Punk 57

by Penelope Douglas

  Her eyes flare, shooting me a nasty look as she opens her mouth to speak again.

  But I cut her off. “You’re done,” I tell her. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

  I turn around, but I see Trey and J.D. approach and stop.

  Son of a…

  “You wanna have some fun?” Trey comes in, placing his hands on my hips.

  What? I breathe out a laugh, a little exasperated. I can’t keep up with the intrigues right now.

  But I blink, trying to focus myself again and find my quick wit. “Sure.” I give in. “I was wondering when you’d start getting interesting.”

  J.D. laughs, and Trey cocks an eyebrow, half-amused and half looking like he wants to teach me how to keep my mouth shut.

  “Laurent can’t seem to take his eyes off you,” he says.

  He turns his head over his shoulder, and I follow his gaze, finding Masen sitting at a table full of the worst delinquents in school. He leans back, his long legs stretched out, and his hands locked behind his head, laughing with the guy he’s talking to.

  “So?” I look back at Trey.

  “So I think he wants you,” he answers. “I want you to use that for me.”

  And then he leans in, holding the other side of my face and whispering into my ear. “Get him to come to my house next week for the party.”

  I pinch my eyebrows together, vaguely remembering him mentioning his parents being out of town soon. And he wants me to bring Masen. So you can do what? Beat him up after I’ve lured him into the trap like in that 80’s movie?

  Yeah, no.

  Trey pulls away, and I force my tone even. “That doesn’t sound like any fun to me.”

  Trey hoods his eyes, clearly getting aggravated with my lack of cooperation. He turns to Lyla, giving her a sexy smile. “Lyla, baby,” he says, and I see J.D. tense. “You got some balls, don’t you?”

  Lyla grins back coyly, and I shake my head.

  If I don’t do what he wants, Lyla will. I catch J.D.’s sneer shoot between Trey and Lyla, and then to me before he looks away.

  I heave a sigh. “Masen’s not stupid, Trey. He’ll see right through her.”

  I shove my salad at Lyla and brush past the boys, walking toward Masen’s table.

  Stepping up, I stop next to him. All of his buddies cease their conversation and look at me, but Masen doesn’t spare me a glance.

  “Hey.” I put my hand on my hip, knowing he’s aware of me.

  A smile curls Masen’s lips, and his friends’ eager glances dart between him and me.

  “Princess,” he says. “What can I do for you?”

  Oh, please. I slide in between him and the table, hopping up and planting my hands behind me, leaning back a little, well-aware my shirt is riding up as his eyes flash to my stomach.

  A few snorts sound off from his friends, and I taunt him with my eyes.

  “Your prom date’s watching,” he says.

  “He sent me,” I reply. “He seems to think you’ll let me bring you to one of his parties.”

  I hear a few mumbles around the table, while Masen simply looks amused. We both know what Trey has in store, and I can feel my own friends watching us.

  “You don’t want your friends thinking you’re a chicken, do you?” I play.

  Masen’s smile widens, and he glances to his side, probably seeing if Trey is paying attention.

  Not that either of us probably care. I kind of like this game. No one would believe we’re actually into each other. I can play them as long as we’re not playing each other.

  He looks up at me and slides his hands under my knees, pulling me off the table and slowly lowering me into his lap, straddling him. Quiet laughter sounds off around the table and a need is suddenly building between my legs.

  Leaning into him, chest to chest, I whisper in his ear. “I don’t want you to go,” I admit. “He won’t be alone.”

  “Why do you care?” he speaks low, keeping his tone flat. “You’re still taking Machismo-Dick to prom, aren’t you?”

  “Has anyone else asked me?”

  “Would you say yes?”

  I brush his ear with my nose, feeling his soft skin there. “Ask and find out.”

  “Trevarrow!”

  I jerk, hearing my name called. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s the principal. Great. I move to get off his lap, but he presses his hands down on my thighs, keeping me there.

  “Masen,” I urge. He’s going to get me in trouble. In public.

