* * *
“Look at those abs! Ow-wooooo!”
Nicole is holding up a book and running her finger seductively down the abs of the man on the front cover, while suggestively tracing her upper lip with the tip of her tongue. I cover my mouth to hush my laughter.
“Stop, would you? Oh my god, you’re so bad!”
We giggle again, but continue staring at the cover. It’s okay because Nic and I know one another well. She’s my best friend and has been since the sixth grade, when we were paired up for a science fair project. I am pretty sure, however, that we would have eventually gravitated towards each other even without the science fair.
After all, we were part of the small portion of students in the class that was actually looking forward to the project. We were both outsiders at our school, observing but not so much participating; both heavy-set, awkward, and total bookworms. We’re the type that sits quiet in the back of the classroom, yet secretly hanging on to our teachers’ every last word. Is it bad to love learning? It certainly seems like it some days, given the teasing that comes my way.
But Nicole and I bonded quickly our sixth-grade year, especially after our project won second place in the science fair contest. Our hypothesis was that we could get a battery to produce energy from lemon juice, and it did! The red ribbon looked so nice, and I was beaming with happiness when I saw it.
After the fair, our parents took us to celebrate at a local Connie’s Pizza, one of the classic Chicago-land pizzerias where patrons can write in sharpie on the brick walls while they wait for their order. I remember the red and white checkered table cloths, and the dim, vintage light fixtures hanging above them. I can still smell the sweet, sugary sauce in the air, wafting off the iconic pizza pies. Plus, if I had to guess, “Tilly & Nicole BFFS Forever” is still written in big letters above the old pizza oven built into the wall in the main dining room.
But yeah, our nerdiness hasn’t worn off even years later, and we aren’t exactly the cool kids in high school. While most people our age are sneaking down to the field across from the train tracks at night to drink vodka and orange juice, we prefer to hit the town bowling alley and gush over our latest reads while knocking down some pins. That’s not to say we don’t get a little crazy here and there. Wild and fun just have a different meaning to us than to most of the masses. For example, once in a while, we like to play an entire bowling set only allowing trick shots; Nicole’s granny roll is almost better than her regular throw at this point. It’s hilarious, but anyone would laugh upon seeing it.
Plus, we’ve lucked out with our schedules this year. We have over half of our classes together, and this thankfully includes homeroom and lunch. Our homeroom period is in the school library, giving us daily opportunity to gush over the romance novels stacked in the bins lining the back wall of the room.
It’s a little sad because there are no real-life boys interested in us, so we make up for it by pining over the male models on our favorite trade paperbacks. Today, Nicole is ogling a Fabio-inspired man on the cover of Through the Open Window. We’re just goofing around, but deep down we both know that we would kill for a man like this one: he has dirty blonde hair flowing down to his shoulders, and piercing blue eyes above a deadly sharp jaw line. I can’t help but fixate on the trickle of sweat making its way down and over his washboard abs, which of course draws my eyes to that tight v-formation just at the top of his faded blue jeans. Neither of us have ever seen a man like that in real life.
Nicole swings her bouncy brown curls over her shoulders as she spins around to show me the cover of the next book in the bin. Behind her oversized glasses, her eyes are practically bulging with excitement.
“Are you seeing this Tilly? Can you imagine bringing a man like him to prom? I can see Samantha and her little posse already. The looks on their faces would be absolutely priceless.”
Samantha is the leader of the mean-girl brigade at Riverdale High. I’ve seen her knock a girl’s books out of her hands, causing all her belongings to spill into the busy hallway. Her top lieutenant, Chelsea, broke a guy’s glasses earlier in the year, when she “accidentally” stepped on them after he had momentarily dropped them on the floor. And they’re infamous for hazing freshmen, convincing them to hand over their lunch money and neat gadgets in exchange for social approval. It’s a scandal in and of itself because said approval is never truly gained, no matter how much you bend to the will of the Samantha gang.
The girls in her posse, Chelsea, Shannon, and Jen, are nasty in their own way, but I get the sense that their bad behavior really derives from Samantha. That girl is the true root of evil. I wonder why her personality is so twisted and awful. Was she abused as a child? What could possibly be going on in that twisted blonde head?
