Unethical

by Jennifer Blackwood

  Votes just in: Worst. Daughter. Ever.

  I shifted my attention back to Mrs. Cripps, who regarded me with a gaze that said I’d been silent too long. “Why?” Why would someone want to end her life when there was an option to live?

  “Nikki, besides grabbing that one man’s nice butt a couple times a week and talking to you, pain is all I think about. Why should someone else have the power to decide what I do with my life? It’s my time; I’ve come to terms.”

  I nodded. How could I argue with that? I wouldn’t want someone dictating what I did with my life, either.

  Did Mom feel the same as Mrs. Cripps? Pain consumed her every thought? But she didn’t look like Mrs. Cripps—didn’t openly show her discomfort. Maybe if she had, I wouldn’t have spent the last couple years drowning in bitterness.

  I had so many questions about Mom’s last few weeks. And only one person held the answers. Something told me a letter would be a cop out. No, it’s time. I needed to see Dad. I’d ask Blake tonight if he would drive me to the prison. If I was going to do this, I needed all the support I could get.

  It took five agonizing hours for Jules to pack up her stuff for her trip to her parents’. I waited for her to leave so Blake could come over. Then the real fun would start.

  “Sure you don’t want to come with me to my parents’?” Jules had asked me at least a dozen times since she found out my plan to stay here over break.

  “No, I’m fine. Seriously. Blake will be here, too.”

  Jules smirked, staring down at her suitcase. “Okay, but you need to text me at least a few times a day. And bedroom door stays open at all times. House rules.” She winked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She stuffed a pink cardigan into her suitcase. Folding down the top flap of the bag, she kneeled on top of it and zipped it shut. “If you need anything, I’m only a few hours away. I’ll be back on Sunday.”

  “Sounds good. Drive safe.” I pulled her into a hug. She seemed a little thinner than normal, my arms able to wrap more easily around her. God, was this from the Adderall? Was it worse than I’d originally thought?

  Before I had the chance to interrogate, Jules heaved the suitcase from her bed and it dropped on the floor with a loud thud. She pulled up the extendable handle, kicked the bottom of the suitcase, and rolled it toward the door. She hugged me once more.

  With my nose buried in her hair, I asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?” I didn’t feel right not asking before she left.

  “Bitch, please. I’m doing just fine.” She flashed a totally unconvincing smile.

  “You’re sure?”

  She put a hand on her hip and glared. “What are you, my mother?”

  “Just a concerned friend.”

  Her frown morphed back into a smile. “I’m fine. Just stressed with school and work. A few days at home will do me some good.” She gave my arm a squeeze, and then exited the apartment, the cold air from outside now creating a wind tunnel in our entranceway. Stress—the common denominator in every pre-med student’s life. Hopefully she’d come back happier.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket a couple minutes after Jules left.

  J: Miss you already, bitch.

  I smiled. A week without her would move at a glacial pace. Even though Blake and I had plans to hang out during break, a part of me wished I had taken her up on her offer to visit her family. From the few times I’d seen them, they were really nice. They even added some goodies for me in her care packages. Once her mom found out my obsession with chocolate-covered coffee beans, she sent them in every shipment to Jules.

  P: Miss you too, skank. Now keep your eyes on the road.

  J: So bossy. Text you when I get to Seattle.

  Another text rang in; Blake this time. The organ soup sloshing around in my body bubbled up to a steady simmer.

  B: Are we still on for tonight?

  P: I don’t know. What’s in it for me?

  B: Everything you could ever desire.

  P: A pony?

  B: How about an Italian Stallion?

  P: Rolling my eyes. Does that really work on girls?

  B: Can I come over or not?

  P: Sure.

  B: Be there in ten.

  P: I have Sour Patch Kids.

  B: Make it eight.

  True to his word, Blake pulled into Jules’s spot eight minutes after he sent his last text. His headlights shone through my bedroom window, catching the reflection in my mirrored closet door.

  Blake booked it out of his car and made it to my doorstep before I had a chance to walk out of my bedroom. He didn’t even knock before opening the front door.

