I sigh. I should have known this was coming. “She’s an old friend that I haven’t seen in years and I just wanted to catch up. That’s all.”
That’s not all and my dick knows it too. It’s still twitching a little from our encounter. Amy’s stoic and I know why. She wants to say more, but she knows full well that it’s not her place to. Instead, she puts on a fake smile, threads her arm through mine, and tugs me toward her. “Come with me.”
I smile when I see the mischief in her eyes. “Where are we going?”
She cocks one eyebrow my way. “You’ll see. I promise it’ll be worth it.” She tugs on my arm more forcefully. Intrigued by what she’s got up her sleeve, I follow.
She leads me back into the college—I have no idea why. Amused, I watch her as she stalks down the hall with my hand in hers as she’s looking for something. She’s been in this college before, so she knows her way around a bit. No doubt if she could have studied Cosmetology here, she would be. We get to a quieter hall where there’s no one around and she starts pulling open random doors—doors she knows aren’t classrooms, but she’s certainly trying to find one room in particular.
“Amy, what are you doing?”
“Shh,” she utters, placing her hand up in front of my face. She then tries two more doors until she hits the broom cupboard. “Aha!” she shouts, pulling me into a rather large broom cupboard space. She sets me by the wall inside before closing the door. We’re in complete darkness now.
“Amy, why are we here?”
“Shh,” she says again, against my lips before she starts rubbing her hand against my cock. Something tells me I should stop this, but then I’m annoyed as to why I should. How many times have I let something like this happen between Amy and me and I never thought anything of it?
“I want to suck your cock, baby,” she whispers, trailing kisses down my jaw toward my neck.
Again, I can’t get hard. I wonder if I should tell Amy to stop, but then—in complete darkness—I allow my mind to wander. I think about Caitlin and her shapely legs, perfectly rounded ass, and gorgeous hazel eyes staring back at me—begging me to touch her. That tiny glance of desire she offered me flits through my mind again and within an instant my dick’s as stiff as a board.
“Do you want me to suck you?”
It’s Amy’s voice, and as much as I know I’m an asshole right now, I lock Amy’s voice out and pretend it’s Caitlin speaking. “Yes,” I answer, pushing her down toward my erection.
I hear the zipper of my jeans come down before she reaches in and pulls out my throbbing cock. I close my eyes and thread my fingers through her hair, hissing when her tongue touches my shaft. I fist her hair, pretending it’s the soft strands Caitlin owns that I have in my possession. I groan when her lips surrounds the tip of my cock and push forward, trying to gain entry into her mouth. It’s warm, soft and when a picture comes into my head of Caitlin’s lips around my cock, I groan, a surge of pre-cum no doubt forming. She licks around the tip and down my shaft before placing me in her mouth again. I grip her hair once more, pushing her onto my cock. Flashes of Caitlin form in my mind, imagining that it’s her on her knees pleasuring me.
“Fuck!” I hiss as she bobs her head up and down on my dick. She’s going faster now and it’s making my head spin. “That’s it, baby,” I say, encouraging her on. She moans around my cock and the vibrations make my head spin further. I want to prolong it—make this feeling of imagining Caitlin sucking my dick last longer, but I also know that thinking about it will not make this last long at all.
She picks up even more speed, sucking with renowned vigor as I hiss and buckle a little under her touch. I’m gripping her hair in my fist and thrust my hips a little now that I know I’m close. I want to experience the full force of this blow-job.
“Fuck!” I scream again, throwing my head back and closing my eyes. I see one last glance of Caitlin naked, her legs spread for me to fuck her before I shoot my load inside her mouth. “Shit!” I shout, shuddering with my orgasm.
“Wow, that was unexpected.”
The euphoria of my orgasm melts away by the sound of Amy’s voice. I’m a complete fucking asshole. Not only have I used Amy, but I’ve thought about another woman the whole time she had her mouth around my dick.
“Yeah,” I say guiltily, doing up my fly. I have no words because I’m an idiot.
