Finding Fate

by Charisse Spiers

  “That’s okay. You already had this planned. I’ll find something to do and then we’ll get dinner tonight. Have fun.” Footsteps sound, getting closer with each one. I step back slowly, trying to be quiet. They stop again. “Oh, Presley . . . I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but congratulations on the baby. You’ve had a thing for K forever. I’m happy for you guys.”

  My shoulders drop as I slowly inch away from the door, taking off in a sprint once I’m out of earshot. I swear I wonder if the Paxtyn I hung out with Friday night and the one Presley describes is the same person. Yeah, there’s the bitchiness around other people, and at first glance she seems awfully spoiled and bratty, but when you get her alone, she’s fun to hang out with and all that other stuff goes away. It reminds me of how I was with Maddox gone—acting out for an underlying reason.

  I’ll hang out with her. What a shitty vacation to come all the way to Miami and sit in the house. I’m still exploring this big city myself, and me and Maddox were going to go to town anyway. I think he wanted to get some wings and beer and watch football on the big screen. I’ll see if he minds letting her come with us. He won’t—I hope.

  Thirty-Two

  Paxtyn

  I run down the basement stairs to change into something cute, trying not to cry. I will not cry in front of people. I never have and I never will. Being a bitch gives me an upper hand. People don’t think they can hurt you when you’re mean. When you act like you don’t care you’re invincible. If you act spoiled they think you’re shallow. Maybe coming here without my parents was a mistake. I knew she had another life now. I expected her to have friends. I didn’t expect for her to continuously blow me off, though, when I put forth so much effort to come see her. I put myself out there.

  When Mom told me she was pregnant again I knew I needed to try harder. I want to be close to my siblings. I want to be close to my nieces and nephews. My brother Preston makes an effort to hang out with me more than my own sister does, and he’s a guy who’s happily whoring around right now because of the whole Kinzleigh situation. He doesn’t even hide it. The ‘fantastic four’ isn’t so fantastic anymore. It seems a little bit like Karma to me for always leaving me out. Presley doesn’t think I know about the abortion, but what she also doesn’t know is that Mom and me have gotten closer since her and Preston aren’t around. It’s not perfect but it’s nice.

  Mom told me everything. She said there was no point in keeping it a secret anymore. The Bakers knew about it, Dad knew about it, and it clearly wasn’t going to go away. She gave me her reasoning and took it as an opportunity to school me some more on safe sex. I wanted so badly to throw in her face that I’m the one that held onto my virginity the longest, but that’s not a very mature thing to do, so I listened and gave my opinion, which is that I understood in terms of being a parent, but Presley has also never hid her feelings for Konnor. She was pretty damn obvious about it over the years. Even I picked up on it. Given the person it involved, she should have just let it go. Had it been anyone else, it would have likely been the right call.

  I want us to have a relationship. I want to be friends with my sister. I didn’t think it’d be this hard so late in the game. Oh well. Better luck next time. At least she’s letting me take her car and riding with Sayler so I’m not stuck in the house. No one comes to a place like Miami and stays inside. I can’t totally blame her, though. I’m sure she’d rather hang out with another pregnant girl than a non-pregnant one. That whole mutual likes and all.

  “Hey.” I ignore the hot guy standing to my left by the stage with a guitar strapped to his chest as I walk right past him like I didn’t even notice he was there, even though I heard the music long before I got to the bottom of the staircase and heard his voice as he called out to me. He’s impossible to actually ignore. I knew from the second he opened that damn door Friday that I was going to have to be a mega bitch to not be obvious that I think he’s hot. Jeez. I don’t know how much that actually worked since I gave him my virginity within hours.

  Out of all the guys at school that have taken me out to try to get in my pants or found me lingering around at parties and became my company for the evening, it never crossed my mind to actually sleep with any of them. Make out sessions, sure. A little innocent over the clothes groping here and there while kissing, yes. When you are walking around with size D perky boobs and a small waist guys are going to want to touch them. Sometimes it’s fun to have the power to tell them yes or no.

