His laugh is low, causing it to hum through my body. I’m tense like I need a release, and the only person I want to relieve me right now is standing behind me, one hand resting on my waist while the other lightly touches my shoulder. When he dips his thumb slightly inside my leggings, slowly tracing a tiny line at the side of my waist, I almost come undone.
The hand that’s on my shoulder slides down and across my upper chest. My breasts heave because they want his touch on them instead.
Just a little lower.
My heart quickens further, causing labored breath to leave my lips. But then quickly his arm rests on my shoulder, his hand leaving my chest and clenching into a fist. “Can you remember what I told you?”
The little shit’s got me all worked up so he thinks I can’t remember what he taught me. “Jesus, Scozzari.”
“Oh, it must be serious. You called me Scozzari.” He laughs and my once aroused state is quickly replaced with irritation.
He’s still laughing when I yank his arm, twist it, before elbowing him slightly in the stomach. An oof sound leaves his lips and when I turn he’s bent over, clutching on his stomach.
“Who’s laughing now?” I ask, a triumphant smile spread across my lips.
He shakes his head before looking up at me with a smile. “I suppose I deserved that.”
And then he lunges for me, making me squeal. Without a moment’s thought he has both arms wrapped around my front, pinning my own arms by my side. I can’t move, I start to struggle, but for some reason, I don’t feel trapped.
I feel impassioned.
“How are you going to get out of this one, baby?”
My belly heats at his words. They’re just words, but they have this ability to render me completely and utterly immobile. However, I can’t let him beat me. I bend over, balling my fist, and hit him in the side of his leg until he lets go. He grabs me again; this time he’s like an octopus. This isn’t self-defense anymore. It’s turned into a game. I bend again, but this time it’s so hard, that we both lose our footing, landing on the floor. He still has his arms around me, but I manage to elbow him again. He lets go, allowing me space to move. Straddling his waist, I pin his arms to the floor and cock one eyebrow.
“How does it feel to be overpowered by a girl, Scozzari?”
He thrusts his hips forward into my groin. I immediately detect how hard he is. “Is that a good enough answer, Summers?”
Desire pools between my legs and I momentarily lose momentum. It’s only slight, but enough time for him to suddenly hoist me over until I’m now the one on my back and he’s pinning my arms to the ground.
“If we weren’t in this room all your clothes would be off by now.”
“You’re so cocksure, aren’t you?”
One half of his lips curves up into a smirk. “I’m pretty sure my cock wants you, if that’s what you mean.” I thrust my hips forward just like he did to me. Jeremy’s eyes close on a moan. “Fuck me, Caitlin, you’re driving me insane.”
Not as much as you are me.
“Are you going to get off me now?”
Jeremy opens his eyes and bends forward a little. He glances down at my lips and I lick them in anticipation. “On a scale of one to ten, just how wet are you for me?”
Playing along with the game, I scrunch my lips up on a frown, making sure he knows I’m deep in thought. “Hmmm, I’d say a zero.”
“Liar,” he growls, pushing his hardness into me. Who am I kidding? On a scale of one to horny, I’m at nuclear.
He bends down lower and this time I’m the one to look down at his lips. When I lift them up to his eyes again, I’m completely lost. Those piercing blues are practically scorching my skin. He’s like fire and ice and everything in between. It makes my soul dance, my heart sing, and my body combust.
For a moment, we don’t speak. All I can hear are our breaths coming in and out with such fire and fury it’s making my ears prick with excitement. It’s then he gives into the desire, pressing his soft, warm lips against my own. I’m lying on the ground pinned by this man, but I want more. I need more.
“Caitlin,” he whispers, pulling away before claiming my mouth again. Those lips. Those sultry, delectable, decadent soft lips are declaring ownership of mine. Taking, needing, bending me to his will. I’m lost, so lost that I forget all my surroundings.
“Is this extra in the class, because I definitely want to order me some of this,” a lady’s voice booms around the room, reminding us we’re in a gym filled with people. Giggles erupt and Jeremy pulls away, quickly getting off me.
“Err, sorry,” he says all nervously and for a moment I forget how embarrassed I am. Is he just as embarrassed too?
He’s up on both his legs in no time, bending over so he can offer me his hand. I take it and he positions me in front of him. He’s not trying to get me to take the fall. He’s using me to hide his arousal.
When my eyes adjust to the room around me, I find six women all staring at us with highly amused faces.
“Are you here for the class?”
Jeremy squeezes my shoulder a little. “No, we were just leaving.”
I feel him turn and so do I. He picks my things up, handing them to me, before grabbing his own stuff. He has a fleece too, but doesn’t put it on. Instead, he uses it as a shield to hide his erection. I don’t know why, but I giggle. He looks at me and gives a small amused sigh, before grabbing my hand. “Let’s go,” he says, pulling me toward the door. “Have a nice class, ladies.”
All together, they happily chirp “bye” back, causing me to laugh even harder.
When we’re outside and away from their view, Jeremy tugs at my arm and turns me until my back is placed up against the wall.
“That was close,” he starts, his nose flicking my own.
