by Amy Brown
“He did?” She blinks at me.
Now that I’m close to her, I can smell the alcohol on her breath. I wonder if she can smell the tequila on mine. Her body is warm, and being so near to her makes me hard. I expect her to shove me away, and run back to the house. Maybe she’ll even get all the kids to form a mob around me, and they’ll tear me limb from limb.
She’s practically in my lap because of the way she fell. When she shifts her weight toward me, I’m surprised. “Jeremey texted you, and you came over here?”
I shrug, feeling like an idiot. I’m not sure why I can’t think up some lie to save my pride. My brain is on strike. All I can do is stare at her, feeling humiliated.
Her face is mostly in shadow, but I see her lips curve in a strange smile. “Why did you come here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Were you watching me?” Her voice slurs slightly, and I realize she’s drunk.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I just stare at her, unable to speak. I’m not about to admit my insane need to see her. It’s bad enough I’m here, do I really need to also spill my guts?
“You want me, don’t you?” Her voice is hushed.
“I’m fucked up in the head, that’s all I know,” I mutter.
She moves closer, and her breasts brush against my chest. “Why can’t we stay away from each other?”
“No idea.”
Her breaths are quick. “What if I told you I’ve been thinking about you tonight?”
“You mean in between flirting with that blond guy?” I hate that I sound jealous. I shouldn’t have even mentioned that other guy.
“You saw that?” She gives a little laugh. “I don’t want him.”
“What the fuck do you want, Charity?”
“Right now? You.”
Shock and lust zip through me, but I don’t move for her. Is this some kind of trick? Is she teasing me so that she can then reject me? Humiliate me? “Yeah, right.”
“I mean it. Right now, I just want you.” She leans closer, and her heady perfume fills my nostrils. “When you touch me… it’s so good.”
“You’re as crazy as me,” I rasp.
“Make me feel good, Mason,” she whispers. “I’m sick of thinking so much, I just want to feel.”
Testing the waters, my hands move to her thighs. Her dress has ridden up, exposing her underwear, and my heart begins to bang loudly. It would be so easy to take what I need, and God I do need her.
She leans closer, pressing her full lips to mine. My dick stiffens painfully, and I slide my hands around her to pull her tighter against me. I stick my tongue into her willing mouth, and she whimpers. I can’t believe this is happening. I thought she’d discover me in the gazebo and rat me out. But instead, she’s offering herself to me.
She straddles me, her thighs on either side of my hips. “Unzip my dress.”
I comply, lust making me stupid and obedient. As the zipper lowers with a little hiss, she shrugs out of the top part of her dress, exposing her beautiful breasts. She’s not wearing a bra, and I take one pert nipple between my lips. She groans, and rocks her hips, rubbing her pussy against my jean covered erection.
“Is this a dream?” she mumbles. “I wanted you so bad tonight, is this a dream?”
She wanted me. Hearing her say that is pure joy. She didn’t want that blond guy she was flirting with. She didn’t want Jeremy. She wanted me. She wants me. Just like I want her. We both know this is nuts, but we don’t seem to care. We crave each other. Our desire is twisted, self-destructive, and foolish, but it’s impossible to ignore.
“I had to see you,” I mutter, feeling stupid, but also oddly free by admitting that to her. I suck and bite her nipples, and kiss them soothingly when she cries out. I want to hurt her, and love her, and fuck her, and punish her.
Love her?
Shock shudders through me as that thought takes root. Is it possible I’m falling in love with Charity? The bitch drives me crazy, and not just with lust either. She annoys me and makes me want to punch a wall. But she also challenges me and makes me laugh. I can’t go an hour without thinking of her, and I crave her body all the time. All. The. Fucking. Time.
Her mouth finds mine, and all rational thought leaves me. Her taste and her touch, it’s definitely like a mind altering drug. My brain short circuits when she slips off her panties. I can smell her musky arousal, and I undo my zipper, tugging my cock out through the slit in my briefs. I don’t have a condom. I’ve never taken a girl bare in my life, but I’m considering it. The thought of not sliding inside her is unthinkable. I don’t think I have the strength to stop.
