by Ella Goode
“I’ll look at it,” Berkley grits out before I can respond. I watch his hand ball into a fist. I’m just happy he isn't holding another pencil. I think this pandemic is starting to get to him as much as it is Davis.
“I’ll text you later?”
“Yeah, sure.” Syracuse looks as confused as I am about Berkley’s tone, but it’s not completely abnormal for him. What's more abnormal if you ask me is the amount he is talking at all.
“You don’t need to text him. I said I’ll fix it.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, not wanting to fight with him in front of everyone. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. When I get a look at my red face in the bathroom mirror I know I have to get out of here. I’ll ask Syracuse and Mike if I can ride with them. I decide this before I exit the bathroom, but they are already gone.
“I’ll take you home,” Berkley says as we stand alone in his game room except for one snoring Davis, who is dead to the world again. I should have listened to myself. Yep, this was a bad idea. I was setting myself up for more heartbreak.
Chapter Nine
Berkley
“Why am I fixing this?” I grumble as I wiggle a few cables inside the massive hard drive that is Chandler’s busted computer. I don’t know shit about computers, but I wasn’t about to let Syracuse have some alone time with Chandler. The only solo time she spends is going to be with me, which is why I’m here at her kitchen table while she’s making dinner.
“Because it’s your fault that it broke,” she retorts.
I bend over the computer to hide my confusion. I don’t remember causing this, but it’s possible. I think back to our past conversations, trying to pinpoint the moment that I had done something to cause her to knock her computer over and ruin it. And if I was at fault, why didn’t she accept the laptop? Her responses baffle me a lot. “There are some loose cords, but it’s still not responding. I think it’s busted.”
“Really?” She sounds genuinely upset.
“Yeah. It starts up and then stops. You can hear it grinding.” I press my ear against the hard drive.
Chandler abandons the ravioli and comes over to my side. She bends down to listen. Her head is so close to mine. I can smell the mint of her gum, the strawberry lotion she buys at the candle store. Her breasts dangle down, swaying right above my hand. I close my fingers into a fist so I don’t accidentally touch her.
“You should’ve just accepted the laptop,” I say quietly.
“I don’t like charity.”
“It’s not charity. It’s my fault you needed it, remember?”
She turns her head and I find that our mouths are inches apart. “I was joking.”
Her lips are so plush and kissable. The lower lip has this tiny divot that invites me to run my tongue along it. A ragged, shaky breath escapes me. I gulp and try to speak. “Chandler.”
“Berk…”
My name comes off her tongue like a plea. My mind doesn’t process what she’s asking, but my body does. The thing is when you have money, generally speaking, there isn’t a thing in the world that’s off-limits. When you do come across something that you can’t have, you have no coping mechanism because you’ve never been told no. That’s how I feel around Chandler—defenseless with no way to deal with all the emotions she stirs inside of me. It should be as easy as seeing, wanting, having, but instead I see, know I can’t have, and live each day with a hunger that can’t be appeased.
And what happens when you wave a piece of meat in front of someone who hasn’t eaten for weeks or months or years? Exactly. I pull her down onto my lap and smother her mouth with mine. Her hands land on my shoulders, light and uncertain. Maybe that should’ve been my signal to stop, but I don’t. I shove my hand into her mass of hair and angle her head so I can penetrate her mouth deeper. I tongue her deeply, tracing every ridge and recess, memorizing her taste, her feel. My other hand grips her ass and pulls her tightly against my rigid cock.
I’m so hard right now and so ready to explode. I start moving her, showing her how to grind against me. She moans into my mouth, and explosions shoot off behind my eyelids. Blood drains from my head to my dick. I want to come so badly. I need to come, but I also want to suck on her tits and stick my head between her legs and lap at her juices until she’s dry. I want to bend her over this table and take her so hard that the wooden legs buckle. I want her to ride me with her tits bouncing in my face. Fuck. My mind is galloping a hundred miles an hour.
