The corners of his lips quirk as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking and more surprising, he acts, closing the space between our lips, his mouth pressing firmly against mine. I gasp and he takes full advantage, his tongue exploring my mouth as the taste of sweet oranges and chili explodes across my tastebuds. I moan into his mouth, unable to stop my reaction to him. Man, can he kiss.
One of his hands grips my hip, the other tangles in my curly hair as he pulls me closer, our bodies pressed tight against one another and everything else around me disappears.
Hoots and hollers to get a room cut through the fog of desire and I pull back, breaking the kiss. He releases me with obvious reluctance, his hand still firmly on my hip and a stunned expression on his face.
I’m breathing heavy, my heart racing. That was…I don’t know what the hell that was, but I’ve never been kissed like that. Never felt the need to clench my thighs together and curl my toes. Was it the same for him? I swallow hard and chew on my bottom lip. His gaze locks on my mouth and he licks his lips, my eyes tracking the movement. My hand reaches up almost as if it has a mind of its own, and my fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt needing to ground myself.
“You still want pretty boy over there?” he asks, tilting his head toward…what was his name?
I shake my head. Hell, no. I want him. This guy right here. If I’m going to lose my virginity to anyone, it should be him. Someone who makes me feel lightheaded after just one kiss.
“Good.”
Without another word he reaches for my hand and tugs on me to follow as he weaves his way through the crowd, heading toward what I think is a pool house. “Where are we going?” I ask, my voice coming out a little breathless, my lips still tingling from our kiss.
“Somewhere quiet,” he says over his shoulder and I notice he’s clutching his side and there’s a stiffness to his gate.
Is he okay?
I’m suddenly nervous. We’re going somewhere quiet which is good. Right? It’s what I want only I don’t even know this guy. Then again, that is kind of the point of tonight. Only… God. Come on, Bibiana. Stop being such a worrier.
Reaching the pool house, he opens the door and we both slip inside. The room is dark, some outside light filtering in through the sheer curtains. He drags me toward a sofa and sits, a soft hiss escaping his lips before he tugs me down beside him.
“Are you alright?”
The room is silent except for our breathing. I sit stiffly beside him, my fingers still laced with his as my eyes adjust to the darkness. His thumb rubs lazy circles across the back of my hand, then he shifts to face me.
“Just a sports injury. No big deal.”
I purse my lips. It’s summer. Sports have ended for the year. I guess it’s possible some practice over the summer months. I think football does maybe, but…
“Hey.” He pulls me closer. “Come here.”
He tugs me onto his lap, my thighs straddling his waist. His length presses against my core and I’m barely able to restrain myself from grinding against him.
He trails a finger along the side of my face, down my neck and settles it along the hollow of my throat. There’s something strangely intimate about the caress. “What’s your name?”
I hesitate.
“You holding back on me, mariposa?” I was right. Definitely Hispanic. His smile is both savage and sinful. There’s this energy to him that draws me in, but it also terrifies me. This is supposed to be a one-night thing. Good memories and a fun time, but nothing more. No attachments. But there’s something about him that tells me he’s someone I’d find myself easily attached to. It’s a good thing I’m only in Sun Valley for one more night. Wouldn’t want to become one of what I’m sure are his many admirers.
“Hardly, just, why not keep this interesting?” I suggest as casually as possible.
He raises a brow, shadows cast across his face from the moonlight filtering through the room. “You don’t wanna exchange names?” If anything, his grin widens.
I shake my head.
“What about phone numbers?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.
Another shake.
He chuckles. “Damn, mariposa. And here I thought I was the player.”
If he only knew just how inexperienced I was. Stepping into the role I’ve set out for myself, I rock my hips against him and he hisses, his eyes glazing over with lust. “You’re playing a dangerous game, mariposa.”
“Why do you keep calling me a moth?” I ask, a breathy quality to my voice.
