Forever and Never

by Ella Fields

  I stared at him a beat and then felt my stomach flutter as that familiar excitement built.

  A grease-stained, muscular frame and a brunette girl swathed in false innocence caused my chest to squeeze.

  I bit my lip. Yes, I could do with a dose of Ellis McCoy right about now.

  He followed me inside and to the stairs, the doors closing with a boom that echoed down the quiet hall.

  Inside my room, I tugged off my dress and felt the air conditioning tighten my nipples behind the scratchy cotton of my bra.

  “You’ve toned down the rainbow,” Ellis said in that deep, unaffected tone of his as he shut the door behind him.

  Endless amount of color had once been my favorite mode of décor. But rainbows represented a time of innocence and naïvety that I longed to rip from who I was the second Ellis forced his way into my life.

  He’d known me since I was fourteen, but it wasn’t until I’d turned sixteen that the disinterested smiles he’d graced me with began to morph into something more serpentine.

  At first, I didn’t know what I felt or why my heart would race when he’d looked at me with such unfamiliar eyes. Then two months before I turned seventeen, I’d woken from a dream of him. Of us tangled together in my parents’ bed. My head spinning, my chest heaving, and the space between my legs damp and swollen.

  He’s married, I’d tell myself every time I’d see him. Because after each time, I’d dream of him again, and the results would have me servicing myself until I was satiated enough to fall back asleep.

  He had to be over a decade older than me, at least, I’d tell myself.

  He’s my mother’s boss, I’d tell myself.

  None of it mattered. In our world, even those who still had morals were corrupt in other less obvious ways.

  Like a fool, I’d cornered him in the bathroom and tried to kiss him one night when my parents had retired to bed, and some of my mother’s friends were still up drinking.

  I was met with a whiskered cheek, the scent of something ginger and alluring and strong, and hands gripping my hips.

  It was the way he’d looked at me as I’d stepped back—eyes ablaze with temptation and his hands opening and closing at his sides as though he could still feel the curves of my hips—that had me trying again six weeks later. That had my fascination free-falling into something more.

  If I’d learned anything about self-control, resolve, and playing hard to get, I’d learned it from Ellis McCoy.

  His attention, the heated look in his eyes alone, awoke something inside me. That something took over every thought and feeling I had whenever he was in the room.

  I wanted him.

  Yet even though I was certain he wanted me too, he’d ignored my every advance until after my seventeenth birthday. That was when everything changed, though it’d take me half a dozen visits before I finally got the memo that would add steel to my newfound defenses. The ones he’d forced me to construct.

  He wanted to play, but he didn’t want to touch.

  He wanted me, but he’d never allow himself to have me.

  My obsession with him was akin to scaling the highest of mountains. I’d almost reached the peak when I realized to do so was wasted doom, and with each visit, each ignored advance, I slid farther back down, erasing his hold on me more and more.

  Not enough to stop.

  Just enough to enjoy myself. To float among the illicit excitement that being with him still evoked. Because although I’d tried, I’d yet to come across anything or anyone that made me feel as potent as he did when I was wearing nothing but skin, so I was reluctant to kiss our crazy meetings goodbye.

  “You didn’t answer my last call,” he said, and I heard the telltale sound of his belt buckle unclipping.

  “I was busy.” I tried to think back to the last time he’d called me and realized it’d been the night Lars and I had kissed, when I was riding home in the back of an Uber. Wanting to swim among the tumultuous waters Lars had left me in, I’d ignored it.

  Perhaps if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have acted like some kind of jealous moron after what I saw today. Even if it was only for a second before I’d managed to cool my heated blood.

  Thinking of Lars as I turned and unclipped my bra, Ellis’s smoldering gaze stuck to my c-cup breasts, should’ve had me feeling a certain way.

  And I suppose it did.

  I wanted to think of him.

  I wanted to think of him in this very room, watching as I did what I wanted, uncaring of his stupid attempts to gain my attention.

  To gain my body.

  It wasn’t up for grabs. Which, of course, was fine with Ellis, who pulled out his cock and grabbed the bobbing thickness with his large hand. “On the bed, princess, legs spread.”