The door opens and light floods in. I screw my eyes trying to adjust to the light when I notice that a man in a janitor’s jumpsuit is standing there staring at us. Amy’s still on her knees and me with my hand to my zipper. Would, “this isn’t what it looks like,” ride with this man? Immediately, I help Amy up and I’m about to apologize to him when he shakes his head.
“You know, if I had a dollar for every time I caught one of you guys in here fooling around, I wouldn’t need a job no more.” He tuts, shaking his head again, before throwing his thumb over the direction of his shoulder. “Let an old man do his job.”
Grabbing Amy’s hand, I pull her out from the broom cupboard. “Sorry,” I offer.
“Ach,” is all he says in response, waving his hand at me. He doesn’t even look behind, just goes into the broom cupboard to collect whatever he needed in there in the first place. I look at Amy and she looks at me. I can see the embarrassment on her cheeks, but I also know she wants to laugh too. I pull her away and as I do the giggles come.
“Shh,” I say, trying to stop her making it worse.
“I’m sorry, that was funny.”
I smile. I suppose it was a little funny. I pass by a friend of mine, Johnny, who I’ve gotten to know in my Criminal Psychology class. Funnily enough, he’s always lived two streets away from me and we never knew it. When I pass, I say hi and he offers a knowing smirk and winks at me.
“See you tomorrow, buddy.”
I wave back. “Yep. See you tomorrow.”
And as I say that I have to wonder. What will tomorrow bring?
It’s the day after the encounter outside the college and I’ve somehow managed to go all day without seeing Jeremy. My classes ran all day today, so I’m sitting at a local café reading the latest Colleen Hoover novel, sipping a milkshake.
“What are you drinking?” I startle from the voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” I gaze up at Jeremy, who’s now taken it upon himself to sit in the seat opposite me without asking first.
“I see your stalking levels have turned up a notch.” Despite seeing how sexy he looks in that white Run-DMC T-shirt he’s wearing, I choose to avert my eyes completely and instead get back to the book I’m reading. I’m reading the words, but in no way are they going in like they were a few seconds ago.
“I can’t help it if I come in here for a shake and find you here doing the same.”
Still avoiding eye contact, I shake my head. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”
“What are you drinking?” he asks again, ignoring my obvious jab at him.
I look at the milkshake that I’ve had two sips of so far. “Banana.”
“Yuck,” he says, making a disgusted sound in his throat.
That’s when I choose to look up and I wish I hadn’t. His eyes are a cool, ice blue. They hold mischief and mayhem in their wake. For a moment I allow myself the brief wonderment of how good it would be to delve into that mischief and mayhem.
Just the once.
I clear my throat. “What’s wrong with banana milkshake?”
“What isn’t wrong with banana milkshake? It’s even worse than vanilla.”
“Nothing is worse than vanilla.”
“It is... when it’s banana.”
“Have you chosen to come in here just to debate with me about what milkshake is worse than others?”
He smirks at me then. A real I’m sexy and I know it smirk. I wish he would leave me alone. He’s a distraction I don’t need right now. A very handsome distraction, with icy blue eyes, tattoos, and a body I could easily get lost in.
“No. I came in h
ere to order a milkshake when I found you sitting here on your own. Where’s Stacey?”
Just at that moment the waitress comes along and asks Jeremy what he’d like. I’m thinking he’ll go with chocolate milkshake because let’s face it—who doesn’t like chocolate? But I find myself surprised when he orders strawberry instead.
He notices my reaction and narrows his eyes at me. “Not a fan of strawberry?”
I shake my head on a smile. “No, it’s not that. I had just convinced myself that you were a chocolate man.”
Clasping his hands together, Jeremy leans forward on the table. “You know what assuming does, don’t you?”
I roll my eyes. “How cliché.”
“It’s true, though.” He sighs before saying, “So, where’s Stacey?”
“She’s at home studying. I should be doing some homework myself, but decided to come here to clear my head a bit by reading a book.”
