by K. Webster
“You’ve lost your mind,” he says in astonishment. “The great Eric Pearson is going to drive off into the sunset with his psycho neighbor’s daughter. Never thought I’d live to see the day.”
I pluck a cube of ice from my drink and fling it at him. “Keep talking mad shit and you won’t live to see another day.”
Chapter Ten
Rowan
I’ve texted Eric a few times, but he hasn’t responded. I’m about to give up and go to sleep when I feel my phone vibrating.
“Hello?” I whisper, careful not to wake my dad. He never questioned me about Eric. I could tell he was pissed, but he didn’t say a word. But then, he told me he was going to try to spend more time with me, so we caught a movie and had dinner tonight. All I could think about was Eric.
“Angel.” His voice is raspy and vibrates straight to my core.
“I miss you,” I blurt out.
He chuckles, and it warms me. “I want you in my bed.”
“I want to be there.”
“So get your pretty ass over here.”
“Are you drunk?” I ask, stifling my giggle.
“Yes. Those strippers wanted my cock, but I saved it for you.”
My jealousy is overshadowed by the fact that I’ve never heard Eric act like this. So out of control and not put together. “I’ll be there in a minute,” I promise.
We hang up, and I creep out of my bedroom. Luckily, Daddy sleeps heavily so he won’t hear me slip out. I sneak downstairs and slip out the backdoor. Our alarm makes a beep, alerting us the door has been opened, but it never wakes my father. Once outside, I run through the grass across the yard. When I get to the Pearson’s house, I’m happy to find the front door unlocked. Quietly, I slip inside and tiptoe to his room. A sliver of light pours from the cracked door.
I peek inside and stare at him for a moment. He’s lost his shirt and lies flat on his back. His slacks are still on, but undone. All of his glorious abs are on full display. The trail of hair leading to his cock looks downright lickable. I push inside and close the door behind me. He lifts up on his elbows and regards me with a boyish grin I’ve never seen before. I’m almost knocked over by how much he looks like Hayden or Brock right now.
“There’s my girl,” he murmurs, his gaze raking down over the front of my nightgown.
I walk over to the bed and climb on. He guides my hips so I’m straddling him. His thumbs rub circles on my thighs just below the hem of my gown.
“You’re drunk,” I tell him.
He laughs. “And you’re fucking cute.”
“Just cute?” I sass.
He blinks at me, a lazy smile on his face. “Not just cute. Fucking adorable. Fucking gorgeous. Fucking mine.”
I bite on my bottom lip. “That’s better.”
His expression is tender as he twists his finger around the end of my hair. I love him like this. Vulnerable and young. Carefree. When I lean forward to kiss him, he pushes me back. “I smell like smoke.”
Rejection stutters my heart and I give him a fake smile. “Okay.”
He strokes my hair. “Will you shower with me?”
His sweet question has me nodding. “Of course.”
I climb off of him, then help him off the bed. He walks toward the bathroom, his steps slightly swaying. Once he gets the shower started, he undresses. His cock is hard and alert like always. I tug off my gown, then push down my panties.
“Come,” he growls.
I take his offered hand and follow him into the spray of the water. As soon as we’re under the heat of it, he clutches the sides of my neck with both hands and walks me backwards until my ass hits the cold stone. His kiss is deep and intense. With one kiss, he obliterates me. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he easily lifts me. Once my legs are hooked at his waist, he guides his cock inside me.
We’re a perfect fit.
Kind of snug at first, but now we fit like we were made for each other.
He’s surprisingly gentle as he fucks me sweet. I melt each time he kisses me. In true Eric fashion, though, he finds a way to hurt me. His teeth sink into my cheekbone, and he bites until I cry out, then chuckles as he kisses away the hurt. Because he’s drunk, his efforts are clumsy, but I don’t mind. I’ve been clumsy enough for the both of us this entire relationship. It’s nice to see the perfect Eric Pearson falter and fuck up.
