Reckless
Page 31
“Good, because I sure as hell want to see you get through this sucker. Can you do this?”
I’m all focus. “I can do this, Captain.”
“Then slap on that mask and show us what you’ve got.”
I can hear the rest of the class shouting words of encouragement as I get down onto my knees and then belly. Payton’s voice is loudest of all.
I’ve forgotten how tight this cursed thing is, nothing but black inside.
I concentrate on my breathing like we practiced, slow everything down. I keep the mantra ticking over in my head—You’re free. You’re free.
I’m making good progress until what I hear is the halfway point from outside. My elbows seem to get stuck on something. I’m wriggling but making no forward progress. I struggle, my breathing starting to slip and panic rising.
But I hear Payton in my head. ‘I’m right here. You’re free.’
I readjust in the small space and stop. I meet the fear. I check it out, examine it. It’s not so bad.
I move on, shifting enough to unglue my elbows from the side of the tube and continue.
Before I know it I’m out the end of the tube, standing and pulling off my breathing gear to cheering and cat-calling from the other side of the gymnasium.
The Captain marks me off on his clipboard. “And that, gentlemen,” he announces, “is how it’s damn well done.”
I head to the side.
Payton meets me. “I’m proud of you, pumpkin.”
“Where the hell did you hear that? Have you been talking to my mother?”
He laughs. “She texts you a lot, huh?”
But I’m not mad. How could I be in this moment? Heck, he can call me whatever he wants right now. “I couldn’t have done it without your help,” I tell him.
He smiles. “Don’t worry. I can think of a few ways you can reward me for said help.”
He shifts closer. I check the Captain isn’t looking and press the palm of my hand against his cock. It jumps against it. I push him away. “You’ll have to wait, mister. Duty calls, but as for my ass, the one you seem so enamored with, it’s all yours,” I wink.
And I swear he’s creaming his pants right there on the spot.
*
We skip dinner and go straight to dessert.
I kick the door to his room closed with my foot, lunging for him.
He pulls me into a tight embrace, his kiss full of need and urgency.
He’s moving fast.
I can barely keep up, even as his hand moves down my jeans, curving around the side of my thigh and moving into the hot crevice between my ass cheeks.
Oh.
A single, hard digit prods against the buttonhole of my anus. I moan around his tongue, moving.
Hello.
He’s talked about taking my other virginity before. I find I’m eager, the naughty factor alone causing a firestorm in my panties.
His other hand slips down the front of my pants, fingers taking the arousal from my folds and gently massaging it into my asshole until I’m bucking and thrusting forwards desperate for more.
He takes my earlobe into his mouth, his face lost in the tendrils of my hair, our breath coming out hot, our moans stifled so as not to raise alarm.
Suddenly, he grabs me by the hips and thrusts me violently over his desk, wiping his textbooks off with his hand.
He presses me down with one hand between my shoulder blades until my cheek is pressed flat on the wooden tabletop.
I watch my breath peel out and then evaporate on the surface of the desk as he grabs my panties and jeans together at the waistband. He roughly yanks them down together until there’re bunched around my knees, my rump open under his eyes.
I hear his zipper coming down, his cock being fished out and I get wetter still.
He stands behind me, both hands on my buttocks, spreading them apart until I wince and protest, my ass opening up in invitation.
Truthfully, I don’t know whether I’ll be able to handle something of that size up my backside. I slipped a finger in there when I was fourteen, but this is different.
But he goes for my pussy first, sliding deep from the first stroke.
I gasp, fingers spanning out on the desk as I’m taken hard and fast.
He strokes in and out, his hands on my ass, the slap, slap, slap of our bodies filling the room.
He spanks me, one hand gliding up my spine to rest on my back.
When he withdraws, I protest.
“I’m going to fuck you in the ass now,” he states.
I tense, worried about his size.
“Relax,” he whispers, the pad of his thumb back against my taint.
I moan out and suddenly the slippery head of his cock is there, right against my asshole.
He’s going to do it. He’s going to fuck you in the ass, I think.
I try to relax and enjoy this new sensation.
One hand holding my cheek open, the other grabbing my hair, he spits down into the crack of my ass and begins to slide his cock back and forth to moisten my asshole.
I’m surprised again by how much I’m enjoying this already. It’s so unbelievably dirty, so forbidden.
“You don’t know how good that feels,” he says, his voice heavy with desire.
He dips just the tip of his cock inside, slowly getting me used to the sensation before using both hands to pull my cheeks apart as far as they will go and drive deep into my ass.
I gasp, pleasure spanning away from my core, pinging between my head and genitals in the most delicious way possible.
I’m wedged tight against the edge of the table, breath slammed from my body and half of his cock driven right up into my most private place.
There’s a warm fullness, the sensation both alarming and exquisite as he draws himself back and shifts forward again, the saliva following through with his shaft now and beginning to line the delicate walls of my anal passage.
It’s incredible how different it is to how I thought it would be.
He lets out a stiff groan between gritted teeth, fingers clawing into my fleshy rump, weight lifting over me and more and more of his cock swallowed into my greedy ass.