  I knew the drill, so I merely smiled. One could say I was giving up power as I lay down on my satin cream sheets and slowly tugged down my panties, but I’d never felt more powerful under his molten gaze. Beneath the waves of control he tried so hard to keep from barreling into nothingness.

  It was a game. A delicious, taunting game that never quite satiated, but rather, it made every encounter more charged than the last. Especially because we’d sometimes go weeks or months without seeing one another. Alone.

  My eyes skittered around my room, taking in the bareness of it and the stark cream and gold cleanliness only broken by my small amount of personal items.

  Ellis moved toward the foot of the bed until his knees touched the bedding. His dress shirt rising and falling over his heaving chest as his hand moved up and down his cock.

  My panties now on the floor, I traversed my body, my hands gliding over my breasts and stomach before meeting the tops of my thighs, and then I slowly opened them for him.

  His breath escaped him in a rough exhale, and his hand squeezed his length.

  My fingers parted my flesh, and I moaned as I found myself wet and ready to play.

  “You’re not going to ask me to kiss you?”

  I licked my lips, my eyes hooding as his struggled to find a place to focus. My body, my cunt, or my mouth. “I no longer wish to kiss you.”

  It appeared he was more shocked by the admission than I was. His brows furrowed and his shoulders stiffened, which I delighted in. I had Lars to thank for that much at least.

  Because no, I had no desire to kiss this married man standing before me anymore.

  I had no desire to let myself remain lost in some kind of forbidden crush anymore.

  I simply wanted the feelings he evoked to drown me in waves of pleasure. I sought only the want and desperation that leaked from his very pores. That heady feeling of being desired to the point of damnation.

  “Are we playing? Or should I continue without you?” I circled myself once, twice. “You already know I don’t care if I’m the only winner.”

  Ellis cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple shifting as he blinked. His eyes moved to my hands, to the finger I sank slowly inside my body, and that crooked grin appeared. “I’m sure I can catch up.”

  I smiled and then moaned when he began to pump his shaft, and I used my other hand to rub myself.

  Lars

  Nice words.

  I curved the tip around the outer line of the S and then stared at the sketchpad, the scent of marker wafting off the page to stain the air.

  I’d drawn clouds of cotton candy around the two words, all the while I’d pondered exactly what I’d have to do to get this girl to give me a fucking chance.

  I’d known she’d be coming to the garage yesterday. I’d been the one to help Boyd work on her car.

  And I’d been the one to text Ruthie before my lunch break, telling her to swing by and say hi on her way home from shopping.

  It would seem Daphne Morris didn’t play the way I’d predicted.

  What I’d thought, or hoped, she’d do, I wasn’t exactly sure.

  Get jealous, maybe. Demand I be the only one to give her attention. Dive on top of Ruthie and throw her tiny ass to the grou
nd for touching something she so desperately wanted.

  I was beginning to think I was the only desperate one here.

  “I’m heading into work,” Mom called to my cracked open bedroom door.

  “Okay. Bye, Ma.”

  I heard her huff, and I quickly shut the sketchpad when she appeared in the doorway. “You’re drawing again.” The disapproval in her tone couldn’t be checked, though I knew she tried.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Got some things on my mind.”

  My candidness had the small creases by her eyes and lips softening. “That same girl?”

  I smirked and ducked my head. For years, she’d had me pegged, but she’d never forced me to give up her name.

  “No girl. I’m fine.”

  “Uh-huh.” She laughed. “You say the same thing every time, you know? There are curried sausages in the fridge.” A brow arched. “If you go out, don’t be stupid.”

  I nodded, and she left.

  It wasn’t that I’d been graced with the coolest Mom on the planet. She’d simply been left with no choice once she realized I was going to party and hang out with my friends more these past few years. And so although she still didn’t approve, she’d changed her tune to that of a worried mother rather than wear herself out with new ways to keep me contained.

  It worked. I’d get hammered at times, sure, but I’d always stress about what it would do to her if I’d wound up in jail, or hurt, or worse.