“I’m not going to be able to let you go,” he murmurs as he grinds into me. “You’ll want to go to college, but I won’t let you leave me. I’m selfish. When I want something, I take it. If I want you, I’ll take you.”
His words turn me on. “You’ll take me? Where?”
“Here. You’ll be mine.”
“I am yours,” I breathe.
He groans as he comes suddenly. I don’t get off, but I don’t care. I love having him this way. His heat rushes into me once more. It feels better not having a barrier between us. Once he’s done, he slides me off his dick, then starts soaping me down. His gestures are so sweet, I can’t hold in my smile. I take my turn washing him, and his intense stare bores into me. After we’re clean, we rinse and dry off. Then, he carries me to bed. I feel like a princess.
He climbs in beside me and pulls the covers over us. I relax as he curls his strong, giant body around my small one. His palm gropes my breast while his nose nuzzles against my hair.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“You’ve loved me since you did cartwheels at fifteen in my front yard. You liked showing off your panties,” he says with a chuckle.
I smile. “So, you’re not mad?”
“That you’ve always loved me?”
“Yeah.”
“Not at all. Makes me want to fuck a baby into you and force my last name on you.”
I shiver at his caveman words. “You like to tease me.”
His palm slides to my hip, and he squeezes. “I’m serious as a fucking heart attack.”
“You want to have a baby with me?”
“I also want in your ass.”
I giggle. “You’re bad.”
He kisses my shoulder. “Go to sleep, angel.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Get up,” Eric barks, dragging me from my slumber.
I roll over to see him standing beside the bed fully dressed for work. His dark hair is slicked back, and his face is freshly shaved. He’s not wearing his jacket or tie yet. I can’t help but stare at his muscled, veiny forearms on display since he’s rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up. He flips his wrist to check his watch.
“Jesus, Rowan,” he grumbles. “I don’t have time for this shit. I have a meeting this morning.”
I sit up in bed and frown at him. Gone is the sweet man from last night who promised me the world. His cold demeanor is too much this morning.
“Open,” he orders.
“What?”
He holds a pill up as an explanation.
“But last night you said—”
His glare is icy and cruel. “So help me, Rowan Wheeler. Don’t make me shove this down your pretty little throat. I know you can take it.” He smirks as though he’s remembering how I choked on his cock.
I fight tears as I take the pill, all hopes of marrying him and carrying his child dashed in a moment. I slide past him and snatch up my gown he’s laid out on the end of the bed. Before I make it to the door, he snags me by the elbow.
I wait for him to apologize or say something to comfort me. Instead, he kisses the top of my head and gives me a small swat to my ass.
“I’ll come for you later.”
I don’t have the courage to tell him not to bother.
With emotion tearing at my throat for release, I slip from Eric’s room and dart down the hallway. My tears are free to spill, and they do, blurring my way. I run smack into a hard chest. Strong hands grip my waist. When I jerk my head up, I find myself staring into Nixon’s eyes. He may only be sixteen, but he’s every bit a man these days. With his concerned stare on me and loving arm
s around me, I rest my head against his chest and cry.
He’s tense, but doesn’t say a word on the matter. His constant muttering under his breath calms me as usual and I relax against him. I’ve just burst from his father’s room wearing nothing but a silky nightgown. Instead of judging me or asking questions I don’t want to answer, he simply holds me. Once my sniffles have subsided, he pulls away to look at me.
“I’ll walk you home.”
I nod, and my lip wobbles as more tears threaten.
He gives me a sad smile before swiping my tears away with his thumbs. Then, he grabs my hand in his gentle grip and fiddles with his shiny pocket knife, a habit he's known for doing when he's agitated. The walk is short, and as we make it to the back door, I start to feel nervous. Daddy will see me sneaking inside and he’s going to want to know where I’ve been. A shiver ripples through me.
Nixon’s brows furrow. “Rowan—”
“I know,” I whisper. “He’s just…I feel so…”
He runs his fingers through his dark hair and I get a glimpse of the bruise on the side of his face. My heart clenches. “I just can’t stand to see you hurting like this.”