  “Get off his lap,” Principal Burrowes orders me. “Now.”

  I put my hands on Masen’s shoulders, moving to get up, but he grips my hips again, keeping me down.

  “She gets off my dick when I tell her to get off,” he tells the principal.

  My mouth falls open, and I widen my eyes. What the fuck?

  Burrowes’ expression turns furious, and I hear various laughs and snorts around the table behind me.

  “I beg your pardon?” she exclaims.

  But Masen just leans into my ear. “I’ll see you later.”

  And then he stands, carefully letting me slide off his lap and onto my feet.

  He doesn’t spare anyone a second glance and walks out of the lunchroom with Burrowes’ heels clacking after him.

  Somehow, though, I doubt she’s going to be able to stop him.

  I’m going to hell. I’m pretty sure she’s going to drag me there herself.

  Ryen has a nasty temper, and it’s the one thing about her I didn’t know but was happy to find out.

  It excites me.

  I tilt the flower pot and pluck out the key that’s hidden underneath. Unlocking her front door, I replace the key and enter the house as the grandfather clock chimes to indicate it’s five a.m. Hopefully, everyone is still asleep.

  I’ll tell her tomorrow. I’ll take her to my father’s house—my house—and show her…

  No, I should write her a letter. Something where I can get my words out right.

  No.

  Fuck! She won’t accept it. She won’t be able to get past it. She’ll hate me and cut me off, and my life will be empty without her. I have to tell her, or I have to leave.

  And the possibility that I’ll do just that, punk out and cut and run, is the only reason I don’t claim her. The only reason I don’t knock Trey’s fucking hands off her and put a dent in his stomach.

  I can’t rob her of prom and friends when I know I won’t be here to pick up the pieces. I’ll either be gone or she’ll make me go.

  How do you tell your friend—your best friend—that you’ve been right here, under her nose, playing with her like a puppet? That she had no idea the guy who was fucking her Friday night was the boy she grew up with?

  It all just got so out of hand.

  I close the door, gently releasing the knob to keep from alerting anyone who might be awake that someone’s breaking into their house.

  Looking around the downstairs, I don’t see or hear anyone, so I jog upstairs, careful to keep my steps light and quick. Veering to the right, I twist the knob to Ryen’s bedroom and open the door.

  But I hear a gasp and look up to see her scrambling on the bed, pulling the sheet over her chest as she sits up.

  I narrow my eyes, shocked she’s awake already as I close and lock the door. I was just planning on lying down next to her, savoring the feel of her for a little while.

  Our days might be numbered.

  “What are you doing?” she whisper-yells. “How’d you get in here?”

  “Same way I got in last time,” I reply, walking toward the bed. “There’s a spare key under the flower pot outside.”

  She rolls her eyes, probably at her moms’ stupidity.

  I let my eyes fall down her body, noticing her bare leg arched up, but as I drift my gaze back up again, I see the curve of her hip, completely bare, and the side of her torso, visible in her half-shirt.

  What the hell?

  Reaching down, I left the sheet up, seeing that s
he’s completely bottomless. No sleep shorts, no underwear…

  She snatches the sheet back, covering herself, a rosy blush crossing her cheeks.

  “Why are you naked?” I straighten, suspicion crawling my skin.

  I don’t wait for an answer. I walk to the closet and throw open the doors, wondering who the fuck she has in here. She was obviously awake and scared when I opened the door.

  “There’s no one here,” she says. “I’m alone.”

  I look around the room, noticing there aren’t any other hiding places. Except…

  I kneel down and throw up her bed skirt, peering underneath the bed.

  Nothing.

  Why the fuck is she naked then?

  I stand up, cocking an eyebrow at her as she shifts nervously.

  And then it occurs to me.

  Taking the sheet in my hand, I yank it off her, her little whimper falling on my deaf ears as I lock eyes on a small black bullet vibrator.

  My pulse speeds up, and I feel my cock instantly swell.

  She places her hands behind her, holding herself up with her knees arched up, and chews on her lip, turning her embarrassed eyes away.