Her tongue wiggles against mine salaciously, she’s teasing and coaxing. She wants me to fuck her. She’s making it impossible not to need that. Her bare pussy is pressed to my dick, and all it will take is one hard thrust and I’ll be inside her.
No. Don’t do that to her.
I’m not the most considerate guy in the world. The fact I’m growing a conscience right now is shocking to me. But I know it’s the right thing. Even though she’s rubbing against me, and inviting me to take her bare, I won’t.
“Fuck me,” she whispers, winding her arms around my neck.
“I don’t have a rubber.” My voice is flat. Disappointed.
She hesitates, but then moans, “I don’t care. Just fuck me.”
Oh, God. I have to grit my teeth and force myself to ignore her pleading words. “No, baby.”
She pulls back, looking surprised. Her lips are plump from my kisses, and confusion shines in her gaze. “You don’t want to?”
I give a humorless laugh. “Oh, I want to.”
“Then do it.” She kisses me, rocking against me again. “I want to know what it feels like when you come in me bare.”
Fucking Christ, Charity.
I want to yell that at her. Does she think I’m a machine? Does she not realize that my self-control is hanging by a string? I decide reasoning with her won’t work because she’s as drunk as I am. So instead I make my point without words. I move her to where she’s on her back. With her legs spread, I get the most glorious view of her pussy. Forcing myself to resist fucking her, I lower my head between her thighs.
“I want your cock,” she whines, but a gasp escapes her lips when my tongue licks her clit. “Mason,” she whispers.
I missed her taste. God, I love her smell and the way her clit quivers when I suckle her. She arches her back when I push my tongue inside her, fingering her little nub of pleasure. Her nails dig into my hair, and she wraps her legs around my neck. She’s such a greedy little slut, but I love it.
She grabs her breasts, squeezing and tugging her nipples. “Ah… ah… please.” She wiggles against my face, and I do my best to pleasure her.
My tongue is so deep inside her, my nose presses her clit. I stroke my cock, wishing I didn’t have morals. I wish I was the kind of guy who’d just use Charity. But I can’t do it. I still have that weird need to protect her, even as I want to destroy her.
I curl my tongue and she comes hard, her juices washing over my seeking tongue. She shudders and groans, as little aftershocks of pleasure jolt through her over and over. I’m on the verge too, but I wanted her to come first. I love tasting her and watching her lose control. Once she stops moving and moaning, I sit up and start jacking myself hard. I lean over her and shoot a thick creamy stream over her tits, and she smears it over her nipples.
“That’s a lot of cum,” she says softly.
Groaning, I rub my throbbing dick until I’m drained, and then I slump against her knees. She gets me so turned on, it’s a miracle I controlled myself at all tonight. I wanted to fuck her so bad, but I’m relieved I somehow held on to my sanity. Looking down at her, my heart squeezes. My insatiable need for her gives her way too much power over me.
I pull a Kleenex from my back pocket, hoping it’s unused. I use that to wipe the cum from her breasts, and I stand. I tuck my dick away, and strai
ghten my clothes, as she stares up at me, her legs still spread, her expression pure bliss. Eventually, she sits up, and I help zip her dress. I assist her in getting to her feet.
Her expression is no longer blissful, she presses her hand to her temple. “Shit. That was just stupid.”
“Yeah.” I’m not surprised she’s coming to her senses now. Her lust is fading and her brain is back on line.
“I can’t believe we did that. Drunk or not, that was insanity.” She flicks me a disgusted glance.
“I agree,” I say tersely.
She clenches her fists, her cheeks flushed. “I still hate you. That hasn’t changed.”
“I didn’t think it had.”
“I’ll never forgive you for threatening Luke. Never.”
I scowl. “Did I ask for forgiveness?”
“No. Of course not. You don’t think you’re doing anything wrong.” She smooths a hand over her dress. “I let my physical needs outweigh my logic. God, I’m an idiot. It… it won’t happen again.”
“Same.” It shouldn’t have happened this time. I never should have come over here, sniffing around her like a dog in heat. What is wrong with me? How come all she has to do is crook her finger, and I come running with my dick out?