  I put my shit away when my phone beeped, then quickly rushed to the bathroom to shower.

  Jackson’s truck was already outside, Dash’s arm hanging out the passenger window with a cigarette dangling between his fingers. “Get in, loser. We’re going partying.”

  I climbed into the back, nodding at Raven, who was on the phone. “Been watching Mean Girls again?” I clipped on my seat belt and cursed as Jackson peeled away from the curb and immediately threw a U-turn.

  “Don’t knock it till you …” His cigarette fell from his fingers, flying past my closed window as he stopped and turned to grin at me. “Well, well.” He tutted. “Look who’s also watched it.”

  “At chicks’ houses while I’m waiting for them to suck my dick.”

  “Same, old timer. Same.” He turned back around and began fussing with the dials.

  “How many times do I need to tell you?” Jackson whacked Dash’s hand away. “Don’t fucking touch.”

  “So sensitive,” Dash mocked, then rolled up his window. “Who cares if the dial faces east or north anyway? Just like our junk, they’re made to be fucked with.”

  Rave chuckled, said goodbye to whoever he’d been muttering to, then leaned forward to pocket his phone. “Who’s been fucking with your car, Jackson?”

  “This asshole.” Jackson jabbed his thumb at Dash.

  “A closet kinkster, are we, Dashiell?”

  Dash growled. “Say that name again, and I’ll rip your lips off.”

  Raven laughed. “You are too fucking fussy about your car, Jack.”

  “I have OCD. Shut the hell up.” Jackson smacked the wheel when a car pulled out in front of us. “Fuckwit.”

  “Who’s got the booze?” I asked him.

  “I have a bottle of Jack in the back, but it’s Wade. He’s always got shit to drink.”

  “Where’s he get it anyway?” I’d often been curious.

  “Fuck if I know,” Jackson said, turning a sharp corner way too fast.

  I winced and braced against the door, then sighed in relief as Wade’s museum-size house came into view.

  One of these days, I’d have my own car. Of course, I couldn’t exactly drive it if I wanted to get wasted, but it’d make me feel a fuck ton better to quit leeching off these assholes or my mom every time I needed to go somewhere that wasn’t within biking distance.

  The bass reverberated through the soles of my Vans as we crossed the lawn and pushed past the flustered doorkeeper, then waded through the crowd.

  “Who’s got the green?” I turned to Jackson after we’d found the drinks.

  “Rave,” he said, then gestured to the stairs.

  We were stopped a few times by girls from school, a couple of whom I was pretty sure had boyfriends, before we shook them off and headed upstairs.

  Dash pushed open the bathroom door, and a squeal pierced the air, overpowering the music coming from downstairs and the upstairs living area.

  “Dash, man, what the fuck?”

  I peered over Dash’s shoulder to find Danny balls deep inside one of the cheerleaders. Annabeth, maybe. From their angle, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t particularly care.

  “Don’t mind us,” Dash said, taking a swig from his drink and strolling in to park himself on the vanity.

  Danny’s and Annabeth’s eyes were wide as we all entered and took up positions in the large white and blue bathroom. I took the other side of the vanity, nabbing an offered blunt from Rave.

  Danny and Annabeth scrambled to their feet, Annabeth righting her dress while bailing out into the hall before Danny could stop her.

  He turned on us, nostrils flaring. “You couldn’t have waited just one more minute?”

  Rave looked down at the hard-on tenting Danny’s jeans and smirked. “You didn’t need to stop, man. We told you that.”

  Danny cursed and stormed to the door, then cursed again when I threw a bar of shell-shaped soap at the back of his huge head.

  He picked it up and lobbed it at Dash, who ducked and laughed as it smacked into the mirror and slid to a stop behind the faucet. “It wasn’t even fucking me!”

  Danny flipped us off, then walked back in and stole Raven’s blunt before hightailing it out of there.

  Raven sighed as he lit another from the stash he kept in a cigarette pack. “Suppose he needs something.”

