the room, her gray hair frizzing, yellow nails clasped around her overflowing bag.

  “I’ll think about it,” I tell her, and she winks at me, flipping her hair over her shoulder before opening her textbook and notebook in preparation.

  Elaina gives me one last cheery smile before we dive into our work.

  Savannah

  I’m going to be at Derrick’s tonight, I text dad.

  I’m going straight home tonight. My dad’s been throwing a fit, I text Derrick.

  I’m wicked, aren’t I? But the beauty of the arrangement is that I can have what I want most. I’ve never felt so independent and free. The nature of the beast makes me sweat with fear, but I also can’t stop myself. I’d never stop myself from arriving on Wyatt’s doorstep. Not now.

  I’m coming over tonight, I text Wyatt.

  Pull your car into the garage. There’s a key on the red toolbox, he responds. I’ll be home in an hour.

  I know he means for me to hide it so no one can drive past and see that I’m there. And it is wrong, I couldn’t ever deny that. But I’m too giddy with excitement, too wrapped up in the feelings to entertain the possibility of being discovered. Maybe that’s what makes it that much more enticing, never knowing if someone will find out that I’m obsessed with a man old enough to be my dad. It’s supposed to be wrong. It’s supposed to oppose what’s acceptable for a girl like me. But the further I go, the more I realize that I have choices. Choices I never realized that I’d had before.

  I do as he says and pull the car into the garage. I shut it behind me and then find the key and enter his home. The silence is nearly unsettling, and I glance around the space, light coming in through the front windows and illuminating tiny particles of dust. It’s a melancholy home, exactly the tone that lives in Wyatt’s skin. I wish I could lift it and see the man beneath. Maybe this should be my goal.

  My phone starts to ring and I take it from my backpack, surprised when I see my dad’s number on the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Savannah?” His voice snaps through the phone line. “The guidance counselor called me and told me you skipped classes a few weeks ago. He said he’s worried about you..”

  “Oh…” I let a shuddering breath out, at a loss for what to say. “I don’t—”

  “Don’t speak. Just listen. You come home now. Right now.”

  I’m so confused. Why would the guidance counselor wait this long to call him? Why call him at all if it’s already been almost a month? My heart is pounding with sick wriggling anxiety, and I swallow hard.

  “I’m already at Derrick’s,” I lie smoothly. “Krista’s almost done making dinner. We were going to do our nails tonight, she already has everything set up.”

  “I don’t care!” He screeches through the phone. “Get your ass home!”

  I flinch at his harsh voice and find that I’m shaking.

  “N-no. I’m not leaving now. It’s already six. I’m eighteen Dad. You can’t control me forever,” I say, every molecule of my body vibrating in fear, and subsequently, newfound courage. “I was only gone for two periods. I was getting my car fixed. I didn’t want to stress you out by telling you.”

  “If you don’t come home right now, there will be severe, severe consequences,” is all he says, and then he hangs up the phone.

  Damn. Will he go to Derrick’s? I doubt he would ever follow through enough to drive all the way out there. In the year that Derrick and I have been dating, he’s never once come to their house. He’s met Krista and Charles in passing and has taken what he thinks of them from the gossip around town, but he’s always avoided going there. It’s a gamble for me to stay here. If either of them found out I was somewhere else, what would I say?

  I know that when I do eventually get home that he will follow through on his promise on there being severe consequences. What will it be this time? A beating? No food for a week? I cling tightly to the fact that I’ve finally been able to stand up for myself. In fact, I nearly feel blissful; high on the adrenaline. Yet, I know that I could ruin everything for Wyatt if someone found out.

  What if I told Elaina? What if she was my backup plan? I file through my options, noting that there is nearly none. The only true option is to make it through Senior year and move out. Then what? Leave Wyatt? Is this destined for failure? I run my hands through my dark hair and then cross them over my chest as I go to sit on the couch.

  And I sit there, silently, captured in thought, until Wyatt arrives.

  “Savannah,” he acknowledges me, and I have the same thrill I always feel when I notice his deep hazel eyes slide over me in appreciation. It’s something that feels dangerous, seductive, and inspiring. But I’m still reeling from the conversation with my dad, and when I smile at him, he frowns.

  “What is it?” he asks.

  “Nothing…” I start to say, but then shake my head and drop it into my hands like a bowling ball, closing my eyes in defeat. “My dad found out that I skipped a while back. He’s really upset.”

  Wyatt walks toward me, eyes narrowed in thought. He must think this is a ridiculous problem to have to deal with.

  “Do you need to go home?” he asks.

  “No…” I say, then fiddle with my nails, hating how weak this makes me look. “I mean, I don’t want to. He promised me there would be consequences. I’m not in a hurry to find out what they are.”

  Wyatt bites his lip and I notice that he is streaked with grease and sweat. His shirt is stained with dirt and oil, and his jeans reflect the same. He swipes a hand over his face and then looks down at me as if I’m so much more trouble than I’m worth.

  “Don’t tell me to leave,” I snap.

  “I wasn’t going to…” he says, and his gaze travels up my body longingly. “I know you’ll talk more about what’s going on with him when you want. But right now, I really need a shower. I was going to ask you to join me.”

  My panties feel the instant effect in the desperate slickening of my pussy. I swallow and cross my arms over my chest.

  “You’re not worried he’ll find out about us?” I ask curiously.

  “No. I trust that we’ll both have to make risky decisions,” he says with equal amounts of harshness. He shrugs, moving forward slowly. “And right now? All I really want is to see you naked again.”

  My heart
trembles as if it’s not built to bear the kind of attention he’s giving me. I feel embarrassed, sexy, delicious, and afraid all at once. But the fear is a good fear, the kind that pushes you and makes you bite your tongue to hold back screams of excitement.

  “I’d like to see you too,” I admit, and lift from my seat on the couch.

  We stare at one another in challenge and I see the muscles in his neck shift as he swallows.

  Do I really affect him that much? The way he looks at me makes me feel like the most beautiful woman on earth like his hazel eyes would pin me down and examine every single inch of my naked skin all to pray thanks to god for everything that I am. But I feel the same about him...I’m smitten by both his looks at the austere unknown. And I want to know. I want to unravel him bit by bit, just as he unravels me.

  He makes a noise like a grunt and closes the space between us.

  “I thought about you today.”

  The inch between our faces gives me just enough room to breathe him in, to inhale the delicate balance of our wills.

  “What did you think about?” I whisper, nearly shivering with delight.

  “Your eyes,” he reaches out and lets his thumb slide against my cheek, staring down at me. “Your lips. Your pretty breasts. The way you moved when I was sucking and licking you until you came…” he takes a deep breath, leans in, and kisses my cheek. “And I thought about the way you tasted as I jerked myself in my break room.”

  I hold my breath, nearly falling over. Instead, I lean into him and nod with understanding.

  “I…” I gasp, and he wraps strong fingers around my upper arms. “I’d like to see that.”

  “Would you?” he asks, genuinely intrigued.

  I nod, and he lifts me up so that I am able to wrap my legs around his taut waist and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He grips my hips possessively, and we shuffle quietly towards the stairs. He lifts me as if I weigh nothing, and carries me up the stairs, glancing down once or twice to be sure of his footing, and then his eyes once again find mine. They burn me with their intensity.