“Whatcha reading?”
Knowing he’s not going to leave me alone now, I place my Kindle down on the table. “Nothing. Just a romance book.”
“You like romance, huh?”
“Who doesn’t like romance?”
I lock my eyes with his, smiling, but pretty soon my smile fades when I see the heat pooling from him. His bright blue eyes have turned dark—hooded even. My loins wake immediately and I think he must sense this as I spot the smirk rising on his face.
“You look beautiful today.”
Surprised by this sudden announcement, I say thanks. He looks beautiful too, but I don’t offer that piece of information back to him. His head will only get bigger than it already is.
I look down at his T-shirt again and it’s then something hits me. “You like your old ’90s hip hop, don’t you?”
Jeremy shrugs, leaning back so I can get the full force of his broad chest through that very T-shirt. His arms are covered in tattoos. I hate to admit it, but it looks sexy on him.
“What can I say? I’m a ’90s baby at heart. Some of the best music was made in the ’80s and ’90s.”
I shrug, trying to appear indifferent. I love the ’80s and ’90s music too, but I’m not about to tell him this. “I’m more of a country girl myself.” It’s partly true. I certainly have a thing for Chris Stapleton and Garth Brooks.
“I would have never said that about you.”
Those dark eyes have lit back up. They’re looking playful—which again doesn’t help. He does things to my girly parts that I never even knew existed.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Jeremy.”
I gauge his expression and instantly regret the words that have come out of my mouth. For some reason he looks kind of... sad.
As my mind scrambles for something to say next, we’re interrupted by the waitress delivering Jeremy’s strawberry milkshake. He thanks her and I notice the way her eyes light up when he does. They linger on him even after she has walked away from the table.
“Now, this is what I call a milkshake,” he adds, popping his straw into his shake. He’s completely oblivious to the female attention he’s receiving. A smile lifts up before I can even stop it. “What are you smiling at?”
Shit, I’ve been busted. I can’t tell him that I’m secretly ecstatic that another girl likes him, and his focus was solely on me. If I give away the fact Jeremy makes my body react in the way that he does, then he will end up relentless. My sole mission to come back to my old hometown was a fresh start—boy free. I can’t go back there again. My studies come first.
“Nothing really. Just thinking that maybe the reason I like banana so much is because everyone normally goes for strawberry or chocolate. Maybe... just maybe I don’t want to be like everyone else. Have you considered that you’re just being a sheeple?”
He bursts out a hearty laugh, making my thighs clench together. Even his laugh makes me want to jump his bones.
“A sheeple? That’s a first.” He leans over the table, his eyes narrowing as he does. His voice low, he says, “I don’t follow anyone, sweetheart.” Despite the heat now throbbing between my legs, I roll my eyes. “You asked.”
“And now I regret it.”
“How’s your parents?” he asks, a bit out of the left field. I watch as his tongue darts out, his mouth wrapping around the straw as he starts to suck. Heat floods my cheeks. I never realized that watching a man suck on a straw would turn me on so much.
I wriggle, a little uncomfortable as I swap one leg over the other and clear my throat. “I spoke with them yesterday. They seem fine.”
“Did they ask about me?” One eyebrow shoots up as his mouth still hovers over the straw.
“How can you ask a question totally unrelated to you and yet twist it around so that it is?”
He glances away, looking nonplussed by my question. “It’s a gift, I guess.”
Annoyingly, the answer to his question is yes. They actually ask about Jeremy every single time I call.
“Have you seen him yet?”
“What does he look like?”
“His dad’s very tall. Is he tall?”
“I bet he’s as handsome as he was all those years ago.”
And that’s just my dad!
“They may have mentioned you once or twice.”
By the look of the smirk on his face he knows it’s definitely more than twice.
“They’re real nice, your folks. I miss them. They always used to trust me around you and it made me want to protect you even more. What was it I used to say?”
“I’ll protect you from the world, Caitlin.”
