by K. T. Mara
“Oh right, the hotels and stuff,” Shaw nodded his head.
It was true my parents owned some hotels, but it wasn’t where our fortune was made. I never told people how my family made their money, mostly because I couldn’t. It was just simpler to let them believe whatever they wanted. I needed to be multilingual for many reasons, but the truth was not for Shaw, or anyone else, to know.
When he shifted into a more comfortable position, my eyes widened when I saw what he was lying on.
“You fucker,” I snarled at him.
“What?”
“Our chocolate, you dumbass!” I pushed his body off the 7-eleven bag. “You squashed our chocolate!”
“Aw fuck,” Shaw mumbled. “My chicken.”
“Screw your chicken!” I screamed at him. “My chocolate’s dead because of you!” I pounded my fists against his arms, which he blocked defensively over his face.
“In my defense,” he said between the punches, “you were the one who pushed me. And the chocolate is technically still fine. It has a wrapper.”
I scrunched my nose and glared at him. “I’m not eating chocolate that’s covered with your ass germs. Wrapper or not.”
“We could go back to the store,” Shaw suggested.
“I think that woman would kill us.”
“True.”
With nothing to do, we sat in silence as I mourned the loss of the chocolate, while Shaw was most likely still thinking about his chicken wings.
“So Ms. Goody Two-Shoes,” he turned his body towards mine. The wind blew the scent of his cologne to me. He smelled heavenly. “What do you suggest we do for the next thirty minutes?”
I internally cringed at the name. I have an aversion to being called a Goody-Goody. It made me sound so sanctimonious, and it was so far from the truth. I wasn’t good. Not even close.
I took a quick look at our surroundings. We were on a semi-commercial street. On one side there were a row of miscellaneous shops: a barber, bakery, clothing store, butchers, and a library, but at this hour they were all closed. On the other side was a small park. It had a modest playground, complete with a slide and a set of swings, surrounded by a bunch trees.
I nodded my head at the playground. “You like swings?”
He gave a no-shit look. As if everybody and their grandma liked swings. Which was not necessarily true. My mother was repulsed by them. She thought they were filthy and unseemly—which was ironic considering the shit I’ve already had to do in the name of the family.
I never understood her reasoning. In movies and stories, little girls in polka dot dresses were always on swings. I always assumed it represented innocence, not lewdness, like my mother made it sound.
Shaw bounced like a monkey. “Let’s go. Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand and tugged on it.
At least someone was enthusiastic.
We sprinted to the swing but before we even made it there, Mother Nature decided it was the perfect time for a lightning storm.
“We can just wait in the car,” Shaw suggested.
I shook my head. “We are not driving in this weather.”
We ended up at some shitty hotel that would’ve had negative stars if that were possible. Seriously, this place looked like it should be condemned. There was green mold on the walls, half the stuff in the room didn’t work, and I was pretty sure I saw a few mice run across the room when we entered.
“Is that blood?” Trevvy pointed at a red stain on the white carpet.
Given the seedy nature of this place, it very well could’ve been.
I walked into the bathroom that was smaller than a Cracker Jack box. It was just as disgusting as the rest of the place, but I felt like shit, and a shower was exactly what I needed.
I turned the tap, and brown water came out. I guess the shower’s out.
When I went back into the room, Trevvy was already sprawled on the bed. It would’ve been an incredibly sexy act, if only I didn’t know what she was doing. “I am not sleeping on the floor.”
“Too bad. I already called dibs.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so, Trevvy. If I sleep on the floor, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get bitten by some poisonous spider and die.”
“Hmm,” she murmured. “I’m willing to take that chance.”
“Trevelynn!” I snapped.
“Fine!” She snapped back. She sat up and started making a make-shift divider out of pillows.
I stared at her blankly. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. My god, Trevvy, I’m not going to jump you. And even if I did, a couple of fluffy pillows aren’t going to help.”
She looked back at me strangely. “I’m just defining the territory. Cross it, and it won’t be the pillows you should be worried about.”