  “Yep.” Jackson grimaced, coughing a cloud of smoke. “She won’t be touching him again tonight.” He left the room a moment later, mumbling something about taking a piss.

  “Or ever,” Dash said. “Fifty bucks says she’s going to want to thank us, all special like, when she wakes up tomorrow.”

  I frowned. “He already had his dick inside her.”

  Dash shrugged. “Semantics. Chicks dig them.”

  “You’ve been hanging out with Peggy too much,” Raven muttered.

  At that, Dash glared, and Raven raised his hands.

  Peggy was a sore spot for Dash. Probably because the guy was in love with her, though he had no fucking idea. But neither did she, for that matter. Best friends their whole lives, literally their whole lives, and I didn’t think they’d ever clue in.

  Not my problem.

  Not even five minutes later, my limbs loose and my mind free, the devil herself walked through the door, dressed to the nines, and stopped. “Dash?”

  “Freckles.”

  Peggy’s cheeks tinged as she snapped, “Don’t call me that.”

  I didn’t hear much else as the long-legged brunette breezed by her friend, her eyes glowing as they bounced into mine, and she halted before me.

  The blunt was yanked from my fingers, but I didn’t feel it as I watched her press it between her plump scarlet lips, and inhale.

  My heart kicked faster, my nerve endings zapping out of their fog when she exhaled in my face. Speechless. She’d rendered me fucking speechless within three electrified heartbeats, and she’d said nothing at all. Devious green eyes curtained by fluttering lashes squashed my ability to think.

  “Let’s go,” I heard Peggy say.

  I woke up then. “Not so fast, Cotton Candy.” Daphne stopped in the doorway with my blunt still between her fingers. “You owe me.”

  My mouth unhinged when she opened her purse and dropped a twenty at my feet.

  I watched it flutter to the tiles and then tilted my head, withholding a disbelieving laugh. “I don’t need your money.”

  “And I don’t need to be nicknamed after a pointless sweet.”

  Jesus Christ, so I did affect her. I smirked, my blood igni
ting. “You’re still mad?”

  Daphne’s eyes sparkled. “Mad would require me to actually care about you, and I don’t, so …” With a tip of her shoulder, she walked off, her pink dress dancing around her tanned thighs in a way that made my balls ache.

  She thought I was beneath her. That I wasn’t worth her time or affection. That I was a scheming player who would mar her with useless filth.

  Yet my gut and those eyes of hers told me this girl liked filthy.

  I gave chase.

  “Yeah, boy,” Raven called out from behind me.

  I hardly heard him over the sound of my blood whooshing in my ears, heating and bubbling as I searched every face and space upstairs.

  After checking the main bedroom, I was about to head downstairs and look there when the scent of marijuana hit me.

  Turning back, I clicked the lock behind me and crossed the plush beige carpet to the balcony where she sat, legs propped up on the railing, the night air hitting her in places I’d only ever dared dream of touching.

  “Took you long enough.” Her voice was venom-laced silk, soft and biting.

  I collapsed into the seat beside hers and barely paid any mind to the sprawling view of the backyard and water below. The bay stretched as far as the stars, bouncing the silver and gold of the moon’s reflection off the flat surface.

  “There’ll be no more Ruthies.” I said the first thing that I knew might work.

  She exhaled a plume of smoke, then flicked the roach over the balcony and laughed. “Don’t go changing for me, Bradby.” Her head tilted back and to the side, her eyes meeting mine. “Seriously. I don’t need or want a boyfriend.”

  I didn’t know why those words grated instead of pleased. “I don’t want to be your boyfriend.”

  Her perfect brows jumped. “Oh? So you merely want to fuck—”

  “I want to be your world.” I had no idea where the confidence to make such an honest assertion had come from, but I guess I was fresh out of other options. She didn’t play like other girls did. Daphne might’ve been a teenager, as we all were, but she knew what she wanted and exactly what she didn’t want. It equally unnerved and thrilled me.

  Inching closer, my finger tipped her chin up, forcing our eyes to lock. “I want inside your mind, your heart, and your body. I want the entire package, no samples.”