It’s so dirty, so primal and taboo I come almost immediately, actually crying against the tabletop, flapping and twisting caught in the deepest and most satisfying climax yet. My ass clenches and releases against his furiously pumping cock.
My core tightens, fingers bent. My climax is barreling its way to action, every nerve in my ass, my head, my body urging it on
Payton mutters something before slamming into me with all the force he can muster, filling my ass as we come together once more.
Released, I lift my head from the desk and twist to lock him in a kiss.
I take his tongue eagerly, my body continuing to roil and move with the last flutters of my orgasm.
He breaks the kiss and smiles, a finger sliding into my wetness.
“Was that alpha enough for you?” he asks.
I smile back. “I guess you’re not a bad fuck for a frat boy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
PAYTON
I’m smiling to myself in the shower, the water and suds spiraling down the drain between my legs, my dick happily swinging like a dog’s tail. Lacey’s surprised me once again. She’s far more adventurous than I ever could have hoped.
I thought her pussy was tight, but her ass was even more amazing. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined she’d be down for something like that.
It just keeps getting better.
Better still, my grades are up, Lacey’s getting over her fears, and together we’re going to kick ass out there in the greater world. We’re fucking unstoppable.
I turn off the shower and step out, picking up my towel.
Jackson’s shaving, looking back at me in the mirror. “For a second there I thought I was looking at a three-legged man.”
I’m laughing, wrapping my towel around myself when something collects my shoulder.
/> I spin to find Fielding smirking at me.
“Watch it, Cox,” he says.
No. Fuck this. I grab his shoulder and turn him around.
The others stop what they’re doing.
Ryan throws his hands wide. He’s actually pretty cut for a dumb shit. “What are you going to do, Cox? Seriously? You waiting for your bitch to come save the day, is that it?”
Easy now.
I take a step towards him. “You’re skirting awfully close to an ass-kicking, my friend.”
Someone tries to grab me from behind. “Leave it, Payton,” they say. “It’s not worth it.”
I shrug them off.
Ryan takes a step towards me, smiling there smugly in his towel. He takes a second to eye me off before speaking. “The only thing I’m awfully close to is swiping that bitch right from under your nose. And you know what I’m going to do then?”
“What’s that?” I laugh.
The smile turns full span. “I’m going to bury my cock so far down her throat she’ll be coughing up cum for weeks.”
If he was looking for a reaction, he gets it.
Whatever thread of restraint I had snaps. I launch at his torso in a tackle.
The force is enough to lift him clear off his feet.
I drive him all the way into the tiled wall at the end of the bathroom.
He drops to the floor gasping, but he’s not down.
“Payton!” someone shouts in warning, but I’m too far gone.
I slam my fist into his gut and another into his stupid fucking mouth.
He manages to get a jab into my side, enough to distract me and get to his feet.
I yell and pick him up again, both of us thrown off balance, slipping.
We fall against a vanity, a chunk of porcelain crashing with us to the wet floor.
I’ve got him in a choke-hold, his feet kicking out uselessly on the tiles. We slide and writhe together. “How does that feel, motherfucker?”
The wormy prick manages to slip out and hammer an elbow into my chest, forcing my knees upwards.
The next blow comes right against my jaw, a bloom of pain firing down my shoulder.
I swing back, his nose bloody when he turns back to face me. He staggers to his feet and makes for the door, but I’m far from done.
I take out his legs, shrugging off another classmate who’s trying to pull me free. The water from the busted vanity is leaking out to flood the floor around us.
I manage to get on top of him, straddling him as I start to pummel his face—one fist and then the other.
Strong arms hold me from behind. I cry out in protest. “Let me fucking go!”
Two instructors pull me up, another two dragging Ryan away.
“I’m going to have her,” Ryan laughs, his bloody face maniacal. “I’m going to fuck your whore if it’s the last thing I do.”
I jump forward again, but the instructors have me tight.
I’m taken back to my room. “Dress,” the one on the left orders, throwing me in.
I hear Lacey’s voice past the doorway. “What’s going on?”
They don’t reply.
I sit on the bed and look at my hands, red and raw, the reality of what’s just transpired beginning to sink. It doesn’t matter who started it, who swung first, this is it. I’ve fucked it up. I’ve fucked it all up.
“Hurry up!” shouts one of the instructors. “Dress and get your ass down to the Dean’s office now.”
*
The Dean shakes his head. “What a mess.” He looks up to the Captain. “What do you make of this, Jerry?”
It’s strange hearing the Captain’s first name.
The Captain looks over me with cold eyes. “I think Pemberton Fire Academy is one of the finest training institutions in this here great country. I think Pemberton Fire Academy,” he repeats, “has a zero tolerance policy when it comes to violence, a policy that was made abundantly clear to all recruits when they signed on the dotted line, present company included.”
The Dean fixes on me from behind his desk. “The Captain’s right, Mr. Cox. We absolutely cannot tolerate violence here of any kind. I told Mr. Fielding that just now, and I’m telling you. At Pemberton, you work as a team, or you don’t work at all.”