  He pulled me into a hug, and I pressed my face into his chest. “I missed you.”

  “Me, too.” His deep voice rumbled against my cheek.

  “Can we just go back to being…us?”

  He smoothed his hand down my back, hooking a finger through my belt loop. “I’d love that.”

  I nodded into his chest and squeezed him tighter.

  After a few seconds, he pulled away and said, “So where are the Sour Patch Kids?”

  “Sorry, that was just a lure to get you here.”

  “You’re gonna pay for that. You know what happens to naughty girls who lie?” The playfulness in his voice sent shivers through my core.

  “What happens?” I couldn’t keep the Cheshire cat grin from spreading across my face. I missed this.

  “They get punished,” he whispered, his deep, gravelly voice laced with need.

  I squealed as he picked me up. From ingrained habit, I wrapped my legs around his waist. He gave my butt a little swat, and I giggled. The endorphins crashing through my blood created a buzz stronger than any alcohol. He kissed my neck, and a dull ache sent my hips grinding into him. I rubbed against his excitement, which bulged through the fabric of his jeans, igniting a fire in my veins.

  “I could think of other sweet things to eat.” He nipped at my neck, and I tipped my head back, giving him better access, a soft groan escaping my lips as his teeth grazed my skin.

  Oh yes, please.

  My legs tightened around him, and a slow burn spread low in my stomach. I ran my hands through his curls. When I tugged at his scalp, he growled in my ear. The sound unleashed all the pent-up sexual frustration I’d endured for way too long. Faster. This needed to go faster.

  I released my grip from his hair and yanked at the bottom of his shirt. He reached his arms above his head, and I pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. My breath hitched at the sight of his bare chest—at least what I could see while I was wrapped around him. Six feet of gorgeous guy. From his well-defined pecs to each heavenly ripple of his abs. I peered down at his bulging calves, and my ovaries broke out into golf claps. I worked my gaze back up his body. Even though I had been with him before, he’d changed so much since high school. His muscles were bigger, his body more filled out. A man now. A fucking hot man that I wanted inside me.

  I unwrapped my legs and stood in front of him, admiring him. Tracing my fingers over the grooves of his V lines, he quivered beneath my touch.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Blake

  I almost lost it when Payton rocked her hips into me and pulled my hair. The mixture of pain and pleasure went straight to my cock.

  I had every intention of taking this slow, but once I saw her in those little black shorts—forget it. I couldn’t hold back.

  It seemed pretty unfair that I had my shirt off and she still stood fully clothed. I stuck my hands under her tank top, my thumbs brushing over her tight stomach. Her arms raised straight in the air, and I ripped the shirt over her head.

  Her chest heaved, and her breasts spilled over the fabric of her lace bra. Screw being good. This was so much better. She was gorgeous, from her auburn curls to the perfect handful of boobs that brushed against my chest. I pushed her against the wall. This would be the perfect place to bend her over and fuck her into oblivion, but I wanted
it to be a little classier the first time we got back together. I needed her to see how much she meant to me—that she was my world.

  I slipped down the straps of her bra and the cups covering her breasts, and I ran my tongue around her nipple until she groaned. I nipped at the tip, which puckered in response. She fisted my hair and yanked hard. I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face. Nothing beat her reaction to my touch.

  My tongue worked its way over to her other nipple, and she cried out when I made little circles with my tongue. She raked her fingers across my back.

  “Bedroom?” Her request was barely audible over her heavy breaths. She didn’t have to ask me twice. She squealed when I picked her up and rushed down the hall.

  I pushed through her door and laid her out on the bed. Her legs unhooked from my waist as I trailed kisses down her body using my tongue and teeth. She arched as my hands brushed past her ribs. I took the signal and slipped my hands behind her back and undid the clasp of her bra. It ended up somewhere on the floor, and I went back to kissing her, my tongue working its way to her breasts. She writhed under me as my stubble skimmed over her nipple. I looked into her eyes, and her expression changed into a devious smile.