“I’ll be fine,” I lie.
He rolls his eyes, and I let out a giggle. “I get it, though.”
My eyes widen as I gape at him. “W-What?”
“Dad has that way about him. He’s magnetic and strong. People gravitate toward him, and once they’re swept in his vortex, they can’t pull away. I’d give anything to feel any sort of emotion from him.” His gaze hardens, and he clenches his jaw. “I just wish you didn’t get sucked in. You deserve someone better—someone who’s going to treat you like you’re everything in the world to them.”
I know he’s right. I should end things with Eric and move on. College will be here soon. There will be plenty of guys to meet and date. I don’t have to settle for a man who’s burning hot one moment and freezing cold the next.
Oh, but those scorching times…
My heart stills.
I need more than someone to play my body. I need more than the occasional nice word and sweet gift. I need more.
“Rowan?”
“Oh, shit!” I cry out. “Daddy’s coming.”
Before I can formulate a plan, Nixon draws me into his warm embrace, cradles my cheek with one palm, and presses his mouth to mine. The kiss is soft and sweet at first, but then, as though hungry, his tongue meets mine. His kiss is a promising one, and it reminds me so much of Eric. I let out a tiny moan. The hand resting at the small of my back slides to my ass and he squeezes me. I’m confused and slightly turned on.
“What the fuck?” Daddy snarls from behind me.
I pull away from Nixon and turn to see my father glaring at us with his hands fisted at either side. “I-I just w-wanted to see him b-before school,” I chatter out, my lie obvious even to me.
Nixon hugs me from behind. “We’re together.” His lie is much smoother. Why is he lying for me?
“Go home, boy,” Daddy snaps. “I’m tired of the Pearsons crawling around my house like fucking cockroaches.”
Nixon lets the hateful words slide off him without so much as flinching. He kisses the top of my head before releasing me. “See you soon, babe.”
Babe.
I bite back a smile.
Nixon is a good guy. I owe him big for this.
“In the house.” My father’s voice is icy. “You’re grounded for a year.”
I try not to laugh. He’s just angry and overreacting. I hug my dad and inhale his comforting scent.
“I love you, Daddy.”
He squeezes me. “I love you too, Rowan, but I’m serious about the Pearsons. I don’t want you near any one of those little assholes.” Then, under his breath, he adds, “Especially Eric.”
My heart sinks. Despite our little show, I don’t think Daddy is buying that I’m with Nixon even for a moment.
Well, too bad for him.
I’m not with Eric.
Eric can piss off.
Chapter Eleven
Eric
I don’t fuck up often. Hardly ever in fact. But when I do, it’s hard as hell to admit. This morning, though, I fucked up, and I can’t stop thinking about how damn sad she looked. I thought I could sleep with her and move on. Keep things fun. Rowan wants more than a nice lay in bed. She wants everything.
Just like Julia.
My chest aches at the thought of her. Anytime memories of her bleed into my everyday life, I want to take a blade and cut them all out. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I gave her a piece of me no one ever got, and she threw it all away. Her accusations were fucking ridiculous, but she spoke as though she had proof. The horror and utter heartbreak in her eyes still haunts me to this day.
The same goddamn look Rowan gave me this morning.
What if she leaves me too?
Instead of feeling angry or annoyed, I feel uneasy. Like I might puke my fucking guts up. Rowan is under my skin. She’s been there for years. I’ve just finally scratched at that itch. Problem is, she’s contagious. The pretty little thing is going to spread and spread until she infects every part of me. Including my heart. Especially my heart. Ultimately my heart.
“Who killed your puppy?” Levi questions from across the boardroom table.
I snap my attention to that smug motherfucker. He wears a smirk and is slightly disheveled. I know what he’s been up to. Dirty bastard. “Camden is allergic to animals,” I blurt out, no inflection in my tone. Then, I turn my attention to my best friend. “Trevor, I need a property. The cutest damn one you have.”