But Nicole giggles again, bringing me back to the present.
“Oh my god, if he were my prom date, I’d die of ecstasy. Just die!” she titters.
I giggle myself.
“Ugh, I couldn’t even. If Mr. Hunk-a-licious here suddenly came to life in front of us, I would just be a blubbering mess. I’ll stick to keeping him in book form for now,” I respond with an overdramatic eye roll.
“That’s fine, because I don’t think you’re going to be doing a whole lot of talking if you meet a man like that, if you know what I mean,” Nicole retorts with a wink.
We both break out into uncontrollable laughter. We are shushing each other between giggle fits, telling the other to knock it off so we don’t get in trouble with the school librarian. And just as we both start to get it under control, the other one spontaneously loses it again.
“Mrs. Morrison is going to kick us out! I am NOT getting my first detention senior year. You’ve got to stop making me laugh, Nicole!” I sputter between gasps.
At this she goes off the deep end for some reason and starts belly laughing so hard that she is bent over and holding her side.
“Oh my god, it hurts so much!” she exclaims, and accidentally lets out an unladylike snort. This sets me off real good. The two of us are notorious for getting ourselves into these obnoxious giggle-fits. But it’s not our fault because the harder you try to stop it, the more the laughter rolls in.
Suddenly, an ominous shadow descends over our seating area, and I look up. Is it the librarian? My body goes still upon seeing who it is, and immediately, I elbow my friend in warning.
To be continued …
My Bully’s Dad is now LIVE! Pick up your copy here.
Sneak Peek: My Dad’s College Friends
Amelia
Amelia gets revenge on her cheating boyfriend by taking up with TWO of her dad’s old college friends.
* * *
The further I walk up the stairs, the louder the sounds become. Reaching the top, I can now clearly tell that what I’m hearing are loud sex sounds. At first, I’m mortified. Maybe Mrs. Money got home early, and she’s spending time with her new fiancé. I should leave immediately.
Yet, I know it’s not Mrs. Money. Roger’s mom works late hours as an attorney, and it’s too early for her to be home. Instead, I know what it is: it’s my boyfriend watching porn. Nothing wrong with that. A lot of teenage boys watch porn, and in fact, I’d be more surprised if Roger didn’t watch porn.
With a grin on my face, I quietly creep towards Roger’s room intending to catch him red-handed. You’d think he would be a little more discreet, given the loud moans and wails which are ringing down the hall, but I’m not surprised. His mom’s not going to be home until late, so why not take advantage of the privacy?
With a mischievous grin on my face, I continue to creep towards his room. Clearly, waiting for the “right time” is getting to be difficult for Roger; maybe we can do a little fooling around to take the edge off until prom. With an excited look in my eyes, I gently push open Roger’s door, hoping I can surprise him during a particularly steamy scene.
But instead of the TV monitor I expected to see, instead, a horrendous sight greets my eyes. It’s Roger, bu
t he’s with his mom’s fiancé’s daughter, Carmen. What the fuck? This can’t be real. They’re practically related! How can he be banging her?
Yet, it’s true. Frozen in shock, I can’t seem to look away as I see them writhe around on the bed together. Roger’s got Carmen on her hands and knees, and with horrified eyes, I watch as Roger pulls Carmen’s hair back as he smacks her ass. Moaning in delight, she pushes back further as if trying to take in as much of Roger as she possibly can. Pulling her hair even tighter, Roger leans down to bite Carmen’s shoulder causing her to scream in pleasure. They don’t even notice me because they’re going at it so hard.
No. This can’t be happening. Roger wouldn’t do this to me because we were just exchanging words of love earlier today at school. He wouldn’t do something like this behind my back. He’s not that kind of person; this is not the sweet guy who’s been my boyfriend all year.
Yet despite my reassurances to myself, it’s hard to argue with what is right in front of my face. At that moment, Carmen lets out a particularly long squeal, and Roger reaches a hand between her thighs to pinch her clit, making her shriek even louder.