He leans forward, nipping at the column of my throat. “Not a moth. A butterfly,” he murmurs. His hands find my hips and he presses me down against him, his hips thrusting upward to grind against my center. Electricity crackles between us. He tilts my chin, drawing my lips to his and fusing them together. Stars explode behind my closed lids and every rational thought in my mind floats away.
The more he kisses me, the drunker I am on his taste, and the more I want to throw caution to the wind. This feels good. Right. I don’t even know him, but somehow, my body does. It craves him, silently begging for me.
His fingers dig into me, his erection hot between my legs. I weave my fingers through the short strands of his hair, pressing my chest against his, but it isn’t enough. His kiss is drugging, pulling me deep into an abyss I have zero desire to escape. When his hands slip beneath the hem of my dress, tugging it over my ass and then my head, bearing me to his dark and hungry gaze, I offer no resistance.
His eyes grow hooded as he lasers in on my chest, a hand coming up to thumb over one taught nipple. I shiver and he grins. The satisfied smile of a boy who knows the effect he has on a girl. He leans forward, capturing my breast in his hot mouth, his teeth grazing my nipple as I rock against him. My body aching and desperate for more friction.
Between kisses, I tug off his shirt. Unbutton his jeans. It takes next to no time for the two of us to find ourselves naked, clawing at one another’s skin and he wastes zero time in retrieving a condom from his discarded jeans pocket and rolling it on before pulling me down on top of him and lining himself up with my core.
A part of me wonders if I should say something. Let him know I’m a virgin. I’ve heard the stories. I know there is usually pain the first time. But I can’t convince myself to ruin this moment. I want this. Unequivocally and desperately. I want this.
His cock nudges my entrance and I stiffen, bracing myself for what’s to come. His hard, thick length pushes inside of me with slow and measured thrusts. I gasp at the sensations as he stretches me to my limits, to the point where pleasure merges with the sharp bite of pain.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he hisses between clenched teeth.
My fingers dig into his shoulders as I seat myself on him. And when I feel that edge of resistance, that last layer of innocence I’m determined to stamp out, I don’t let myself think about it. I suck in a breath, steel myself, and press my hips down until he’s fully inside of me, pushing past the pain and focusing only on the pleasure.
He groans and slams his mouth against my own, consuming my cries and filling me up until I don’t know where I end and where he begins. “Your name, mi pequeña mariposa?” he prompts when I pull back to catch my breath. My little butterfly.
I ignore the question, chasing his mouth instead and shifting my weight on his shaft. A breath hisses between his teeth, but he holds me steady. “You’re a virgin.”
It isn’t a question, so I don’t bother responding. Instead, I do the only thing I can—no, the only thing I need—and move.
I rise above him until only the tip of his shaft remains inside me before sinking back down with deliberate slowness.
He drops his head back on the sofa, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Fuck, what are you doing to me?” His voice is guttural, coated in desire and laced with hunger.
I repeat the movement twice more before he lifts me in his arms, standing to his full height, my legs wrapping around his waist. He walks us
to a table, laying me back, our bodies never losing their connection.
“You’re playing with fire,” he cautions as he pulls out of me before flexing his hips and driving himself back in. Harder. Deeper. I writhe beneath him, uncertain if I’m desperate to get closer or trying to pull away.
My body is burning, my center slick with need as he thrusts into me again and again. Pressure builds inside of me making me needy and desperate for more. For all that he’ll give. “Maybe I want to get burned.”
He lifts one of my legs, drawing it up and over his shoulder as I hold the other tight, curled over his hip. His cock sinks deeper inside of me as he leans down, his mouth trailing wet kisses across my breasts, up my throat, and to my lips. He hits a deeper angle in this position. Every thrust and every pivot of his hips elicits new sensations.
The pressure inside of me continues to build until I’m spinning, unable to tell up from down. My visions blurs, stars explode behind my eyelids and my body jerks, jolts of pleasure spear through me without warning. He swallows down my cries until they become little more than whimpers and mewls, leaving me breathless and my body boneless.