I shrug. “I can’t remember.”
“Aww, shit. It’s on the tip of my tongue. Are you sure you don’t remember?”
I do remember. Partly because it pains me every time I think about it. He did protect me when I was younger, but nothing he could have ever done would have protected me from Jack. It’s not Jeremy’s fault, I know. But I still get overwhelming pressure in my chest whenever I think that the boy who said would protect me from the world... never protected me from him.
“I’ll protect you from the...” His eyes narrow, trying to think more deeply about what the word was. I’m about to finally put him out of his misery when he says, “world. I’ll protect you from the world. That was it.” His eyes glass over like he’s remembering something dreamy. “Yeah, your parents loved me.”
“Jeez, conceited much.”
Jeremy’s focus lands on me, his eyes again dancing with mischief. “Sexy much.” He then straightens himself, rounding his shoulders. “So, Caitlin. Tell me. When are we going to get sexy together?”
The gall of this boy. How can he compliment me in one breath and then completely ruin it in another?
“How about never?” And I mean that. I can’t let this boy take over my life like I let the last one.
“You and I know it’s inevitable. Why prolong it any further?”
I fix my eyes on his. I need to convey this message loud and clear. “You have a girlfriend.”
“No, I don’t.”
Leaning forward, I clasp my hands together. “So, who is Amy to you then? Just a friend you like to hang out with from time to time?”
“You could say that.”
I lean back into the seat on a sigh.
“Are you jealous?”
His question snaps my head back to look at him. “No,” I bite back indignantly. “I just don’t make it a habit to be another notch on someone’s bedpost.”
His gaze shifts from my face down to my body and back up again. I really wish he wouldn’t look at me like that. “Ah, Caitlin. You could never be another notch on my bedpost. I’m figuring one taste of you and I will never let you go.”
I swallow. Hard. His eyes, which were a cool light blue, have turned dark again. In my head I can see it. The feel of his hands on my breasts, his tongue darting out onto my skin.
I need to cut this shit out.
I try focusing on something else and the only thing that stands out is h
is ink. “You don’t like color?” I ask, pointing to his tats. He laughs loudly. “What?”
“What a way to change the subject, Caits.”
“It’s Caitlin.”
He smirks at my annoyance before glancing down on his arm. “Color eventually fades, that’s why I always choose black.”
“Who do you go to?”
“Why, you want another one?”
I must admit, I had thought about getting another. I have several scars running down the side of my waist and back from when Jack used to whip me with his belt. I needed bed rest for several days, and also a forever reminder of what he did. I wanted to cover that reminder with a tattoo. Something that means I will never let myself be a victim again.
“I’ve thought about it.”
“Would it shock you to hear that I did some of these myself?” He points to his left arm, an image of a snake coiling itself around a skull. The detail is unmistakable with the fine ridges of the skull’s cheekbones and the prominent scales on the snake. There’s something quite beautiful, but terrifying about the image. Below that on his hand is a lotus flower. I had chosen to ignore it before, but now it’s staring me in the face. I can’t un-see it.
“You were always drawing when we hung out, so it’s no surprise to me. It must’ve been difficult, though. Inking yourself like that.”
He shrugs like it means nothing. “If I can reach it, I’ll draw it. That’s my motto. I can do you, if you want?” That one cheeky eyebrow is up like that last sentence means a lot more than just giving me a tattoo.
In all honesty, I wouldn’t mind my old friend tattooing me, but for him to do the one I want on the scars I have will make him ask questions. Questions I’m not willing to answer.
Just as I’m about to answer maybe another time, his phone starts to ring. “Sorry, but I got to take this.”
I nod, thinking he’s going to get up and speak to whoever’s on the line in private, but to my shock he answers in front of me.
“Where are you?” A slight pause. “Okay, I’ll come and get you.”
He ends the call, tucking his phone back into his jeans pocket. “That was my sister. She needs me to come pick her up.”
Scozzari: Deviant #3 Page 6