Still standing there, I can’t seem to make sense of what I am seeing. Not only is my boyfriend cheating on me, but he’s doing it with the girl who will soon be his stepsister. What the FUCK?!?!?! Helplessly, I watch as Roger continues to drill Carmen into oblivion. I stare open-mouthed as he leans over to start playing with Carmen’s clit again, sending her crashing into an orgasm. She moans and screams loudly, her entire body shaking with ecstasy as Roger pummels her with increased fervor.
Finally, Carmen collapses on the bed, with Roger still buried deep between her thighs. He grins again, and leans back to suck Carmen’s juices off of his fingers, catching his breath. It’s at this moment that Roger finally notices me standing in the doorway. With a cocky grin on his face, Roger finishes licking Carmen’s juices off his fingers before flipping me off. I can’t believe it. Is he really giving me the middle finger? Right now?
Sure enough, he is. Then he does something even worse. Without taking his eyes off of me, he leans back over to push his fingers back between Carmen’s legs. Still grinning maliciously at me, he brings her to another orgasm with his caresses before grabbing her hair and drilling her even harder. It’s as if my presence makes him want to put on a show.
I don’t know how long I stand there with my eyes wide and mouth open. Watching the two of them go at it like frantic rabbits makes me feel...I don’t know how I feel. Shocked? Disgusted? Heartbroken? It all seems to run together.
Finally, though, I find myself red-hot with anger. Taking a deep breath, I scream, “You fucking bastard!” before turning and pounding down the stairs with tears streaming down my cheeks. Tripping down the stairs in my haste to get away from the scene, I almost run over Mrs. Money.
“Amelia, what’s wrong honey?” she asks, perplexed. She’s clearly just come from work. Her hair is pinned in an neat bun, and she has a blue business suit on.
Unable to answer, I wave her away as I run to my car. Slamming the door, I start my vehicle and squeal out of the driveway.
Driving home, I can’t get the visual of Roger and Carmen out of my mind. It’s as if the scene is playing on a loop in my mind. The way they looked wrapped around each other. The way they moved as if they knew what the other liked. It’s clear this wasn’t the first time. That pig! How could he do this to me?
Plus, how many other times has he cheated on me during the past year? Clearly, he and his stepsister have been intimate for a while now. Here I was thinking that our relationship actually meant something to both of us, while he was off playing games with another woman the whole time.
Pulling into my driveway, I slam the car into park before pounding on the steering wheel. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? God knows that no one is going to want a short, chubby girl like me. I was lucky to land Roger to begin with, and now, I have nothing. That thought seems to unleash the floodgates on my emotions as sobs heave through my body.
Curling into myself, I finally give myself the opportunity to truly grieve. Chest-wracking sobs make tears flood my cheeks like rain on a stormy day. Who cheats on their girlfriend like this? Who leads such a double life? Who the fuck sleeps with their future stepsister? I mean seriously, WHO DOES THAT? If Roger didn’t want to be with me all he had to do was say so. I would have been heartbroken, but I would have understood. Shit happens. But it didn’t have to be a clusterfuck like it is now.
None of that matters, however, because I’m sure as hell not going to stay with him after the BS I just saw. Pompous ass! Taking my phone out, I pulled up Roger’s number in my phone. I send him a quick text to tell him that we’re over. There are definitely some curse words in my rather rude message, but I don’t care.
Then, I go to all of my social media profiles to block him from contacting me further. Deleting his information from my phone is the last step to cut all ties with Roger. If I don’t exist to him, then he damn sure doesn’t exist to me. Once I finish, I lay my head on the steering wheel and cry, suddenly exhausted. Who’s going to want me now?
* * *
To be continued …
My Dad’s College Friends is now LIVE! Pick up your copy here.
About the Author
Cassandra Dee is a bestselling author of dozens of hot and steamy contemporary romances. She started out writing erotica but transitioned to romance after falling for one too many book boyfriends.
When she’s not tapping away furiously at her laptop, Cassandra can be found drinking gallons of coffee and watching lots of reality TV. She also enjoys taking the neighbor’s dog for walks, aimlessly wandering the local grocery store, and of course, reading too much about the lives of her favorite celebrities.
Cassandra is living her own HEA with her husband and a beautiful baby boy.
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My Sister’s Boyfriend: A Forbidden Romance Page 9
