“No!” they both shouted in unison.
“Why not? If you’re scared, I can ask my parents for you to come live with us for a bit.” I reassured him, only realizing what I had said once the words were out of my mouth.
They both laughed shortly, increasing my confusion, they looked at each other awkwardly and went back to scowling.
“It won’t help anything,” Xander said, “Besides, I’m not badly hurt.”
Ron chose this moment to go back to being a jerk, “You better not be. We have a game in four days, and I don’t plan on losing.”
We both glared at him, and I clicked my tongue, “Thank you for getting me here.”
He smirked, “Was that a dismissal? Anyway, you’re welcome, although this is not how most girls visit their boyfriends’ homes for the first time.”
Xander growled angrily, “Ron, shut up.”
I stepped in front of Ron, “You should go.”
He folded his arms defiantly, “Really, now? How ungrateful.”
“I am grateful, but now you’re upsetting Xander,” I said plainly.
He laughed, but I could see a hint of something else in his eyes, “Fine. You better have that arm healed before the game.”
He walked out silently, leaving Xander and I alone, confronted with the elephant in the room.
“Why did your dad hurt you?” I asked, moving to sit beside him.
He didn’t answer, and I was about to ask again when he said, “Forget what you saw here today.”
“Right, you don’t want to give me the truth,” I conceded, rising from the bed to leave.
“Charlie, wait.” He called out, “I’ll tell you, but you have to go.”
I blinked my tears away as he dismissed me as if I had not just rushed here to see if he was alive. The next words I uttered came from a place inside me that was more afraid of losing myself than losing him.
“If I walk out of this house right now, I’m walking out of your life and we’re officially done.”
Xander
My courage shook under the weight of her words. I wrapped my fist around the bed cover and squeezed my thigh with my other hand. Anything to fight the overwhelming urge I felt to reach for her and hold her until she forgot everything I had said wrong up until this moment.
“What?” I whispered, hoping her own resolve to leave me would crumble.
She continued to stare straight ahead, “You heard me.”
She took a step forward and I rushed to stand behind her, ignoring any acknowledgment of the power that she wielded over me. If ever she ran, I would run after her. I gently swept her hair off her shoulder, and she shivered. My fingers shook, a combination of the pain and being this near to her and knowing I couldn’t go too far. I wasn’t ready to tell her everything, and I knew she was angry at me right now, but the mere possibility of diving into the deep end with her despite it all sent heat through my bloodstream.
“Xander,” she breathed as I turned her slender neck towards me.
“Don’t go,” I pleaded, and I was almost ashamed of myself for it. “Please don’t leave me.”
She raised her head to face me, “Then tell me everything.”
I sighed, knowing that if I didn’t give her something, I would lose her. “I will, but not here, not now.”
“Then when?” she pressed.
I ran my hand through my hair, “After the game, I promise. I will tell you everything you need to know.”
She considered this for a moment, and I desperately hoped she would understand, “Okay, but if you leave anything important out, I’m gone.”
There was no mistaking the fact that she meant every word of it, and that also had me on edge. My feelings for her were stronger than hers for me, and I had never been on this side of the coin before.
“Deal.” I gave in, “Until then, can we go back to normal? I miss you.”
She smiled shyly as I wrapped my good arm around her waist and pulled her in. I nuzzled her cheek, and she turned her head to lock our lips together. I led her to the bed and pulled her down with me before settling her underneath me. I stared into her eyes as my hands wandered and I kissed her face. Her brown eyes held me under some potent spell, and I was admittedly bewitched. She wrapped her small hand around my neck, then her fingers massaged my scalp while her lips on my neck pursed and she hummed softly. I closed my eyes, trying to remind myself that either one of my parents could return at any moment, but that wasn’t strong enough to deter me from savouring the taste of her lips. My hand wandered above her breast and I searched her eyes for any doubts.
“Yes…please,” she squeezed them shut again.
I moved my hand up to her face, wanting every part of her marked by me. I wanted her to remember, whether the truth made her run or not, the feel of my hands on every inch of her skin. Most importantly, I wanted to remember. I wanted this moment burned into my brain, the way her skin felt hot to the touch, like an open fire to my flammable hands.
She arched her back, leaning into my touch, and the idea of this girl remotely wanting me set my bones aflame. Once again, I was hard as a rock and no longer felt my conscience pulling me back. When my hand covered her breast, her eyes flew open, then slowly shut as I squeezed and moulded gently. She felt perfect, and her heel pressing into my back brought us close enough for me to hear her little gasps. My head buzzed at being the one to make her like this, and I jealously prayed that no one else had before, and no one else would ever make her feel this wanton again.
Her hands went underneath my shirt, her nails scouring my back as she whimpered helplessly. The realization that even while she lay beneath me, Charlie had me completely at her mercy, almost blew me to smithereens. She pulled my shirt over my head and when her hand raised to touch me, I gripped her wrist and pinned her by both hands to the bed. I stared into her eyes and the fearlessness in them drove me wildly insane. Pulling her shirt up, I planted butterfly kisses on her stomach, lingering to dip my tongue into the hollow of her belly button. She shivered at the contact and I kept my pace slow until I reached her breasts. The light purple lace bra was a pretty barrier between my itching hands and her beautiful chest. I looked at her again, my gaze traveling from her feet to her gorgeous face, preparing myself for what I knew would be the point of no-return.
