by Marci Fawn
She scoffs and grunts, finally getting it on past her long, lovely hair. She giggles nervously, and then raises a hand to her mouth in shame like she’s trying to hide the sounds that just came out of her pretty mouth. She smiles at me and I can’t help smiling back at my lovely girl.
“Let’s go somewhere,” I say.
“Where?” Her voice is curious and excited. She’s like a little girl, but there’s nothing childish about her new curves, the delicious way she licks her lips when she catches me looking at her mouth. “Where are you taking me, River?”
“I know just the place,” I tell her with a devilish grin, and motion for her to get on the bike. In moments, we’re off.
I love how her hands feel clinging to my back.
I don’t know where we are going to go until we are turning onto an exit and already half way there. Faith has been clinging to me for a while now, and it’s so hard having her so close. The situation, that is.
And my dick.
Fuck. No.
We both turn our bodies – she’s a fast learner, and a good passenger – so the bike swerves to the left, and I park. I hop off, holding my hand out to her.
She doesn’t take it, smiling a shy smile at me. I saw it in her eyes the minute she decided to do it herself.
“Fine, baby,” I mutter.
But I’ll still take care of her. I grab both sides of her face, pulling the helmet away from her and throwing it in the compartment. Faith looks around the street, her eyes confused and then knowing as she takes everything in. She’s so goddamn beautiful.
“River,” her voice is exasperated. So cute. “This is a tattoo parlor.”
“Yeah? You think I’m blind, Faith Collins?” I have perfect eyesight, unlike her. I flick the edge of her glasses, loving how indignant she gets as she adjusts them again.
“Shut up,” she mutters. Pretty sure I heard a curse in there. It only makes me smile harder. “I can’t get a tattoo, River.”
“Well, yeah,” I wrap an arm around her, getting used to how her body feels against mine, even though I’ve hardly explored any of her skin. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t.”
She’s staring at me, and slowly, a smile appears on her lips. “River,” she breathes in shock. “You can’t be serious.”
I shrug. “Why not? I’ve wanted a tattoo for ages. And I know just what to get. I’ve known for a long time, actually.” I grin at her wickedly, grab her hand and drag her towards the parlor.
We walk inside and I can feel Faith trembling. There’s an intimidating inked biker guy at the reception desk and he raises an eyebrow when we walk in. “And just what do you two lovebirds want?” he asks, looking amused as hell. I stand as proud and tall as I can manage. “A tattoo of each other’s names?”
I keep staring, and the guy laughs.
“Fucking hell. Well, as long as you’re legal and you won’t sue me tomorrow,” he grins at me, pointing for me to come over. He gives Faith a doubtful look. “Not her, though. She looks like a toddler.”
Faith rolls her eyes before remembering the guy is three times her size. She blushes and looks at the floor and I grin, pulling her after me.
“Just me,” I tell the biker dude. “Her name.”
Faith looks up in shock, and I can feel her burning gaze on my skin.
“Her name, Faith. On my chest.”
“Your funeral, kid,” the guy shrugs and prepares a place for me to sit down. “Shirt off. Hope your lady friend doesn’t pass out.”
Indeed, Faith looks like she’s about to when I pull my shirt off. I know my body looks good. I’ve been hitting the gym long and hard to make sure it’s on point. But Faith likes me for more than just my looks. I’ve known that for years.
As the guy prepares his tools, Faith stands next to me and holds my hand.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks me softly when the dude isn’t looking. “You don’t need to prove a point to me, you know.”
I look at her, and I remember what I’ll have to tell her soon. I remember the contract I signed exactly one year ago, on my eighteenth birthday. I’d be leaving for another state too soon… Tomorrow.
I’ve known this for a while now, but the chance to tell Faith never came up. I knew it would hurt her, and she never let me close enough to explain things. But I need to be with her tonight, my last night in this fucking town. I’ll deal with the fallout later.