  “Paxtyn,” he calls out as I walk into the bedroom space, headed for my suitcase, trying to ignore that southern accent that does things to areas south of my waistline. It’s such a foreign sound of slow, deep words I’ve never experienced, and I can’t figure out why in God’s name I like it, but one thing I will admit—to myself—is that I may understand what drew Kinzleigh to Breyson in the beginning. That slow talking of words with drawn out syllables tends to wrap around a girl and hold her brain hostage. California people don’t talk anything like him. I like to think we don’t have an accent at all.

  As I dig through the contents looking for what I want to wear for the day, I’m jerked up by the arm. I blink long and hard to make sure my eyes don’t give off a glossy sheen, just in time for him to turn me around. “What?” I bite out, looking into his gray eyes. He’s so hot. Damn. “Can you not take a hint?”

  Instead of getting angry, he smirks. What is wrong with this picture? He leads me toward the wall, already pulling my homecoming tee shirt up my body to remove it. When I’m pinned to it, he shoves my sleep shorts down my legs. “Did you wake up with a little extra bitchiness today?”

  I keep my hands to myself, intrigued. “What do you want?”

  He jerks his shirt off and unbuttons his jeans, shoving them down low. “I think it’s pretty obvious.”

  I smother my smile. Ugh, he gets to me. “Who said my legs are open? You think you can just shove that big dick in me anytime you want to?”

  He grabs my ass and lifts me up, pressing me against the wall. As I wrap my arms and legs around him for support, he positions himself just right and thrusts inside, drawing my eyes closed from how good it feels. Had I really known sex would feel like this after the initial break-in period, someone could’ve possibly persuaded me, but then again, maybe it’s just this scenario. I’m a blank canvas with him. He knows nothing about the girl I am back in California. “Hell yeah. You started this shit. I’m going to get my fill.” The way his words are choppy like he’s breathing deep between each one just makes it hotter.

  “Yes,” I whisper, taking every thrust and wanting more. Every touch, every thrust, and every turn-on are like nothing I’ve ever experienced. For a half hour at a time, some of the times less and some more, it’s like I’m someone’s central focus. I don’t have to fight for attention. I don’t have to beg. I don’t have to be the shadow behind someone else. I’m not invisible. He wants me for me, and even if it’s just sexually, I feel like I’m more myself in the heated moments with him than I have in years.

  He leans in and pushes my hair out of the way, before running his lips up the side of my neck, and then replaces his hand to the backside of my thigh, shoving it back toward the wall to spread me wider. With every penetration a panty breath gets knocked out of me. I lean my head to the side, giving him more space, and when I open my eyes they lock with Gabby’s, who is standing in front of Maddox in the open space that leads into the bedroom area, both of them with a certain smile present. My mouth falls open, a moan fighting to slip, and before any words come out, Maddox places his index finger over his mouth, making me smile, and then he places his hands on Gabby’s shoulders to pull her away. Come find me after, she mouths.

  I nod on reflex, making Landon pull back. He turns to look back just before Maddox and Gabby completely move. I grab his chin and jerk it back, grazing his lips with mine. “Don’t stop until you make me come.”

  He moves a few feet to the side and deposits me on the top of the small desk to free u
p his hands, allowing him to go faster now that he’s not holding my weight. One thigh shoved back, he rubs up and down between my lips on my sensitive spot with his thumb. “Shit. Like that,” I tell him, pulling him in to kiss me. The second our lips touch it becomes explosive; so much heat blazing between us I come quickly, my lips moving much needier as groans and moans and pants rotate, pushing through me into him.

  Seconds after the orgasmic feeling crashes, he grips my breast in one hand, kneading it and pinching my nipple, while still holding one thigh in the other, and with every buck of his pelvis against my middle, it gets slower, until finally, he stops, his lips as rough as he tugs and rubs on mine as mine were on his during my orgasm.