  She grabbed my shoulders and pushed me to the side. She pinned me down on the bed, taking control, completely restoring my belief that a god did exist. Another thing that had changed since the last time we were together. Before, all the stars needed to align and Venus had to be in retrograde before she took off all her clothes. Her being on top during sex? Never an option. Now, she slid onto my lap, straddling me with those ridiculously short shorts that begged to be taken off.

  I glided my hand over her silky smooth thigh as she slipped her tongue into my mouth. She rocked her hips against me, and I swelled more—if that were even possible. She gave a mischievous grin and kissed my neck. Her lips set my skin on fire as she trailed down my stomach. She slipped her finger underneath the band of my jeans and boxers. Without missing a beat, she unbuttoned my pants and tugged them off, along with my boxers, exposing my cock. Her face hovered close, and I twitched, anticipating what she was going to do next.

  “Payton, you don’t have to— Oh God.” Her mouth wrapped around me, and she slid her warm tongue in circles. She hummed, and the vibrations sent stars crashing across my eyelids. I closed my eyes tighter and pushed my head deeper into the pillow, trying to hold out as long as I could. It had been a while since a girl had gone down on me, since Payton came back in my life. And with Andrew in the room all the time, I hadn’t had the chance to service myself in a while, which meant this might be a short show. I didn’t dare look at her or that’d be the end of me. I counted backward from a hundred. Anything to keep that silky mouth on me.

  She circled her tongue around my shaft, and her teeth lightly grazed me as she made her way back up to the tip. I fisted the sheets, and her name came out through my ragged breath.

  She hummed again, bringing me dangerously close to the point of no return. “Payton,” I warned.

  She didn’t stop, so I leaned up on my elbows to assess the situation. She looked me straight in the eye—those green eyes of hers so seductive, so fucking sexy. It sent me over the edge.

  My body jerked around, and with the complete ecstasy wracking through me, I was unable to control the spastic movements. It surprised me when she didn’t pull away at the last second, and instead let me explode into her mouth.

  “Fuck,” I muttered as she took my whole length. If this wasn’t the hottest thing in the world, I seriously didn’t know what else could be. She withdrew me from her mouth, swallowed, and her eyes turned dark and hungry.

  Holy fuck. Who was this sex goddess that currently resided in my ex/not-so-ex-anymore girlfriend?

  As much as going to sleep sounded like a great option as the post-orgasm lethargy crept in, Payton deserved the same five-star treatment she’d given me. I needed to taste her, to feel her sweetness in my mouth. I scooped her in my arms and pinned her down on the bed. Sliding her shorts off her body along with her black lace thong, I took the opportunity to admire her exquisite body sprawled out on the bed, completely relaxed, a sexy little grin on her lips. She was so much hotter when she was confident about herself, and not trying to cover up what she thought were her “faults” like she had done in high school.

  My kisses started at her flat stomach, which flexed underneath my touch. I slid my hand up her thigh, and she wriggled beneath me as I came closer to her sweet spot. My thumb grazed over her clit, and she cried out.

  Her eyes screwed shut as I slipped a finger into her wetness. I inserted another finger and massaged my thumb over her clit as I flicked my other fingers inside her. She let out a low moan and pushed on my shoulders, pushing me lower.

  “Is there something you want?” I asked innocently. I knew what she wanted. I wanted her to say it. I liked this new, brazen Payton.

  “Please, Blake,” she whimpered.

  “Please, what?” I kissed the area around the spot that made her mine, her body contorting every time my lips came near.

  “Ohmigod, please, just please go down on me.”

  So. Fucking. Hot.

  As the lady requested, I obliged by running my tongue over her center. She tasted terrific, so sweet. I moaned as her taste filled my mouth. She mewed as I swirled my tongue and entered her wetness. Her hips rocked and pushed my tongue deeper. My cock hardened again from seeing her in this much pleasure. I replaced my tongue with two fingers in her and circled my tongue around her clit, spelling out the alphabet.

  I had gotten to the letter W when she pushed her hands through my hair and shouted my name.