“I sincerely hope not, Scozzari,” I tease. “I would hope you’d last a little longer than that.”
He frowns at first, but it soon turns into a smirk. “Do you want to test that theory?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I flirt back.
He looks down at my lips again, causing butterflies to flutter. “Will you come with me?”
“Where?”
“I don’t want to tell you until we get there. Do you trust me?”
That question. I doubt I would have been able to answer that two weeks ago, but I know it now. “Yes.”
“Will you come with me?”
“I brought my car here,” I answer, not knowing if this would be an issue.
“That’s fine. I’ll follow you back to your place and then you can get in my car. We’d have to go near to where you live anyway to get to it. Will you come? I promise I’ll have you home by dinnertime.” He smirks at that.
“Okay.”
Grabbing my hand again, he laces his fingers between mine. I should be scared by how quickly my feelings are growing for this boy, but for some reason, all I can think of while his hand is clasped in mine is...
How long can I make this feeling last?
“You took me to a pig farm?”
A silly grin manifests. This is everyone’s reaction whenever I tell them. “Not just any pig farm. The Scozzari pig farm.”
Her expression looks incredulous as she glances around the expanse of the pig paddock. “There’s thirty pigs here. When my dad first bought the land, it only came with five pigs. But, with a lot of TLC and food, they’ve flourished.”
“Your dad has a pig farm?” she asks again, her mouth parting slightly.
I point to a piglet with the most twisted, cute little tail. “That one there is mine. I call him Hannibal.”
Her head snaps to mine. “As in Hannibal Lecter?”
Coming up closer to her, I lean my arms on the fence, a small smile coating my lips. “Yep. Hannibal the cannibal. You know they can eat us until there’s no trace left? Not even bone.”
I watch in amusement as her eyes dart about a bit, deep in thought. “Your dad didn’t buy them for that, did he?”<
br />
I can’t help the laughter that bursts out of me. I know she, amongst others, heard the rumors about my dad, how when he lived in London, he was a gangster with an endless amount of drugs, guns, and women. I had been sheltered from that life, but I’m not stupid. I knew what went down. I think my dad’s ashamed now of the life he used to live, so he gives off another persona to him that he hopes others will buy.
His son, however, doesn’t buy it.
“No, of course not,” I lie. “He just loves pigs.”
And he does love pigs...
Because they’re a great waste disposal.
Her face suddenly becomes animated. “How long have they been here?”
“He got to know the land owner years ago, but only managed to acquire the land around five years ago.”
“So, after I had left?” she asks, her eyes still locked on all the pigs munching on all the scraps they’ve been given from breakfast.
“I think my dad was in the process of buying the land with the pigs when it was announced that you were leaving. He hires someone nearby to look after them whenever he can’t.”
Caitlin stares across the paddock for a moment, a sense of peace radiating from her. She places both arms on the fence before leaning her chin on her hands. In that moment, she’s the most serene I’ve seen her. A part of me knew bringing her here would not only make her happy, it would also make her feel safe. There’s nothing quite like watching pigs scrap for food, their little pot-bellied bodies skittering across the paddock as they race to see who’s boss.
“Hierarchy is normally established earlier on with pigs,” I start, “thus leaving a more placid litter to attend to. It makes watching them running around and snorting most entertaining.”
“I think they’re cure,” she observes, smiling at one who sniffs at another’s butt before snorting in what seems like disgust.
She sighs before straightening herself. “I never wanted to leave you.”
Silently, I celebrate the face she’s finally opening up. This is the Caitlin I knew would be in there somewhere. I deliberately don’t say anything, because I want her to continue.
“I begged and pleaded with my parents to let me stay. I even suggested that they ask your mom and dad if I could live with you.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “Oh, what trouble we would have gotten into.”
Her face lights up in a mischievous smile. “Why do you think they never went with the idea?”
We both laugh, but soon the only sounds we hear are of the pigs eating the last scraps. I watch as she takes one last look before walking out of the paddock. I follow behind her and when we’re outside, I continue following her lead, only setting the pace she wants to. We can roam pretty far on this land as my father owns ten acres. I sometimes come here when I need space, or time out to think. I knew bringing Caitlin here would do the same for her.
There’s a small walkway along the field and without asking, Caitlin starts the journey completely in the opposite direction of my car. She’s obviously in no hurry to leave and for me that’s a good thing. At least she’s comfortable staying with me.
I watch as she walks, taking in a gulp of fresh air as she closes her eyes. “It’s so peaceful here.”
I smile, now convinced I did the right thing. “I did hope you’d think so.”
She returns the smile before looking out across the green fields as we walk. It’s a little chilly today, but at least the sun is out. Caitlin seems to love this weather. She’s turned toward the sun, a soft smile spread across her face. I could live in that smile. I could live in it forever.
“Sometimes life gets ahead of you,” she begins. “College life, friends, homework, work, bills, family. Sometimes it’s nice to take a break from it all, you know? Take stock of your life, if you’re happy, or unhappy. If you’re choosing the right path, or not. So many important life decisions that one can make that so many people think they know the answer to. When really they’re only kidding themselves. It’s moments like these that make you think. Like, truly think.”