  I can’t resist an amused smile. I lean down and hook the cord with a finger, picking it up, the black egg dangling in the air. “Thinking about me, were you?”

  A little snarl mars her fresh, morning face. “You wish, loser.”

  My chest rumbles with a laugh. Dropping the sex toy, I slide my hand between her legs, all the doubt and fear of a minute ago falling away as I slip the tip of my finger into her wet heat.

  “Did you come yet?”

  She tosses me another scowl, still looking away.

  Leaning into her ear, I whisper, “Do you have any idea how perfect you are?”

  Her breathing hitches, and she finally turns her face to me. I run my hand up her pussy, over her smooth, toned stomach, and just under her half-shirt, grazing the underside of her breast.

  “Show me what you do with it,” I beg.

  Her eyes flash up to me, worry and nervousness written all over her face.

  I glide my fingers over her hard nipples. “I’ll love everything you do. I promise.”

  She shakes her head.

  I grip her breast harder, a little whimper catching in her throat.

  “Do it now,” I growl, demanding.

  Her head falls back, and she squirms a little, clearly turned on, and I moan in her ear, my dick fucking solid.

  I hear the clank of the vibrator and remote, and stand up, backing away, so I can watch her. I expect her to lie back, stick the ball between her thighs, and start rubbing it on herself, but she doesn’t do that.

  Instead, she slowly turns over onto her stomach and slides the egg between her and the sheet, all the way down to her pussy.

  I sit down in the chair next to her bedside table, not blinking even once. I don’t want to miss a second.

  Bending a knee to spread herself open, she positions the ball right where she needs it, and I let my eyes fall down her body. The sexy little white T-shirt that ends halfway down her back, her perfect ass, her sexy, tanned legs, and when the buzzing begins…

  I groan, my cock straining against my jeans.

  She turns her head to me, her body supported up on her elbows, and I see her hips start grinding into the bed, her pussy rubbing against the hard little vibrating ball underneath her. I can barely breathe, I’m so fucking mesmerized.

  Her ass moves, rolling in little circles as she pleasures herself, and I hear her breathing get heavier. Looking up, I meet her eyes, one nearly hidden behind her hair.

  Her stare is hard as if her imagination has taken hold and it’s me she’s fucking instead of the toy.

  “You fuck that little ball a lot?” I ask, my voice husky.

  She nods slowly.

  “I like watching that ass move, babe.”

  “I can tell.” Her amused eyes fall to my groin, probably noticing how hard I am.

  She arches her neck back, running a hand up her thigh and over her ass, moaning and grunting faster as she starts to hump harder. Oh, fuck. The sexy movement of her hips, the way her ass thrusts in and out is the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

  Her heated eyes fall on me again, luring me in. “I’ve fucked a lot in this bed. Just never with someone else.”

  Well, it’s time to pop that cherry.

  “Oh,” she moans, her face twisted in pleasure. She grinds her pussy harder, digging into the bed and trying to rub her clit to orgasm.

  I lean forward, my elbows on my knees, hypnotized.

  “I’m so wet,” she whimpers. “I can feel it dripping over my clit.”

  I fist my fingers.

  “I like it when you watch me,” she whispers. “It makes me want to suck your cock.”

  My eyes go wide, and I stand up, walking over to her. Cupping her chin, I lean down, forcing her head back and her eyes up to me. “You’re a hot little brat,” I growl over her lips. “But only for me, you got that?”

  I grab her breast, squeezing it roughly and making her moan. This is mine.

  She darts her tongue out, flicking my lip ring. “I can feel you down my throat already.”

  I groan under my breath, the blood rushing to my cock. That’s it.

  I reach underneath her, pull out the vibrator and fling it onto the floor.

  “Wha—” she protests, but I kneel on the bed behind her, grab her hips and pull her up onto her hands and knees, smacking her ass.

  She yelps but follows it with a moan, inching her knees wider apart and arching her back, welcoming me. I pull my shirt off and over my head, tossing it to the floor. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a condom and unfasten my jeans, pulling out my cock and sheathing it.