I drop my hand out of her hair and reach under her shirt. Her skin feels hot under my palm. I skate up her side. She shivers and leans forward, her tits brushing against my chest.
I clench my ass cheeks together to keep from nutting right then and there. She’s kissing me back, holding my face between her hands. I don’t need to direct her hips anymore. She’s riding me like I’m an old horse she’s been cantering around on for years. We’ve got a rhythm going, her jean-clad pussy rubbing up against my jean-clad dick. I slide my other hand up her back, holding her close to me. My head tips back as she rises above me, her hair falling like a curtain—just like it did with Davis.
Davis.
My brain short-circuits. Davis.
Fuck.
I stand up abruptly, setting her on her feet and then jumping away to face the window. My breath is coming in harsh, uneven pants. I glance down, and there’s a wet spot growing on my jeans. It’s not from me...oh Christ, she was so wet from our messing around she leaked through her jeans. I almost fall to my knees. Instead, I cover my eyes as if somehow I can blot out the image of her, us.
“Get out.”
“This is my house!” she gasps.
“Then go to your room. I can’t look at you.” Because if I do, I will forget that Davis is my best friend and that you’re his girl. If you can’t be strong, then I need to resist for both of us.
“You can’t look at me?” she repeats in disbelief.
I can hear her hurt, and it’s like a knife to my own heart, but if I weaken now, if I give in now, there’s no going back. I’ll carry her to her bedroom, strip off her clothes, and drive my dick so deep inside her pussy that it will be ruined for all other men.
“No. I can’t. Now go.” I don’t hear any movement. “Go!” I roar and then, because staying in her presence for another second is too much temptation, I tear out of the house.
Chapter Ten
Chandler
My whole body throbs with a need like I’ve never felt before. I don’t know if I want to scream or cry. One thing I do know is that Berkley wants me. What I don’t understand is why he is pushing me away. One second I think he’s looking at me as if he wants to eat me alive and the next he’s running for the hills. The mixed signals he’s sending me are making me crazy.
I reach up and touch my lips, which are still tingling from the way his mouth took mine. He’d held me so tight to him. I’d felt every part of his body against mine. Especially when I was in his lap with his erection rubbing me where I needed it the most.
I’d felt sexy and delicate at the same time. The sounds that came from him had me being bolder as I tried to take what I’ve wanted for so long. Until he took it all away. Now I’m sitting here alone again with my head spinning because of Berkley. Did he really think he could kick me out of my own house? My brain can’t even begin to process what he’d been thinking.
When I hear the timer in the kitchen going off, I have no choice but to leave my bedroom. I still can’t believe that I fled to my bedroom simply because he barked an irrational order at me. Yet, I didn't miss my body’s reaction to his order either. It didn't matter that it wasn't a sexual one. I wanted to do it because he told me to. I shake my head, not even understanding my own thoughts at this point. That boy has me all twisted up.
I flip off the sauce when I enter the kitchen. Raviolis are Mom’s favorite, and they are super easy to reheat and still taste great. I lean against the counter, wondering what I should do next about Berkley.
Nothing
. I’m not going to chase him around. That’s not the girl that I want to be. I already put myself out there, and he pushed me away. Not to mention he didn’t even bother to be nice about it. I refuse to be one of those girls I always see following Davis around with puppy dog eyes. Could I already be one and not know it? I groan, praying that I’m not that far gone already.
I snatch my phone off the table, needing some air. I open the backdoor and am about to flip on the light but pause when I see Berkley standing outside. The backyard is lit up by the full moon. He’s still here. I guess he could have left and come back. I drop my hand from the light switch, taking a step outside.
“Are you okay?” I ask. He lets out a humorless laugh at my question.
“Take the laptop.” He points to the laptop sitting on one of the chairs on the back patio area. I shake my head no. “Take the laptop.” He growls out the words this time while taking a step closer to me. Earlier, when I’d teased that he was the reason my computer broke, it was partially true. It was his fault I had to go to such extremes to get some alone time with him.