  He releases my thigh, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist, both of his hands running through the length of my Ombré hair and down my back as he kisses me some more, taking me by surprise. Usually when it cuts off, it does just that—ends abruptly. There is no lovey dovey sweet stuff. We aren’t a couple. Neither of us have pretended this is anything it’s not. We don’t really hang out when we’re together with the group. We basically ignore each other or we are a smartass to one another just like when we first met. He stays to himself or is with the guys. I stay with the girls. It’s minimal interaction aside from sex when we’re alone. The closest that we’ve come to any sort of cuddling was the night he pulled me close in the bed after he forwent the condom.

  We sleep in the same bed at night, but when I wake up in the morning if he’s even still in bed I find him on the air mattress, which is likely because it’s obvious we have zero privacy down here. Two different times someone has walked up on us having sex. Guess it’s a good thing I’m not modest.

  He finally pulls away from my lips, but doesn’t pull out of me yet, and his hands continue to feel all over my body like he’s memorizing my frame. “I’m going to fuck myself with sex if I don’t stop.”

  I run my hands along his narrow waist to his muscular back, pulling him closer. “Then transition back to condoms ‘til I leave tomorrow. I don’t give a shit.”

  His tongue folds over his bottom lip just before his top teeth scrape against it, like he’s holding back a smile. The smile is in his eyes, though, making him that much sexier. “Fuck no. You better be on birth control, though.”

  Bitch mode initiated . . .

  “I like my life and body too much to be a teen mom. I’m not my sister,” I snap, shoving him back, offended by his comment. No one made him shove his unsheathed dick in me or forced him to come in me just now. The blame is always on the girl when risks are taken, regardless of what the situation is. Some of us are smarter than others. She may have fucked up her birth control her senior year, but once again, I’m not her. I chose methods with less human error. “As much as I like this hot sex we’re having, I don’t like it enough to pop out your kid and be stuck with it alone.”

  He picks me up off the desk and roughly moves me to the bed, coming down over me, shoving my legs back. I try to close my legs, shoving at his shoulders, but he just pushes harder. “You think I’m that big of a prick, bitch? Knock you up and leave you high and dry? It takes a special brand of asshole to stoop that low.”

  “Aren’t you all at one point or another?” I bite back. “Both of us know what this is. I know how to have fun too, but don’t come at me like it’s possible I’m a lying little slut that will trap a guy when I never asked you to do it. I take care of me. I’m my number one priority. I guarantee my life is a lot more glamorous than yours, country. I have much more to lose over an accidental pregnancy than someone like you.”

  He shoves my knees back into the bed, gripping the back of my legs tight above the backs of my knees, bringing my bottom straight into the air as my spine rounds at the end, and then he makes sure his jeans are low enough before he shoves his long dick inside me, sending me crawling up the bed. “Shit! That hurts.”

  I don’t know if I like this angle, but regardless of how much I squirm, he makes me take it. It’s giving me cramps. “Your life is more glamorous? Why is that? You think because you come from money you’re better than me? All of you fuck the same, girl.”

  I slap him. He smiles, thrusting harder, sending me north again from the pain of him hitting so damn deep, only my body doesn’t actually go anywhere. What the hell is he aiming for? “Not it? Is it because I’m older, or have a damn good job? You think I’m a loose cannon with my cum? I’m careful. I don’t want kids. No bitch is going to strap me down that long or use me for a free ride through child support. It was a reminder. Not a threat. I don’t do that whole read between the lines shit.”

  “Get off me, asshole.”

  When he’s deep, all his weight on me, he grinds his pelvis between my legs, causing embarrassing sounds to come flying out of my mouth. It feels so damn good. I fucking hate him. “No. I like coming in this fresh, tight, young cunt of yours. Maybe I like fucking a pussy that isn’t wore out. It’s your fault. You gave it to me.”

  My back arches, an orgasm building. Ah, shit. Regardless of how much I like what he’s doing to me, despite his damn mouth, I’m not stroking his ego. “Fuck you.”