Truly think. I like that.
I’m about to ask her if she speaks from experience when she says, “Leaving here was the worst thing that ever happened to me.”
At first, I’m stumped for an answer. Does she blame her parents for that decision? They couldn’t have known what it would inevitably lead to.
“I don’t blame my mom and dad.”
I close my eyes, feeling relieved.
“I made my own choices. Adult choices in a child’s body. I had no right to make those decisions, but I did them anyway.” She stops walking for a moment and sucks in a breath. “I’m the worst daughter in the world.”
Fucking hell, this is torture. How can she really feel that way?
“Jesus, Caitlin. You really think that?”
Her eyes dart around the field, a mixture of sadness and defiance on her face. “It’s what I should feel after what I did.” She locks her eyes with mine and narrows them slightly. “And I guess you already know because you went and flew four states—”
“Five,” I correct, not taking her bullshit.
“Five,” she repeats, waving her hand around theatrically, “states over and asked questions about me that you have no business asking.”
I make a big deal, sighing in her direction. “Do you not realize by now that you are my business?”
“Who says?” she asks, jutting out her chin.
“The universe.”
I say it so matter-of-factly that it makes her laugh. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Then don’t, baby.”
She closes her eyes, sucks in a deep gulp of air, and carries on walking. I follow on right beside her, again setting a pace only she wants to set.
“Then why does it feel like I am?” she asks sadly, making my heart break.
“Do you really feel that’s the way it is between us?”
She lets out a frustrated breath, her eyes focused on the field ahead. “If I had met you two weeks ago and we had no history, then things would be fine, right?” She looks at me for affirmation, but doesn’t wait for it to come. “But, because there is, it makes things... complicated.”
“I’m not making it complicated,” I answer back, wondering where she’s going with this.
“We grew up together, Jeremy. The things we did back then, define us now. You knew me from the moment I started growing boobs and got my first period. You knew me when I got a D on my maths test and cried so hard I thought the world was ending.”
I smile, remembering that day. I told her I got a D minus, so who was she to complain. That had made her laugh so hard, I knew from that moment on I wanted to make Caitlin Summers laugh forever.
“You were there all those times,” she continues, interrupting my thoughts. “You know all about my falls, my tantrums, my embarrassments, my highs and lows...”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m trying to say we have history. We may have had a five-year break, but the bare essentials are still there.” She closes her eyes, rubbing her temple with her right hand. “Shit, I’m not making any sense. Just... forget I said anything.”
She’s making perfect sense. It just goes back to what Calvin had said. It was like she never left.
“Are you going to tell me why you went into criminal psychology?”
I’m a little taken aback by her question, but I’m guessing she wants to move onto something a little less closer to home. I won’t press her. If and when she wants to talk about Jack, I’ll be there...
And I keep promising myself I won’t get too murderous in the process.
For her.
“I’m fascinated by the minds of serial killers.”
She nods like she understands, but not that she agrees. “I watched an old film a while back about Ted Bundy. I can’t remember much about it now as I think I wanted to blank most of it out. I just know that every time I do think about the film it give
s me chills.”
“He was one of the most prolific serial killers...”
“Didn’t he pretend to have broken arms and shit like that?” she asks, interrupting me. I don’t mind, though. She wants to talk about it and that’s cool. I flit back to that time I tried to talk to Amy about it and she shut me down. This is refreshing.
“He did. He would also disguise as a police officer, luring women into their cars. He was an absolute psychopath. Still, I think the reason why so many people are fascinated is because he seemed such a nice, normal guy. A regular church-goer, who helped out with causes such as crime prevention. He even wrote a pamphlet on rape prevention.”
I hear her gasp, so stop. “He didn’t?”
I nod. “He did.”
“I know Stacey’s been reading up on that stuff. She watched a film recently called the Zodiac Killer. I wasn’t interested at first, but I was in the room when it was on and so couldn’t help watching some. In the end, I was fascinated. I can kind of guess why she likes studying it so much—even though it’s really morbid.”
I smile, thinking about Stacey. “You know it was her that got me into that stuff?”
She snaps her head to me. “Seriously?”
“Yep. I’m not really into much, except fighting, tattoos, and cars. Anything else is pretty much way down the totem pole for me. Criminal psychology, however, captivated my attention. What makes people killers, and others not? What makes psychopaths like Bundy tick? What is it that goes on in his head that’s different to most? To me, it’s all relevant. I know it’s not the nicest subject to talk about, but someone has to. If you don’t, then you’ll never be able to find future serial killers.”
“It’s true. Someone has to be involved in that taboo subject to make sure it never happens again. I just thought you’d go more into a field of Art, or something like that—considering you always loved to draw.”
I shrug, looking her way, happy when I spot her waiting intently for my answer. “I guess I felt I never needed it, considering I’ve always done it.”
“I reckon it would have been the better subject for you...”
“You think?”
Scozzari: Deviant #3 Page 15