  I pulled away, wanting to see her squirm. I needed to see the effect I had on her. “Do you want me to stop? I mean, if you’re not enjoying this…”

  Her breath rushed out in jagged huffs, her eyes unfocused. By the way her legs shook, she hovered on the brink of release. Her voice came out hoarse as she said, “What the fuck? Get back down there.” She pushed my shoulders again, guiding me to exactly where she wanted.

  I loved this bossy Payton. I was hard again, throbbing, but this wasn’t about me. This was about giving her the pleasure only I could give her. I moved my tongue back onto her, and she gasped.

  Her hips bucked, breathing grew more rapid. Her muscles tensed up. She was so close. I made it to Z when she cried out my name again, tightening around my two fingers.

  She lay on the bed as I traced kisses back up her chest and neck. Her limp body melted into the mattress, and I wanted nothing more than to hold her in my arms the rest of the night.

  “Wow.”

  “Wow,” I agreed. Seeing her in total bliss was better than any orgasm I could ever have.

  I woke up dazed and disoriented as Payton moaned beside me. Her little space heater ass made it uncomfortable to spoon her, but she pulled me closer, her hands holding my arm in a vise grip.

  Another whimper came out, and then she said, “No, Dad. Please.”

  I didn’t know whether to wake her from this dream or be completely selfish and let it play out so I could get more details.

  She sniffled, and I made the executive decision it’d be a dick move if I let her cry in her sleep. I shook her shoulder, but her cries grew louder.

  “No! Daddy!” Her scream pierced my ears. If she didn’t stop, her neighbors would probably report a domestic dispute.

  I shook her harder. “Payton, wake up. It’s just a dream.”

  Her body stiffened, and she sucked in a jagged breath. “Blake?”

  “Yeah, baby, it’s me.” I stroked her hair and kissed her sweat-slicked skin. I continued planting kisses on her until she stopped crying. It killed me to see her so upset. I would do anything to make it go away. Her body shook as I held her. How often did she have these dreams?

  I knew what it was like being haunted by the past. If people didn’t face their demons head-on, they kept coming back, especially while sleeping. As much as I ragged on my aunt, she h
elped me through my mom’s passing and got me into therapy so I could talk to someone about it. I never told Payton, because I didn’t want her to see me as weak, but now I understood I wasn’t weak; I just needed help.

  She sniffled and wiped her hand across her nose. “Can you take me somewhere tomorrow?”

  “Sure. Where were you thinking?”

  “The prison.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Payton

  I kept my gaze fixed on the cement exterior as we made our way into the prison. I had never visited one before. I didn’t even know how to get in contact with my dad once he was ushered into his nine-by-nine cell.

  Blake put his hand on my shoulder, and the earnest look in his eyes made me stop in my tracks. “I’m here for you. Anything you need, just tell me.”

  As much as I wished Blake could solve my problems, I needed to do this one on my own. For the past two years, I had pushed my grief into a neat and tidy stack in the back of my mind; it had slowly spread into other crevices, poisoning my soul. I couldn’t live this way. I needed my dad—he was all I had left.

  Blake ushered me to the receptionist who sat behind what I assumed to be bulletproof glass.

  “Name?”

  “Payton.”

  She looked up at me, obviously peeved by my response. “Last name?”

  Oh. “Cooper.” A shudder wracked through my body as I used my last name that I had hidden from everyone for so long.

  “License, please.”

  Fumbling in my purse, I found my wallet, extracted my California ID from behind my Florida ID—I still had my old driver’s license with my father’s last name since I’d told the Florida DMV I lost it—and handed it to her through the slot below the glass.

  “Who are you here to visit today?”

  What if he didn’t want to see me? What if it was too late? I could still leave. If I just asked for my ID back, I could retreat to the car, and my father would be none the wiser.

  A Hispanic lady loudly smacking her gum walked up behind me with six kids in tow. One let out a blood-curdling scream and ran around the reception area. More people came through the entrance, the line behind me slowly building along with my need to get out of here. I’d gladly take one of Dr. Centafont’s lectures right about now. Maybe even a second chance at stabbing Andrew.