“Touchy,” I whistled. I started to unbuckle my belt when she screamed at me.
“What are you doing?!”
I rolled my eyes. “Taking off my jeans. I’m not sleeping in them. Do you know how uncomfortable that would be?”
“Don’t care. The pants stay on, or your head comes off.”
“Which head? I have two.” I smirked.
Her eyes narrowed and I tried really hard not to laugh. “Okay, okay.” I raised my hands. “Would her majesty also like for me to wear a Chasity belt as well?”
Poor Trevvy was grinding her teeth so hard I almost felt bad for her. I decided to let her off the hook. I fixed my belt, and reached for the light switch.
“Sweet dreams, Trevelynn.” I smiled. “I hope the bed bugs get you first.”
“Goodnight, Shaw. I hope the rats eat half your face off.”
I shook my head, and smiled to myself. Eventually my eyes closed, and I quickly feel asleep. I didn’t even need my Ambien.
I came awake when something heavy climbed on top of me.
The fuck?
I opened my eyes and there was Trevvy, straddling me.
Double fuck.
“T-Trevvy? What are you doing?”
She smiled seductively in response, causing me to fucking freak out. My mind raced through a billion thoughts at once, desperately trying to find even one plausible reason why Rachel Marie Trevelynn currently had a serious case of the ‘fuck me’ eyes.
My brain started screaming wildly, ‘Abort! Abort! THIS IS A TRAP!’ I was 99.99% sure it was right, but my poor brain was fighting a losing battle. All my blood was already rushing elsewhere, and I doubted it would stop anytime soon. When her hands grasped my dick, it pretty much sealed yet another victory for team Hormones. Sorry Brain, maybe next time.
I wrapped my arms around her body, pulling her closer until we were pressed tightly together. She slowly traced the edges of my lips with her fingers then moved across the features of my face.
“What’s gotten into you?” I whispered.
She smiled again in a sexy devil-may-care manner that kicked my pulse into overdrive. Her lips crashed into mine. The impact sucked all the breath out of my lungs, making me gasp in surprise. I had never been kissed so forcibly in my life. It felt like our mouths were consuming each other’s. Our tongues moved like they were sparring. We kissed like we fought—uninhibited and relentless.
When she grabbed my cock again, I bit my tongue so hard, I tasted blood. She wasn’t careful in the way she handled it. Instead of being gentle, she squeezed it like she would a stress ball. My body bucked in pain, but what a sweet feeling it was. Pain and pleasure always was the most fulfilling combination.
I really tried to hold out longer, but fuck, it had been a really long time since I’d last had a decent release, and my control was shot to shit right now.
“Trevvy,” I broke our kiss, and gently nudged her. “I’m going to lose it any second now,”
Instead of stopping, she slid herself down the length of my body until her mouth was directly in front of my cock. She unbuckled my belt and pulled my jeans down in one swift movement. When her mouth finally wrapped around my cock I officially lost all brain function.
I remembere
d when we were fifteen, and I first saw Trevvy eating a popsicle. I remember watching the way she sucked it; the way she lapped all of the juices with her tongue, and I remember silently thanking whoever it was that decided to make the popsicle look like a penis.
Now watching her suck the real thing—and not just any, but mine—was indescribable. There was no feeling comparable to having one of your deepest teenage fantasies finally fulfilled.
She sucked with such a fervent rhythm it was absolutely hypnotic. I felt dazed and out of my mind.
“Trevvy,” I groaned, as I tugged on her hair. “You gotta let go, I can’t hold it much longer.”
She didn’t move, sucking harder instead and that was it. I climaxed with an intensity that even surprised me. She swallowed every last bit, like it was the juices from that sweet popsicle.
Before I even caught my breath, Trevvy climbed on top of me again. She raised an eyebrow, silently asking if I was ready.
There really wasn’t any need to. I was so ready to fuck until the sun came up again.
She started tugging my jeans down past my knees, when a sense of unease took over.