She moves to the steps, and with her spine stiff, stalks down them. Then without looking back, she marches toward the house. I watch her go, feeling annoyed and something else. I can’t quite put my finger on the second emotion. It borders on irritation, but it’s different. Frustration? Is that what it is? Am I frustrated because I can’t have Charity in my life, and still get all the other things I want?
I’m too tired for introspection. Instead, I leave the gazebo, and hurry in the direction of my truck. This was a mistake. Coming here, lusting after Charity, is never going to solve anything. The sooner she’s gone the better. I just want to go back to how things were before she arrived at Longhorn Academy.
I was caught up in the heat of the moment earlier. There’s no way I’m falling in love with Charity. I’m confusing sex with real feelings, and the tequila had me muddled. That’s all those foolish thoughts were; lust and booze.
As I cross the front yard, a guy walks past me, and then he stops. “Hey, what are you doing here?” he rasps.
I keep walking, head down, trying to get to my truck before he can call attention to me. Unfortunately, he follows me.
“Mason, right? You’re not supposed to be here.” He gives an unkind laugh. “Guys, we have a party crasher.”
Fuck.
The hairs on the back of my neck stiffen as three guys join him. Two of them block my path to my truck. Not good. They look drunk and angry. The first guy is by far the soberest, that’s probably why he recognized me.
I address the main guy. “I don’t want any trouble.”
They all laugh, which sends a chill down my spine.
“If you don’t want trouble, what the fuck are you sneaking around here for?” One of them grumbles.
I have no answer for them. I can’t very well tell them I came here to spy on Charity, but since I’ve finished pleasuring her, it’s time to go.
“Cat got your tongue?” One of them sneers.
I hold up my hands. “Look, I’m leaving.”
The first guy comes closer, his face dark and menacing. “Not just yet.”
This shit would never happen if Jeremy hadn’t ousted me for thirty days. These pricks wouldn’t dare. But right now, I’m easy pickings. “You know, I won’t always be shunned,” I say in a hard voice.
“Oh, fuck, is that a threat?” The first guy laughs. His laugh is not pleasant.
“Damn right,” I growl. I feel being aggressive is the only way I’m going to maybe get out of this. “I have a good memory for faces.”
One heavy set kid, with red hair, scowls. “You and your friends made my little sister’s life hell. She ended up transferring because that bitch Sophia wouldn’t leave her alone.”
“I’m not Sophia.”
“No, but you’re all the same,” he mutters. “We’re sick of it.”
“Yeah,” the first guy says. “Charity opened our eyes to the fact that The Elites aren’t untouchable.”
Sniggering, the red-haired guy says, “She got you good.”
Irritation scratches at me, but I force a laugh. “I underestimated her.”
“I think you underestimate all of us,” mutters the first guy. “Why we put up with it for so long is a mystery.”
I take a step toward the two guys blocking me, hoping it will subconsciously make them move. It actually works, and they part enough that I could walk through. Unfortunately, the red-haired guy and his buddy aren’t going to let me go that easy.
“Hold up,” the red-haired guy says.
The first guy grabs my arm. “Yeah, we’re not done talking to you.”
“Fuck off. I say we are done here.” I shove him away, but my bluster doesn’t work. The red-haired guy lunges for me, he’s heavy, and we crash to the ground. He starts punching me, and I do my best to block his fists, but I’m in a vulnerable position and he lands a lot of blows. I twist my body, throwing him off balance, and I scramble to my feet, but the other three tackle me.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Maybe I’d have a chance if it was just one or two guys, but four? I’m fucked. They start pounding on me, and all I can do is grit my teeth and take it. I try to fight back, but I’m no match for four angry guys with years of pent up aggression.
There’s a group of kids near the porch of the house, probably within shouting distance, but for some reason I don’t yell for help. Maybe it’s pride, maybe it’s because my jaw aches so badly, I’m afraid it’s broken. I hoped at first this was just going to be a verbal warning, you know, put me in my place for all the years of blah, blah, blah. But these guys came to play. As they slam their fists into me, even in the inky dark night, I can see the fury in their eyes.