  Is she on the pill? God, what I wouldn’t give to feel her bare right now.

  I roll the rubber on and guide my dick into her, thrusting once and hard, burying myself deep inside her.

  “Ohhhh,” she groans.

  I close my eyes, her tight heat wrapping around me and filtering through my whole damn body.

  Gripping her hips, I thrust in and out, pulling her heart-shaped ass into me hard and fast. “Damn, you feel good.”

  She holds herself up on her hands, her long hair spilling down her back and bouncing as I fuck her. Running one hand up her spine, I feel her body move and back up into my cock, eager to meet me halfway every time I enter her.

  I slide my hand up her neck and thread my fingers through her hair, fisting it. Pulling her back, I turn her head and kiss her, her tongue teasing me as she pulls away and comes back for more.

  I thrust harder, and the headboard starts hitting the wall.

  “You have to go slow.” She tilts her head back, closing her eyes in pleasure. “My mom and sister will hear.”

  “Fuck that,” I growl in her ear. “I’m not holding back again.”

  Last Friday night was agonizing, and while I enjoyed it, it was torture trying to contain myself so the truck wouldn’t rock and no one would hear her moaning.

  I pound into her, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room as I grunt and tense every goddamn muscle in my body. I know I’m hitting her deep, because her moans are getting faster and higher.

  “I’m going to do something a little illegal tonight,” I tell her, tugging at her ear lobe with my teeth. “You game?”

  “What is it?” she breathes out.

  “It’s a surprise. Don’t you trust me?”

  She scoffs. “Why would I trust you? The only thing I know about you is that you’ve got a nice body and you get me off good.”

  I can’t help the stupid, fucking pleasure that swarms my chest. I don’t want to be just a fuck to her, but I’m glad I please her in that area. She owns my head and my body. When she finds out who I am, will she remember how perfect we are?

  “You know more than that,” I whisper. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re my tribe, Ryen.”

  She pa
uses and looks me in the eyes. “What did you say?”

  Every part of my body tenses.

  Fuck. Tribe. She wrote that in a letter.

  Why did I say that?

  I deflect as quickly as I can. I lean forward and come down on her, pushing her down to the mattress and thrusting deeper and harder.

  “I said I won’t put you in danger.” I reach around and cup her face, turning her head and kissing her. “Come with me while everyone is at the game tonight.”

  She whimpers, her eyes falling closed, and I can feel her tightening around my cock.

  “Come on and make some trouble with me,” I say.

  “And get an insight into who the hell you are?” she shoots back, her breathing turning shallow and hard.

  “Maybe.”

  She nods, her eyebrows pinching together and looking like she’s about to come. “Okay.”

  I push into her, fucking her relentlessly, as electric shocks course through my stomach and stream all the way down to my dick.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she pants, arching up her ass to meet my thrusts.

  I cover her mouth with mine, our moans drowning out as we both come, her pussy squeezing like a vice grip around me. I thrust a few more times, wishing I could spill inside of her as pleasure washes over my whole body, and I eventually still.

  Damn, she’s perfect.

  I gnaw at her mouth in short, gentle nibbles. I love her lips, and the light sweat I can taste on her skin.

  A door closing sounds from out in the hall, and I gather her family is starting to wake up. My eyelids are suddenly heavy, and I breathe hard, trying to come down.

  I better get out of here.

  Looking down, I see her face resting on the bed, her eyes closed, looking very content. I slip my hand between her and the bed and squeeze her breast, placing one last kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Pom Poms. I’ll see you at school.”

  She makes a little growl in her throat, but her eyes remain closed, and I laugh to myself as I clean up and get dressed.

  “Do you think anyone will guess we got this shit from the bakery?” Lyla asks, holding up a stack of wrapped cookies.

  I take the clear plastic bag from her, tied with a red bow, and set it back down on the long plastic table. “It’s not shit. Because it’s from the bakery.”