My chest heaves. My body is slick with sweat and he’s still rock-hard inside of me. There’s something primal in the way he’s looking at me right now. His hungry stare drinking in my sweat-slicked skin and thoroughly fucked gaze.
“You shouldn’t have given me your innocence,” he says, a fierce glint in his eyes. “I’m going to ruin you for any man who comes after me.”
I bite my lower lip. Thank God I’m leaving tomorrow. This boy could easily become an addiction. This moment, these feelings, it’s more than I imagined. More than I ever anticipated. And a hell of a lot more than I’m ready for. But to hell with it.
“Do you worst.” I tell him.
His eyes flash. “Burn for me, mariposa. Burn.”
One - 18 months later…
I’m anxious. More anxious than I should be. I try on half a dozen shirts, hating all of them before I settle on a basic, long-sleeved, black t-shirt and an oversized hoodie, resigned to the fact that today just isn’t my day. None of my clothes look right on a body that doesn’t feel like it’s mine anymore. It’s been nine months. And while I’ve managed to drop most of the weight, I’m still…different.
My breasts are larger. My hips wider. I’m soft in places that were once firm and I just…I exhale a loud breath. I’ve changed. And not just on the outside. Clothes can only hide so much. There are times like now when I feel like an imposter trapped inside my own body.
Luis chooses that moment to wake, and I silently curse myself for my little outburst. Rushing over to his crib that’s positioned beside my bed, I lean down to pick him up, rocking him in my arms while making soft cooing sounds. A quick glance at the clock shows me I need to leave in fifteen minutes. If I’m late for my first day of school, so be it. Luis is more important, and I cherish these moments when it’s only the two of us so much.
He’s nine months old now, and my days of nursing my sweet little boy are numbered, especially with going back to school. I planned on getting my GED when we returned to Sun Valley, knowing Suncrest Academy would never take me back, but the public high school decided they’d accept my online alternative school credits. Surprisingly, I’m not as far behind as I thought, so I’ll have the pleasure of attending Sun Valley High. Yay. Can you sense my sarcasm?
If I survive the last six months of senior year, I get to graduate. Mom thinks it’ll be good for me. To find a sense of normalcy and be a teenager again. As if it’s that easy. The thought of leaving Luis, even just for classes, is a hard pill to swallow. In such a short amount of time, this little boy has become my entire universe.
I sigh and hug him close as he nurses. These moments are special. I know that. And despite having his face memorized, I still get lost staring into his eyes and have to stifle a smile at how unlike me my own son looks. His eyes are a dark rich brown unlike my cerulean blue. His hair a softer shade of chestnut than my raven black. He even has his father’s full lips and straight brows that make him look like he’s scowling more often than not.
But he’s precious, and he’s mine.
A pang of regret hits me in the chest when I think of how he might never know his father, who might never have him to show him how to throw a football or work on a car. I want those things for my son. I want him to grow up with two parents who love him. He deserves the full package. But…I don’t know who his father is. Not by name. And a physical description doesn’t get you very far.
When I found out I was pregnant, I had no way of finding the boy I gave a piece of myself to. No way of letting him know he was about to become a dad. All I know about him is that he lived in Sun Valley. And when I told Mom as much after those two little pink lines appeared, she decided it was for the best to just forget all about him.
A thrum of nervous energy courses through me at the possibility of seeing him again. Every time I leave the house, I scan the faces of the people around me, hoping for a glimpse of the boy who inadvertently changed my life forever.
He said he’d ruin me for any man who came after him. He wasn’t lying. Even after all this time, I still think back to that night. To the way he made me feel. Maybe I’ve built it up in my mind. I don’t know. But what I do know is that he left a mark. I realized that even before I found out I was pregnant.
Luis finishes nursing and I make quick work of burping him and changing his diaper before picking out his outfit for the day—a pair of soft black cotton pants and a red onesie—and head to the kitchen where I know my mother is waiting for me.
She sees me as soon as I step into the room, and her smile brightens when she catches sight of Luis in my arms. “Oh, he’s awake.” She holds her arms out. “Come to Grandma, amorzinho,” she coos. My little love. I can’t help my smile. She used to call me that when I was a little girl.