“I want to,” I say simply. “I want a reminder of you, Faith… For the rest of my life.”
“How fucking romantic,” biker man chuckles and Faith blushes. I grit my teeth as the needle digs into my skin – the first of many tattoos I want. But this one will always have a special place in my heart.
I am so fucking screwed. When my old man sees the tat, he’ll blast my ass off with a shotgun.
I regret nothing, though. Never would, not when it comes to my girl.
“Let me see,” Faith says as soon as I get out of the chair. Her voice is begging, and concerned. I like that she cares so much.
I stand to attention once she comes closer and inspects her name on my chest in cursive. For all his loudmouthing, the biker guy did a really nice job. I give him the money my dad gave me for my date with Faith, knowing he’ll fucking kill me the next day.
Not if I leave early enough, though.
Faith squeals with excitement when she sees her name on my pecs. “I shouldn’t love it, but I do,” she says shyly. “I can’t believe you did that for me. I hope you never regret it, River…”
“Never,” I say, determined to stay true to my word. I smooth down her hair and kiss her tenderly.
I’m dead beat. After all, the night has passed. It’s early morning now. Two a.m., if my guess is right. She should be getting home or her dad will throw a fit.
“It’s late. Your dad will be angry if you’re not in your bed like a good girl.”
“I’m not a child, River, I can go to bed when I want to.” She practically runs out of the door of the tattoo shop.
“Never said you couldn’t.” I’m trying to stay calm, not that it’s really working. “But he’s probably not thrilled about you staying out with some random guy.”
She flashes an evil grin at me, but I don’t give a fuck. That Jason guy should get lost once and for all. I’m hoping she’ll sass back some more and give me an excuse to spank her. “So are you going to your place or mine?”
I don’t want to take her home with me. Not because I don’t want her there with me. I do, more than anything. But my family… Fuck. And her father lives right next door.
For a minute, she’s silent. She doesn’t stop. We walk without speaking a word, and I keep my head down, wondering just how badly I fucked up. I look at her from the corner of my eyes.
Her. Face. Is. So. Goddamn. Red.
“You’re… I… I don’t know.” She bites her lip.
Shit. She’s actually considering it. This girl will be the end of me.
“You don’t have to. It was just a stupid thing to say…” I keep myself from reaching out and running a finger down her mouth. Damage control. I can’t think well enough to make her feel better if I’m touching her.
“It’s not that I don’t want to. And I do. It’s just. I,” she stutters. Finally, finally, she looks up at me. “I want to.”
Fuck it.
I drag my finger down her mouth as slowly as I dare, feeling goose bumps erupt on my skin as I touch her. I shouldn’t feel this way over a girl. But damn it to hell, I always have when it comes to Faith.
Maybe it’s not my old man going soft.
Maybe… Just maybe… It’s me.
“We can go to this place…” I reply. Just as quietly.
We stare at each other for a long time, and then finally, she nods.
Oh god.
It’s not a beach house or anything special. Just my secret spot.
Our secret spot, I remind myself. We haven’t been in here in years, since the summer before we started middle
school and wondered if this meant we wouldn’t be seeing each other much anymore. Sixth grade was around when the sports teams started breaking up my gender, and sixth grade was when my father decided I needed to man up. I picked after years of sucking at football. I’d made the right call.
No wonder I was scrawny until a year ago.
But it took up all my time for a while, and although I’d tried to spend as much time with Faith as I could’ve, we hadn’t been in here since then.
I watch her, gauging her reaction. Waiting.
Fuck! I’m a confident guy…
Except with Faith. Especially not with her, and especially as she scales the little ladder outside and I worry she’ll fall and I’ll have to catch her again. Thinking about having her in my arms has gotten me in trouble before.
We are in my old treehouse, out in the woods that you can only reach from a mostly-hidden path in my backyard.