My eyes drank in the fullness of her perky mounds and I gulped. She smiled indulgently at me, and when I tried to tease her with my mouth, she lowered my head back to her breast. My mouth kissed the area surrounding the tip, and she meowed impatiently, her nails leaving punishing marks on my back. Promising to inspect her handiwork later, I latched my mouth onto her nipple and sucked it in. She bucked off the bed with a loud moan, and I covered her mouth with my hand. I continued to suck and swirl my tongue around her nipple, pausing to blow cold air on it.
She pushed into me, and I laughed hoarsely, “Relax, baby.”
Ignoring me, she drew my head to her other breast, and I resumed my worshipping of her while my fingers twisted and pulled the other nipple.
“Xander...” she whimpered, spurring me on.
“Yes…Charlie.”
I quickened my pace with both breasts, and she cried out and involuntarily bucked off the bed. Her eyes look startled just before her body trembled and she peaked into climax. I took in her beauty while her face contorted in utter bliss, marvelling at her, and how I was undeniably, indisputably in love with her.
She relaxed in my arms serenely, and I held her possessively, like a little boy who was claiming a boat because he had learned to float it. Just, she wasn’t a boat, she was the water, and I had dipped my tongue in and came out thirstier. She turned to look at me, her eyes a mixture of wander, lust and confusion, and I conveyed my understanding with a kiss to her plump lips.
Just as we were regaining our equilibrium, a piercing scream cut into the room. “Alexander!”
Jesus, Mary and Joseph…I. Was. Screwed.
She sat up on the bed in surprise and turned to me with
wide eyes. “Your dad?”
“Yes,” I said. “Give me a minute.”
I left her seated on the edge of the bed and rushed to intercept my father before he could see her in my room. He was just emerging from the staircase when I found him.
“What were you doing?” he asked coolly, evidently sober.
I didn’t answer his question, “Do you need me for anything?”
He looked down guiltily, and I knew what was coming. “I came to talk to you about last night. You know I was drunk and you and your mother-”
“Pushed you too far,” I finished for him with a bitter laugh.
The aftermath of my father’s outbursts was always the same: he would storm out, get sober, remember his position in society, then come home to shift the blame and remind everyone else of their duty to protect the family name from scandal.
He looked up at me angrily, “Boy, don’t be cheeky.”
I almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. I had inherited my maternal grandfather’s height, so I stood a full head taller than him, but I couldn’t do anything to him. I knew it pissed him off to have to look up at me, hence his demands that I sit down during our verbal exchanges.
“Yes, sir.” I said flatly.
He pursed his lips into a sinister frown, “And anyway, who would ever believe a troubled child over a grieving father-”
I almost punched him in the face, “You. Are. Not. Grieving.”
“Yeah, right. Better cover up those scratches on your arm,” he said, turning to go back.
“Scratches?” I asked incredulously.
He paused, “Yes, scratches. Be a man and get over it.”
Like he was being a man and handling his younger son’s accident?
The question was stuck on my lips, because I didn’t want to risk Charlie overhearing our conversation.
“You look like you have something to say,” he challenged.
“Well, I don’t.”
“I do,” he said. “Clean yourself up, we don’t want people thinking I abuse you.”
I stayed quiet, for Charlie. I didn’t want her to see me as the boy whose father picked on him while he did nothing because he wanted to save his broken family.
He went back down the stairs and I sighed, reminding myself that Cole was my main reason for staying in this god-forsaken town for college. And now, I had Charlie. The whole world could burn and I wouldn’t care.
Charlie
I rushed back to the bed when I heard his footsteps getting closer and tried to look nonchalant when he walked in. He glanced at me quizzically, and I knew I looked too nonchalant.
“Alright, how much of that did you hear?” he asked, settling himself opposite me.
“Not much,” I lied.
He smiled briefly, “Of course.”
I sighed at the awkward situation we had found ourselves in. Just a few minutes ago, Xander had given me my first orgasm…ever. He had made me feel something that my body had never felt before and blasted any other boy I’d ever liked into forgotten obscurity. I wondered briefly how he would feel inside of me, and whether it would be perfection. But looking at the boy who had just given me an intense orgasm without even venturing to my pussy, I knew that when we did do that, it would be mindblowing.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his black eyes taking me in.
I looked around me, trying to act like I couldn’t remember my own dirty thoughts, “Hmm?”
He raised an eyebrow, “You had a look just now, and it was, for lack of a better word, filthy.”
I scowled at him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, you’re going to tell me eventually,” he said knowingly.
I rolled my eyes at him, certain that I would not be telling him anything. I gasped when he was suddenly leaning over me and bathing me in that inky gaze of his. Seriously, black eyes were a different level of temptation.
“What?” I breathed, and his eyes lowered to my lips.