“Why do you care so much?”
“You need it.”
I stand there not saying anything. “Syracuse is not coming over here,” he bites out as once again he takes another step in my direction.
“Why?”
“You know why.”
I think I do. He’s jealous. At least that’s what I am hoping. If that is the case, then it has to mean something. I want to hear him admit it, though, so I shake my head no again. “He’s fucked half the girls in our school.”
“Are you sure? I haven't been counting but that seems excessive.”
Berkley grabs the back of his neck, giving it a squeeze, something he does when he’s getting pissed about something. “You’ll take it.”
I suck in a breath at the edginess in his tone.
“Okay.” I give.
“Okay?” He gives me a look of disbelief.
“Yeah, okay. But—”
“And there it is. I knew that was too fucking easy.” He drops his hands to his sides. “Give me the but.”
“I want to ask you three questions.” I hold three fingers up, wiggling them. “And you’ll have to answer them truthfully for me to keep the laptop.”
“Deal,” he says instantly. I wonder if he realizes he’s slowly moving closer and closer to me. “Give me them.”
“Did you call me sweetness on the phone the other day?”
“Yes.” He doesn't miss a beat but also doesn't give me more. I lick my bottom lip.
“Do you want me?”
“More than my next breath.” I reach up, putting my hand on my chest. I swear my heart just fluttered.
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s not a question, Chandler.”
“I like sweetness more.”
“Me too.” This time it’s me that moves closer to him. I always want to be closer to him. Davis has always made me feel safe, been there when I needed him, but with Berkley it’s different. I want to share things with him that I’ve never shared with anyone else. I want to explore this connection we have between us.
“Why do you keep pushing me away if you want this too? I’m not going to chase you, and you will lose me.” I add in the last part wanting to make myself very clear. This feels like a make it or break it moment, and I want that out on the table now. I can’t keep doing this with him.
“You’re Davis’ girl.” It takes him a few moments to get those words out. You would think it was the most painful thing he’s ever had to say.
“I’m his friend. I’m most definitely not his girl. Not in the way you're implying anyway. At the moment I’m no one’s girl.” In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s girl. I don't say that out loud so as to not highlight my own lameness. Truth be told, I’ve never wanted to be someone’s girl until Berkley. “I’d be your girl.” I decide to lay it all out there.
“Don’t say that shit. I can’t handle it.” He clears the last few steps between us, pulling me into his big body. I go willingly.
“You were serious when you asked if I was kissing Davis tonight?” It hits me. “You’re the only one I’ve kissed tonight, Berkley. In fact you’re the only person I’ve ever kissed period. The only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” He looks at me with a shocked expression. I almost want to laugh.
“Would you kiss me again?” I ask. “I guess that’s four questions, and now I’m rambling. I just don't—” He cuts me off, lifting me off my feet. My legs wrap around him as his mouth finds mine as he gives me the answer I’ve been waiting for.
Chapter Eleven
Berkley
“I hate this,” Davis moans.
I look up from my laptop at my friend. He tosses his iPad aside and rolls over on his back. “This year should just be a skip. No classes, no obligations. If we’re going to stay inside and see no one but the same five people for three hundred and sixty-five days, we should be allowed to just eat chips and watch Netflix.”
“Are you saying you want to Netflix and chill with me, bro, because I thought you would never ask,” I joke, leaning over to pat him on the ass. I wink at Chandler, who giggles and ducks her head.
“Let me in on some of that,” shouts Syracuse. He drops the driver he was using to hit golf balls into the net my old man set up last week and runs over to jump on top of Davis.
“Get off,” Davis groans. Syracuse weighs at least two hundred pounds. It’s muscle, but dense. I shrug him off. Syracuse falls to the side, next to Davis, leaning on an elbow in that draw me like one of your French girls pose.
“How long do you think this is going to last?”