Luis pulls away from her at first. He can be clingy when he first wakes up, but after a few more softly spoken words and some bribery in the form of a banana, he relents.
Handing him to her, I grab a pão de queijo—a baked cheese roll, just as a honk outside alerts me that my ride is here.
“There’s breastmilk in the freezer and I have my phone on me. If he gets too fussy. I can always—”
“Go, Bibiana. We’ll be fine,” my mom tells me. I hesitate for a moment before the sound of the horn again jerks me into motion. I give Luis a kiss on the cheek, grab my breakfast, and head for the door. “Call me if—”
“Yes. I know, minha filha. I raised you, and you turned out fine. Stop worrying. Go. Have fun.”
Fun isn’t the word I would use to describe high school, but I keep my feelings to myself and hurry outside.
Jaejun Yu—Jae for short—is standing in my driveway beside a sleek, cherry red Acura TLX. He grins when he looks up from his phone and realizes I’m there before he rushes around to the passenger side to open my door.
“Thanks.” I offer him a tight smile and slide into the passenger seat, tucking my backpack between my legs on the floor as he jogs around the car to get back in. I hate when he does that. I know he’s being chivalrous or whatever, but it still feels weird. Like it means something more than it should.
“You all set?” he asks, a smile on his too-handsome face. He leans forward and tucks a strand of my curly black hair behind my ear, lingering a second longer than he should before settling back in his seat. “You look beautiful, Bibi.”
I fight my grimace and mutter out a thank you as I buckle my seat belt.
Don’t get me wrong, Jae is great. He’s kind and handsome and he’s always there to lend a helping hand like right now, taking me to school when he doesn’t even go to Sun Valley High. He isn’t even in high school. He graduated two years ago, so why he insists on driving me and wasting his time when I know he has classes at Suncrest U that he’ll be late for baffles me.
I sound ungrateful. I should probably work on that. It’s just that Jae tri
es really hard. All the time. We met at one of my mom’s boyfriend’s—Miguel’s—work events and we sort of hit it off. But in the let’s be best friend’s way, not the I want to date you way. I thought we were on the same page, but the more and more we’re around one another, I get the feeling that we’re not.
I have no idea why he’s even remotely interested in me. He’s interning with Miguel’s security firm while he finishes his degree, and he has his entire life laid out in front of him. Everything meticulously planned to ensure success.
He even has his own townhouse at twenty. He bought it when he was eighteen as an investment property shortly after graduation. Even as a teenager he had a plan. He’s smart. Responsible. Has a good head on his shoulders and probably has health insurance.
Meanwhile, I’m an eighteen-year-old single mom with zero plans for my future beyond making it to graduation. I want to do something with my life, sure. But I’m still very much in survival mode here. I don’t have the mental capacity to focus on anything or anyone beyond school and Luis and, let’s be honest, he could do so much better than me.
Mom likes to nudge me in his direction every chance she gets, but…I sigh. I’m not ready for that.
Jae’s an exotic kind of good-looking. Half Korean and half Italian, he has hazel eyes and dark brown hair worn long on top in a bun and shaved on the sides. He turns more than a few heads when he enters a room, and there is zero question as to why. His cheekbones are high and sharp, his jawline angular, and there’s just something striking about him that makes it hard to look away.
But I don’t have time for a relationship. And even if I did, I’m not sure I want one. No matter how much my mother pushes or how much I try to convince myself that I should give him a chance, I’m not ready to jump back on that particular horse. With my luck, the next person I sleep with will get me pregnant too. I snort. Okay, probably not thanks to the wonderful IUD I got after Luis was born, but still. Accidents happen and while I wouldn’t trade Luis for anything in the world, my days of being reckless are over. No more unplanned pregnancies for me, thank you very much.
Savage Devil: A Secret Baby, High School Bully Romance (Devils of Sun Valley High Book 2) Page 2