I do manage to get a few punches of my own in, hopefully that makes them easier to spot at school. I’m not going to forget these four. They’ll pay for attacking me. I don’t mean I’ll call the cops on them either. That’s far too limiting a way to punish someone. No, I’ll get their names and bide my time.
Something spooks them, I have no idea what. Certainly no one comes to my rescue. But something has them scattering like roaches into the night. I lie where they left me, crumpled and breathing hard. My face and torso took the brunt of it, and I groan and stumble to my feet.
One of my eyes is swelling shut, and my face throbs. I manage to get to my truck, and with shaking fingers press the key fob to unlock the pickup. Once inside, I lock the doors, and slump on the steering wheel. Coming here was stupid. Dangerous. I can’t let my lust for Charity lead me around by the nose anymore. It’s going to get me killed.
I take a look at myself in the rearview mirror. Blood trickles from my mouth and nose, and purple bruising is already forming under the skin around my eyes. I could murder Charity and Jeremy right now. Between the two of them, they’re fucking up my senior year royally. I should be having the best year ever, and instead I’ve been shunned and beaten, in the space of a fucking week.
It’s hard to see with just the one good eye, but eventually I manage to get the key in the ignition. I have a horrible headache as I drive toward the main road. I’ll be lucky if I don’t have a concussion, but I don’t want to go to the ER. I don’t want my parents or the authorities getting involved in this fight. I’ll make up some bullshit lie about getting jumped at the gas station or something. If I decide to go after those guys, I can’t have any evidence there was animosity between us beforehand, or that leads everybody straight back to me.
When I get home, I tiptoe to the kitchen. I grab some ice, and then head to my room, praying I don’t run into my mom. Once in my room, I strip down to my briefs, and crawl into bed. I put the ice in a sock, and hold it to my pounding head.
When thoughts of Charity come to me, I’m pissed. That bitch is the reaso
n I’m lying here broken and alone. Why can’t I stop thinking about her? Since she arrived on the scene, she’s brought me nothing but misfortune. I’ll admit, I was wavering about my threat to use Luke against her. But after tonight, I’m more determined than ever to get rid of her.
Even with my new resolve though, it’s a frustrating truth that, Charity’s beautiful blue eyes are the last thing I think about before I pass out.
Chapter Twelve
Charity
When I go back inside the house, I feel conspicuous. Do I smell of sex? Do I look like I just got off? Is there cum on my dress, and I’m too blind to notice it? I definitely don’t feel in a party mood anymore. I’m ashamed and embarrassed I let Mason touch me again. After the threat he made against Luke, I should be repulsed by him. Part of me is, but part of me… it just can’t get enough of him. I wasn’t thinking about my brother in that moment, all I could think about was the desire I felt for Mason.
It’s almost midnight and we need to go home. Paula’s mom gave her a 11:30 curfew, and I want to leave anyway. Patrick is still hovering, but I’m no longer in the mood to flirt. I feel bad but, that ship sailed the minute Mason showed up, reminding me my body only responds to him. I’m a shameless whore who lusts after a guy so despicable, he threatens ten-year-olds to get what he wants.
As we leave the party, Gregory and Patrick both look sad to see us go. Paula is sober by now, which is a blessing. The last thing I’d want to do is call Mom and Fred to come pick us up from this party.
On the drive home, Paula chats happily, oblivious to my inner turmoil. I’m glad she has her excitement over Gregory to distract her. I don’t want to have to explain why I’m quiet and depressed. It sounds like her and Gregory are finally moving toward more than just friends. Even in my funk, I’m super happy for them.
When I finally get home, I wash up and scuttle into bed, feeling miserable. I’m running out of time to come up with a scheme to stay at Longhorn. My one consolation about my behavior tonight is that Mason is as big a mess as me. He actually admitted he came to that party to see me. I don’t know why he told me that, or why it matters to me. His vulnerability in that moment is what made me kiss him. I forgot all about how mad I was, and between the booze and his openness, gave myself over to him.