“Hell if I know,” Davis mumbles into his arms. He’s been down ever since football was canceled. Unlike me, Davis needs people. He likes being the star quarterback with all the attention that comes with it. When he walked down the halls at school, there were a million hands that would reach out and pat him on the back. I know because I followed behind him, watching it all in undisguised horror. Crowds make me anxious. That many people touching me would drive me absolutely batty, but Davis fed off of it. Now he’s only got four of us, and it’s not enough. I sneak a look at Chandler, and the worry in her eyes weighs on my shoulders.
“I’m going to check on the pizza delivery,” I announce, signaling silently for Chandler to follow me. She jumps to her feet.
“I need to go to the bathroom. Wait a sec.” She finds her shoes and joins me. We walk side by side toward the house, near enough that our hands brush as we move. I move away slightly so that I don’t give in to the temptation to join hands with her. A flash of hurt skips over her face.
“Sorry,” I say, wishing I could draw her into my arms. “But you’re too much of a temptation.”
Her mouth turns down at the corners, and I have to look away before I try to kiss her. We are only a few steps away from the house. I hurry my pace. Chandler must feel the same way because soon she’s next to me.
“Why’s your lawn so darn big?” she grumbles.
“Wish I knew.” I walk faster. She’s nearly running. Internally, I say fuck it. “Race ya,” I shout as I take off.
She screams, “No fair,” and I hear her laughter trailing behind me. She’s still giggling when she breaks the threshold of the French door leading into the sunroom. I pull her to the side and smother her mouth with mine. She melts like candy in the sun, leaning into my kiss. I’m hungry for her, so fucking hungry. It’s been a week since she admitted that she wasn’t Davis’ girl. We haven’t done much, just kissing so far. I’ve not sucked on her tits or fingered her pussy because she doesn’t seem ready for it. I don’t want to rush her and scare her off, but, fuck, the fantasies I’ve been having are so filthy. Every time I see her, I want to jump her bones, but we’re hardly ever alone these days. Davis is having a hard time, and we can’t abandon him. Like, what kind of people would we be if we went off and did our own thing? Shitty people, that’s the answer.
But still, I can’t stop wanting her. I drag my mouth off of hers to taste her jaw, the lobe of her ear, her throat.
“You’re going to mark me,” she gasps. Her hands knead my shoulders, pulling me tight.
“I know.” I want to. I want to paint her shirt with my name on it, put a collar around her neck that only I have a lock to. I want everyone to know she’s mine, but we can’t say a word and it’s fucking hard. Her pulse throbs, a clear invitation for my teeth. I slide my mouth down and bi—
“Berk! Bring some beer out.” Davis’ voice breaks through my lust-filled haze.
I drop my head onto Chandler’s shoulder and count to ten. My dick doesn’t relax, but I regain enough control that I don’t pull down Chandler’s jeans and stick my dick into her tight pussy while Davis is hollering for refreshments.
“Sorry,” Chandler whispers as I let her slide to her feet.
“Yeah, me, too.” Avoiding her gaze, I back away. Clearing my throat, I yell, “What else do you want?”
“No need to shout,” Davis says.
I jerk around to see Davis at the door. Chandler’s still leaning against the wall. She hops to attention and pulls her hair over one shoulder, looking guilty as shit. Davis winks at her. “Syracuse is trying to set me up with some girl from Crestville because he wants to bone her best friend, but I told him that my heart belongs to you.” He slings an arm around her shoulders. I tighten my grip on the refrigerator handle. “I’m gonna steal Chandler away. She needs to tell Syracuse about our ten-year plan.”
“What ten-year plan?”
This time it’s Chandler who avoids my eyes.
“Chandler and me are gonna get married in ten years if both of us are single,” Davis replies. He grins. “I’m counting on you, girl.”
“Right,” Chandler says weakly. She gives me a little wave. While Davis steers her out the door, I make a mental inventory of all the shit under the sink that could be used as poison. It’s a long list.