The hot rage I felt earlier has mellowed into an odd resignation. “What are you saying?”
“Did the Dean say you could talk?” the Captain barks.
The Dean puts his hand up. “It’s okay, Jerry. I’m saying, son, that this is end of your time here at the Academy, both of you. As of this moment, you are expelled from Pemberton.”
Expelled—the word hangs there in my head.
It’s déjà vu, only this office looks different, with a different dean and some fucking ass bandit out there who’s going to get what’s coming to him.
The chair I’m sitting on is still warm. I can picture Ryan sitting here quietly, that smug expression on his face. Maybe he never wanted to be here at all, but I do. I wanted to prove to everyone I wasn’t going to fuck up again, and now the chance has been stripped away like it never was in the first place. I’m back to square one.
I look to the Captain. “Come on, Captain. You know this isn’t right.”
He remains stony-faced. “The Dean’s word is final, Cox. Pack up your things. You are to leave the campus immediately.”
I stand and slam my hand down on the Dean’s desk, my frustration getting the better of me. “This is bullshit!”
The Dean stands, hardening. “You watch your tone there, son. We took a chance on you, and you blew it.”
“But—”
“There are no ‘buts,’ no excuses. We need firefighters with restraint, not frat boys who are going to fly off the handle every time someone gets under their skin. Man up and face the consequences.”
I drag my hand across the Dean’s desk, pull all of its contents down onto the floor.
The Captain starts forward, but the Dean places his hand on his chest. “It’s fine, Jerry. It’s fine.”
“Fuck this place!” I shout, storming out the office.
I don’t look back. I don’t want to see the way they’re looking at me.
Lacey hears me come into my room. She appears in the doorway. “What the hell’s going on?”
I sit on the bed. “I was expelled is what’s going on. Fielding and me, zero tolerance and all that shit.”
“But… they can’t. I’ll go down there right now and tell them what he…”
She stops.
“Tell them what?” I push, sensing her reluctance. “Did he do something? Did he do something to you?”
I’m standing, shaking with fury. She backs up against the wall as I walk forward. “Tell me, Lacey. What is it?”
“It doesn’t make any difference now.”
I punch the brick wall beside her hard enough to bring fresh blood to my knuckles. “Tell me!”
She takes a step forward, forcing me back. “He tried to come onto me, force himself on me after class.”
The tension slips away to be replaced by horror. “Did he…?”
She shakes her head. “No. I kicked him in the balls, pretended you were in your room.”
“Jesus. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Because I knew something like this would happen, and it has. He’s gotten away with it.”
But I’m firm. “He’s not getting away with anything. Not on my fucking watch.”
Lacey goes to place her hands on my chest. “Don’t do anything stupid, Payton. I’m begging you.”
I throw my hands out. “I’m no longer a student here, Lacey. Once him and I walk through those front gates we’re two ordinary citizens again. The rules of Pemberton no longer apply.”
“This isn’t the end of the world,” she says, trying to comfort me, but I’m way beyond that now.
“For you, maybe,” I scoff, “but what do I have to go back to but my fucking father saying, ‘told you so’? I’m never going to live this d
own.”
“Since when do you care what your father thinks?” She presses herself against me. “Only I matter, remember? You said that yourself.”
I run my hand through my hair, my heart continuing to pump ahead of me. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done.”
“You’ll get through this. You’ll be okay.”
She lifts up onto her toes to kiss me. I let her, and with those lips on mine I begin to simmer. The tension falls away and I realize she’s right. It will be okay. I’ve got her. What the hell else do I need?
She holds the side of my face, pulling away. “Good?”
“Good,” I nod.
“You’ve got me, Payton. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know.”
I shift away, looking down at my knuckles, the pain starting. “I’m going to go clean up. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she smiles. “We’ll figure it out, together.”
I head to the bathroom, passing the door to Ryan’s room around the corner. It’s closed. He might be inside; he might not.
Let it go, I tell myself. What would bashing his head in now achieve apart from much-needed satisfaction?
I’m in the bathroom, alone, thinking it over. I’m kind of hoping he shows his face one last time when I hear commotion outside.
It could be anything really—a drill, a training exercise.
I notice the door to Ryan’s room is wide open when I come out of the bathroom.
Don’t do it.
I can’t help myself. I walk in.
His room’s largely bare, packed away in haste, save for a lone sock on the floor and a stack of textbooks in the desk.
I pick one up, not really sure why, when I spot the edge of something under the corner of the mattress.
I reach down and pull it out.
It’s a photo.
In it Ryan’s standing with a group of guys in front of a frat house—Sigma Phi or some shit. I study Ryan’s smug fucking expression, the one he seems to wear twenty-four seven.
And then I notice it.
He’s wearing a cap. Not any cap. The cap. The one in the photo the Captain handed me.
My first thought is that it’s a coincidence, but then I realize it’s anything but.
It all locks together.
“Holy shit.” I say it aloud.
It wasn’t Jackson at all.