“Do what now?” Trevor asks, a dark brow lifted in question. He looks fucking ridiculous today in a shitty pair of flip flops and his four-thousand-dollar Armani suit. I want to thump him upside his hard head and order him to go buy some goddamn real shoes. Instead, I huff and pin him with a hard stare.
“I need a property. Now.”
“You’re a fucking riot,” Levi says, snorting with laughter.
I offer him my middle finger, but my attention is on Trevor. “Please,” I utter under my breath.
At my one word, Trevor sits up and starts thumbing through his phone. “What square footage? I’m assuming beachfront. Are hardwoods a must?”
Trevor is really weird about his properties, but I’ve never asked this man for a thing besides his brain. And that’s probably why he’s already on the hunt for, no doubt, the best home he can find me.
“It doesn’t have to be big. Quaint. Newer with all the amenities. Fully furnished if possible.” I rub at the tension forming on the back of my neck. “I need it now.”
“A. Fucking. Riot.” Levi’s repeated words earn him the bird again.
“I think I saw Kristyn flirting with that new mail guy,” I mutter.
Trevor and I both laugh when Levi jerks to his feet and stalks from the boardroom.
“Asshole,” I grunt.
Trevor holds up his phone. “This one okay?”
I scroll through the pictures and give him a nod. “When can I get the keys?”
“Follow me to my office and it’s yours.”
And just like that, I’m the proud owner of the yellow bungalow on 22 Seaside Lane.
I wait in the parking lot of the high school in a shiny red convertible Mustang with the top down. I’ve long since lost my jacket and tie and have rolled my sleeves up to my elbows. She will have to forgive me. I come bearing gifts.
All the kids look the same. A blur of teenage acne, skinny jeans, and cell phones glued to hands. I pick out my own kids as they stroll to their cars. Camden even waves at me as he and Nixon follow after Brock. But it isn’t until Rowan walks out of the building with a busty redhead that everything seems to sharpen. Her brown hair is straight down her back and she hugs her school books to her ample chest. The skirt she’s wearing shows off her slender legs and I want to spend the evening marking them with my teeth. As though she can feel me checking her out, her chin lifts and our
eyes meet. Instead of the embarrassed, flushed look she gives me, I get a bitchy glare.
I climb out of the car and whistle at her. “Get in the car, Rowan.”
“Fuck you, Mr. Pearson,” she yells back. She flips me off and continues walking with her friend. The redhead stares at me with bright eyes and crimson cheeks. She’ll make some man happy with those dick-sucking lips. But there’s only one pair of lips I want around my cock, and those lips belong to Rowan Wheeler.
“Little girl,” I bellow. “Don’t make me do this in front of everyone.”
She stops and glowers at me. “Do what?”
“You know what.” I lift a brow and flash her a smug grin.
Her eyes narrow before she lets out a huff and tosses her hair over her shoulder. Without another word, she walks off away from me. Her ass is delectable, and it belongs to me—not all the dickheads practically salivating after her. With a growl, I stalk after her. Her friend lets out a squeal when I near them. I hook an arm around Rowan’s waist and pull her against me.
“You’re a bad girl,” I murmur against her hair near her ear.
She squirms and fights against me. Her books clatter to the concrete as she tries to get away. “Leave me alone!”
Several kids stare at me in confusion. They all know who I am. Everyone knows who I am. Which is why nobody does shit. I’ve just staked my claim in front of the entire school. Bending over, I fold her over my shoulder. She screams and hits my lower back with her fists.
“Stop it!” I roar, slapping her thigh below the hem of her skirt.
She cries out and kicks again, so I smack her again. “I hate you,” she hisses, venom dripping from her words.
Ignoring her, I storm back over to the Mustang and toss her inside. Wisely, she doesn’t try to escape. Instead, she crosses her arms over her plump tits and stares ahead, ignoring me altogether. I fall into the driver’s seat and buckle her in before doing the same. Then, I peel out past the buses and nearly mow down another blob of teenagers who all look the same. It isn’t until I’m out on the main road that I relax. Once I get her into bed, I’ll calm her ass back down. I know just what she needs.