“Wait,” I stopped her. “C-can you say my name first? Not my last name. I just want to hear it.” I thought about blaming it on curiosity, but goddammit, I really did want to know. We’ve known each other since we were five, and yet, in all those years, not once had she called me Connor. Besides, when she came, I really would prefer she shout my name instead of one I share with my family.
She gave me an inquisitive expression, but she didn’t respond, and I was a second away from playing the whole thing off as a joke, when she smiled at me. I held my breath, as I watched her beautiful mouth open. My entire body tensed in anticipation. I saw her lips slowly form the first syllable of my name. “Con—“
“Shaw!”
I sat up, completely startled. I quickly looked around my surroundings. Trevvy was beside me, glaring like she wanted to strangle me.
What the fuck? Wasn’t she just on top of me?
“Whatever sick perverted dream you were having needs to stop.”
When I didn’t say anything, her eyes became even more piercing. “You think I didn’t know? You were moaning like someone in a shitty porno.”
I felt completely thrown. That…was a dream? Un-fucking-believable. At this point, I really felt like the score was a blowout.
Me: 0 Trevvy: Super K.O.
“Sorry, Trevvy. I promise to keep my obsessive moaning to myself,” I mumbled.
She let out a ‘humph’ before turning her back to me. She also pulled over half of the blankets to her side. Real mature.
I sighed, and fell back into the bed. For fuck’s sake. Even in my dreams I got trolled by her. I glanced at the bathroom door. I was really tempted to get up and take a long cold shower, but that was out of the question because a) I wouldn’t know how to explain to her why I was taking a shower at 4 am in the fucking morning, and b) What the fuck was I, a prepubescent boy? At this point of my life, I really should be able to control myself without needing to freeze the shit out of my body just to calm an erection.
But after three minutes, I was starting to panic.
Someone once told me if you tell yourself something enough times, it’ll actually happen. I didn’t believe it, but honestly at the moment I was willing to try anything.
I am the master of my own penis. I am the master of my own penis.
I glanced back down.
It didn’t work. Figures. I always knew psychology was a bunch of overrated bullshit. What I really needed was some black magic—you know, the stuff that actually works.
A buzz from my phone made me jolt. I quickly looked at Trevvy to see if the noise woke her up. She wasn’t moving, except for the steady rise and fall of her breathing. And she was snoring.
I turned my attention back to my phone. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the brightness of the screen. When I could finally read the message, my heart dropped.
Come to my office tomorrow, 9am sharp.
-Nathaniel Shaw
Nathaniel has never texted me before. Ever. I didn’t even know he could. And the fact he did something so out of character, also meant I was supremely fucked. I guess skipping that party was a bad idea.
Well, at least now I know whenever I needed my dick to deflate faster than a popped balloon, all I need to do was think about my father.
Good to fucking know.
I let out a deep breath and reclined into the bed again. I knew Nathaniel was going to give me shit tomorrow, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much. I turned onto my side and stared at the sleeping girl next to me.
“So worth it,” I whispered to no one in particular, before falling back asleep.
-- Never doubt that things won’t go wrong. They will. --
I woke up to an empty bed, and a post-it note stuck to my forehead.
I shook my head and smiled at his chicken scratch handwriting. I do not snore, but he was getting me food, so I wouldn’t hold it against him. With him gone, I had the entire king size bed to myself. I stretched my body languidly across the silky sheets. The day was beginning on a high note, I thought. I hadn’t had such a relaxing morning, in a very long time.
Then my phone rang.
I looked at the screen, and stopped breathing. My father.
“Hello?” I mumbled into the receiver.
His solemn voice echoed in my ears.
“There has been a change of plans. We need him dead.”
I'm one of the more boring people you'll meet in life. And I'm from Canada.
Website: http://www.ktmara.com
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A big thank you to Najla Qamber for the beautiful cover, and Raelene Green for her awesome editing skills. Another big thank you to Marion Archer for beta reading my very first draft. I couldn't have done it without you ladies!
And to SueBee, your help and input made the book what it is. Thank you so much!
And finally, I'd like to thank my sister. You're a pain in the ass, but you still have your moments.