He didn’t answer, choosing instead to trap me to the wall with my body between his arms. I bit my lip in nervousness and his quirked up. He leaned in closer, bringing his lips only an inch from mine before retreating just as I was tilting my head for a kiss. He did this twice, laughing at my obvious irritation at his withdrawal. On his third attempt at teasing me, I blinked up at him in confusion.
“Don’t do that,” he blurted.
“Do what?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he clarified. “It just makes me want to do things to you.”
I licked my lips in anticipation, half feeling ashamed of the fact that where he was concerned, my brain was trailing my heart and hormones by a dangerously wide gap.
He shut his eyes and sighed in frustration, before turning his head to the wall and nodding for me to look. I turned to see his white and navy-blue basketball jersey hung on his closet. His last name, Hastings-Turner, was printed in bold burgundy at the back, just above the number twenty-two.
“Wow. I like it,” I said, still staring at the jersey.
“I should hope so,” he whispered. “Because that’s what you’ll be wearing to the game.”
I grinned at him, “So, this is the special jersey?”
“That’s the one,” he returned my grin, happiness radiating in his eyes.
I hummed, pouting to pretend it wasn’t that big a deal, “Okay. It’s cute, I guess.”
He laughed, leaving me to walk towards the closet, “See, I assumed you’d say something like that, so I decided to really impress your picky tastes.”
He brought it over to me, turned it around to the front and pointed his index finger to the words on the left side.
My eyes widened in shock. I couldn’t possibly wear this! I had had a feeling that he was more on the possessive side, but making me wear a jersey that had the words “Xander’s Charlie” printed on it was a bit much.
“What is this?” I blurted.
“That is your custom-made jersey, with special detail,” he said simply.
I laughed in disbelief, “No, this is you staking your claim on me for the world to see!”
He crossed his arms across his chest defensively, “You should be glad, I’m doing you a favour here.”
“And what favour might that be?” I glared at him, my irritation rising.
He scratched his head in that way I normally found adorable, but was too annoyed to at the moment. “I get that you’re new here, so you don’t know how rowdy these other guys can get. Trust me, I know college boys, especially the ones from here. They’ll want to flirt with you and fill your head with lies about how great they are.”
I stifled a laugh and blinked up at him innocently, “Really?”
He brushed his long hair away from his face, “Yes! They’re not like me.”
“Oh, they’re not possessive, overprotective and arrogant?” I asked, pursing my lips together.
“Yes-” he started, then he realized the trap he had just walked in to, “No! They’re not going to respect it when you insist that you’re hopelessly in love with me and I’m your oxygen.”
I almost laughed at that, “But will I insist on that though? For all we know, I might like the college boys here.”
He narrowed his eyes and pointed his index finger at me, “That statement right there is all the more reason for you to wear this. I will not be cheated on while I’m on the court.”
I burst into laughter, only to try and fake a cough when I noticed him looking at me, his eyes deadpan serious.
Clearing my throat, I pointed at the jersey in his hands, “And you think this tag you’re putting on me will keep the vultures away?”
He seemed to consider this for a moment, and although I found myself falling for every expression on his face, thoughtful Xander was my new favourite. “Hmm, I guess that’s something to think about.”
My concern over what he was now thinking had me suddenly wary of that expression on his face. I stayed in his r
oom for another hour, and only left after his father’s car pulled out of the driveway. Even with all the questions about his family roaming inside my head, I would wait until after the game to ask. I was far too happy with him like this, and I was scared things between us would change if, after the game, he went back on his word. But this fear was challenged by the fact that I knew that whatever he would tell me wouldn’t change the way I felt about him.
He drove me in my car back home, saying that he wanted to ensure my safety and he would also get some exercise running to school for practice in an hour and a half. We got to my house and when he got out to open the door for me, I smiled at his chivalry.
“Thank you,” I beamed up at him, “Be careful during practice.”
He smiled innocently at me, which in retrospect, should have been the red flag. “I would feel much better if I walked you to the door.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I assured him. “It’s just a few steps.”
“Exactly,” he gave me a devilish grin, “A few steps won’t ruin me for the game. Take this as beneficial for me on the boyfriend scale.”
“Oh, okay,” I looked at him in confusion.
He leaned his head to kiss me slowly, but I was flustered all the same. Not surprisingly, concerns over my dad opening the door and seeing us flew from my head. When Xander kissed me, it was just him and I.
He broke the kiss and took my hand, “Let’s go.”
I nodded at him, and he walked me to the door. I started to say goodbye when he surprised me by knocking the door. My eyes flew open in shock, “What are you doing?”
“Knocking,” he blinked at me.
“Xander!” I whispered, “My dad is probably in there.”
He put his hand over his mouth in mock surprise, “What? You don’t say.”
I frowned at him and started to push him towards the driveway when the door opened, and my dad looked at us questioningly.
Great.
“Dad, hi!” I said nervously.
“Hi angel, and who is your friend here?” he asked seriously.
I stared between the two of them pleadingly, just wishing for this to be a prank the universe was playing on me. I had never introduced a boy to my dad, ever. He had known about them, but had never met any one.
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