Now we are silent. I could take beatings in the ring when I first started, tough love from my family, and fights with other people. But I can’t fucking take this. The tension… it’s killing me.
She stands a foot away from me, but it feels like a mile. Her hair slopes down over her shoulder so beautifully, and her eyes are nervous. Downcast, blue and so gorgeous. I move to her, wanting to touch her first. She surprises me when her hands touch my shoulders.
“I want this,” she says in a breathy voice. Before I get a chance to react, she kisses my neck. It is barely a kiss, just her lips brushing my skin, but it undoes me completely. “I always wanted you to be my first, River.”
Fucking hell.
I don’t say anything. My hand buries itself in the thick of her hair, pulling her neck so she arches her back for me as my mouth violates her perfect, innocent skin. My hands fall to her shirt, pulling the sleeves away from her as she struggles to get my shirt off. I pull away from her for just a second, ripping the fabric away from my body to reveal my abs, before getting her shirt off as well.
I want to fuck her like the beast I am.
There is no way she can take it. She’s just had her first kiss hours ago. I growl in frustration as her hands slide up my sides, her fingers digging into me as she pulls herself closer to me.
This is what we are. The boxer beast and the innocent, gorgeous geek girl.
My hands slide down to her juicy ass, down into her jeans and her panties. I grab her by the waist and place her down onto the small mat we’ve kept in here ages ago for sleepovers.
My hands find the button and zipper on her jeans, and I pull them away from her, needing to see her naked. My cock throbs, wanting to bury itself as deep as it can inside her wetness… Only to then pull out and shove back in again as she moans my name, coming for me, coming into her…
Her hands help me when the denim gets stuck on her thighs.
No.
The need to be the boss here is so fucking strong. She’s so small in my arms. So vulnerable, so tiny and innocent.
And I want to fucking ruin her.
We are not equals here. We both chose this, but she is mine to take. God knows she’s already put a claim on me.
I grab her hands and pull them over her head, growling a reminder for her to keep them there. She does, her whole body shaking.
I know I am shaking, too. I rip away her bra from her body, kissing down her neck, her collarbones, showering her beautiful breasts in kiss upon kiss. I suck a nipple into my mouth, moving from her right tit to her left, stopping to look at them as they harden.
For me. All for me. Her eyes close and drift to the back of her head as she gasps, my hand roaming down her stomach towards her pussy.
Clothing isn’t optional right now.
Her panties tear as I steal them from her, my hand gripping up to her sex and clutching it hard. I squeeze her, rubbing fingers along her slit, listening to her breathing to see what she likes, not wanting to hurt her, but wanting to dive in so fucking badly it hurts.
“I want you,” I growl against her skin. I am kissing her, kissing her throat again, moving down her body. “I’m gonna fuck you now, Faith Collins. Is that what you want?”
She whimpers a yes as I abandon my jeans, pulling down my boxers and shoving them both to the side.
Now my manliness is taking over. I’m nothing but my primal instinct, which is shouting things at me, making my head pound with desperation.
Need.
Have.
Want.
Take.
I take her small hand in mine, placing it on the head of my cock. Her eyes open in shock at the feeling, but she’s brave. She touches me, feeling the velvety soft tip, the hardness of my shaft.
Faith.
My beautiful bookish girl… She’s never felt a cock before.
I smirk at her knowingly, gripping her hand and placing it along the shaft like I have every time I’ve pictured her touching me just like this.
“Fuck…” I swear, not expecting her to know how to touch me, her hand roaming my dick as she moves up and down. Hesitantly, then more confidently, but still so gentle. I can’t help myself, I have to tell her again. “I want you, Faith. Now. Right the fuck now.”
All I hear is her high-pitched reply. “Then take me.”
And I lose it.
I take her hand away from her, pulling it back over her head to stay still as I’d commanded her to in the first place. I grip her thighs and spread them open, revealing her glistening pink pussy… The tip of my cock rubs against her sex. I take it in my hand, dragging it repeatedly over her opening, wanting to just shove in. She gulps, letting out a small whimper as she looks at me.