  “What’s that? You like my big dick too? None of those high school boys can fuck like this, can they? Is that why you held out? For something better?” I’d punch him if I wasn’t getting an . . .

  My toes curl and my hands clench in fists around the comforter as I try to keep from making any noises that would compliment his skill. “That’s right, baby. Come on my cock. Keep proving how much redneck country boys do it better. Even pissing you off I can still keep that pussy throbbing.”

  God, what breed of male is he? Cocky ass. Sad part is he deserves the title. I grip the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. “Would you shut the fuck up and come.”

  Our mouths come together, tongues brushing and rubbing, and with every hard pump into me my breasts jiggle. He exerts more of his weight on me, slowing his pace, until he finally ceases all movement except what our mouths are doing. He releases my legs, letting me relax, and suddenly we’re tangled around each other. “You should be good and limp now. What’s eating at you?”

  And the moment is ruined. “Nothing. I need a shower. Can you get off me?”

  “When you quit lying.”

  “Who says I’m lying? I’m fine, and even if I wasn’t, it’s none of your business.”

  He stands on his knees and shoves me across the bed until my neck is on the edge, my head hanging off and hair dangling. Without saying a word, he goes down on me, nearly bringing me off the bed as he sucks me into his mouth. I buck my hips, trying to get him off, but he continuously proves he’s stronger than me. He has to stop. I can’t take any more this soon, but he licks and sucks at me with purpose, drawing my body into a possessed position one would only find entertaining in acrobatics, cuss words flying out one after the other as I come again, my body lightly coated in a glossy layer of sweat.

  As everything relaxes, drawing my eyes closed quickly, just wanting a nap, he comes over me and grabs my chin. “I lost my virginity when I was fifteen. A lot of girls and a lot of time has impacted me. I can go all day. You can keep lying and we can keep going or you can spill. I’m going to wear you down one way or another.”

  Dick. “Are your whoring ways supposed to make you more attractive? Because it doesn’t. Hearing about you sticking it in a slew of girls makes me question my decision to let you fuck me without a condom.”

  He rubs his hand up my thigh, his lips tipped to create one hell of a sexy smirk. “No it doesn’t, because we both know virgin boys suck at sex. They take your clothes off, get it in, and then by the time you start feeling good, they come. Five minutes, maybe. That’s no fun. You know good and damn well you’d rather fuck someone with experience that can play your body like an instrument.” He’s groping my boob and pinching on my nipple to harden the center, giving an example, his lips still so close to mine. “Doesn’t this feel so much better?”

  I roll
my eyes to avoid giving away that it actually does feel quite amazing. He doesn’t need to know. “Fine. Maybe. Now, would you get off me? I really need to shower your cum off of me, and you may not look all that big since you’re lean, but your solid muscle is heavy as hell. It’s getting harder to breathe.”

  “I told you I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s got you pissy.”

  “Nowhere was it discussed in a pre-sex contract that we would have heart-to-hearts, country. Let it go. You don’t tell me shit. We aren’t those kinds of people. I’m entitled to my privacy.”

  He pulls out and rolls off of me, pulling me on top of him. I love the way his waist is narrow, and his torso lean with shredded muscle, but then it widens at his ribcage to show off the larger top half. “Ask me one question and I’ll answer it, then you’re going to answer mine.”

  “And if I don’t want to play?”

  He places a hand on each butt cheek and squeezes. “What’s it going to hurt? You’re going home tomorrow and I leave for work in a couple of days. Have something better to do?”

  I sigh. He does have a point. Ugh. And he’s talking, so . . . But what would I even want to know about him? Anything? I feel like I should make it count whatever it is. I don’t want to know shit that makes me look like I’m expecting this to become a relationship. It doesn’t need to be anything about girls. And since he wants to know what’s bothering me . . . “Do you have any siblings?”

  “A sister, yeah.”

  “Are you two close?”