And then I can’t fucking take it anymore. This has to happen. I’ve been wanting her for too long, I’ve spent too long without my baby.
I’m suddenly inside her, the head of my cock urging forward as she gasps.
“Not a virgin anymore, baby,” I rasp at her, greedily kissing her neck.
I grab her hair, making her look at me as her head moves back in shock. She disobeys me, her arms moving to hold onto me as I push my cock deeper inside her.
“God, Faith, you’re tight,” I groan, feeling the walls of her pussy squeezing my dick. I know what’s coming, even if she doesn’t.
“Fill me up,” she begs. “Fuck, River, please… I need to feel it inside me.”
I want to stop.
I want to reconsider.
I want to think of the reprecussions.
I can’t.
I pump inside her, lasting longer than I thought I could. Finally, one of her long, sensual moans undoes me and I can feel it coming, feel my orgasm approaching faster than ever. I spill my seed inside her, groaning her name into her mane of hair.
And I pump some more, pushing my cum so deep inside her she begs, whether for me to stop or go harder, I don’t know.
Faith.
Finally mine.
41
Faith
I don’t feel that different.
I kind of expected to, especially after reading all those romances where the hero and heroine wind up together forever after a night of love.
I sigh, staring in the mirror at my body. Life will go on just like before... But it will be so, so much better now.
Sure, debate club will take place every Friday, and girls will still make fun of me for being nerdy, but now I have River. My handsome River.
I don’t know if he is mine, though… Or if I should ask him to be. My cheeks flush red at the thought and I feel my skin itch. It feels like only his touch will make me better now.
Stop it.
I have to stop it.
Or not. I don’t want to.
River still lives right next door. He is an adult now, almost a full year older than barely-eighteen-years-old me. He will still live with his parents for a while, at least until he takes off for college in the fall. Maybe he will take me with him. I mean, I have my own plans for college, but… I’d probably change them to fit in with whatever he has in mind.
>
I can only focus on River right now, and the happy feelings in my chest and… other places when I think of him.
River isn’t that far away.
I could go over there right now. Ask him about us.
That seems so lame, though…
“Ugh,” I groan out loud. It isn’t the good type of groan I learned to associate with River. I make myself think rationally.
I’m so desperate to see him and talk to him again, but then again it has only been a night. I shouldn’t be thinking about this. I’m a good girl. I adjust my classes, wanting to break free of that mold but feeling so uncomfortable with something so… Dangerous.
But River is dangerous. And he makes me feel safe. It was his birthday yesterday and I hope it was his best birthday, because it was the best day for me, too. But only “too” if he felt the same way.
I have to go talk to him.
I adjust my skirt, wearing another one of those numbers I probably outgrew a while back. Before, old me would have thrown this in the back of my closet in embarrassment at the realization. But… Now? I hope River notices where the fabric ends.
It sure as heck isn’t at my knees.
My skin is clammy. I have to leave right away, before I lose the courage to speak to River.
My hands feel hot as I move the old door knocker, the kind you clang against the door from the outside.
Their house is kind of old, too, I realize. Maybe, as much as River pretends his family is okay, they sometimes have troubles, too.
I adjust and readjust my skirt as I wait for an answer, chewing on my bottom lip as the seconds go by. I slam the knocker against the strike plate again, and again.
River seemed to like it when I was strong.
And I’m not that weak.
I can totally defend myself.
Not that the door is attacking me… Just in general.
“Please answer,” I groan, throwing the knocker down one final time.
Looking through the window, I see his mother’s mouth move as she shouts for someone. Probably for someone to get the door, but no one comes. She sets a baby down on the couch – was it Jake? Josh? I can’t remember which one is which, and it makes my heart hurt. Only a year ago, I would’ve been able to differentiate River’s twin brothers from a mile away.
