by Sky Corgan
“Oh God. Shawn. Please. Stop. It's too much,” I beg.
He leans over me, fisting his hand into my hair as he whispers into my ear, “This is what you wanted. You wanted my worst. Can't take it?”
I liked his best better, if that even was his best. “I didn't think it would feel like this.”
“I don't think you know what you want.” He grabs my wrists and forces them behind my back, pulling me up by them. The strain on my shoulders is intense at first, but it dies down as my muscles flex.
The way he pulls me against him increases the pressure inside of me, but it also angles his cock to hit a sweet spot. I cry out as he continues to ravage my cunt, knowing that the entire neighborhood can probably hear me. It's too much for me to keep quiet though. He's being so rough and is in so deep.
“I'm going to come inside you,” he warns. For a split second, I panic, thinking about Tristan. But then I remember Shawn is actually wearing a condom. It's just words.
He pants as he pumps into me until he can't take it anymore. I listen to the sound of his breath hitching as he reaches that euphoric place where heaven and bodily pleasures collide. Almost immediately, he releases my wrists and turns me over to face him, his cock never leaving my body.
I grin at him as he thrusts slowly into me, milking out the last of his orgasm. His hand slides between my legs and his fingers zero in on my clit. It only takes a few swift circles coupled with his big cock inside of me to make me follow suit, my body clamping around his dick as contractions assault my nether region.
“Oh, it's so good,” I whisper to no one in particular. It's better than good. It's amazing. And I'm a bit sad it's over.
He pulls out of me and crawls up onto the bed, resting his head on the pillow. I join him, placing the pillow that was beneath my stomach beside his pillow, though I rest my head on his pillow instead, rolling over to look at him. He seems completely satisfied, laying with his arms crossed beneath his head, staring up at the ceiling and catching his breath.
“I hate you,” I tell him. “I hate you both.”
“Why?” He grins at me.
“Because this isn't who I am. This isn't who I was supposed to be. I'm the girl who was supposed to only have sex with the man she was going to marry.”
“It's a little late for that now.” He gives me a sarcastic look.
“I know,” I sigh. “I guess I'm just disappointed in myself. I had sex with Tristan because I thought he was perfect. And then . . . things went wrong. And now here I am with you. I feel like you two have turned me into a slut.”
“You've only been with the two of us. That doesn't make you a slut.” His words are stern and somehow calming, as if he's actually angry that I would call myself a slut. It makes me feel better.
I roll against him and walk my fingers across his chest. “So what happens now?”
“What do you mean?”
“With us. What happens with us?” It's a dangerous question. This is where I give him the power to hurt me irreparably. If this was just a fuck to him, I'll be crushed.
“That completely depends on you, Sarah.” As if avoiding further conversation, Shawn sits up, rolls out of bed, and goes to find his clothes.
I sigh in discontent as I watch him. Liar. He's definitely not a cuddler. He only said that to get in my pants. That's the kind of guy he is. He's wicked and selfish and I just . . . Ugh. Why did I let this happen?
“I suppose it's time for me to go,” my voice sounds strained. It's better to show myself out than to have him kick me out.
“Do you want something to eat?” he asks as he pulls his boxers up over his beautiful, now flaccid cock.
“Food. Yeah,” I grumble as I sit up to get dressed as well. At least, he's not kicking me out right away.
We put on our clothes in near silence, and as the seconds tick by, tension and awkwardness fill the room. It's like cold air started to leak in from somewhere the second he came. This is the Shawn I'm used to, the mysterious man who seems so closed off from everyone. I don't like him. I prefer the Shawn who was downstairs with me watching the movie. I prefer the Shawn who is more like Tristan.
Tristan. What have I done?
I try to hide the depression sweeping over me as Shawn leads me out of his bedroom. The way he places his hand on the small of my back reminds me of the same way he herded me at the coffee shop. He makes sure he's in control of everything. I can't go back, only forward.
As we begin descending the stairs, I hear the sound of a door closing. My eyes flit up to the foyer just in time to see Tristan walking through it and towards us. The sound of our footsteps on the stairs draws his attention up to us. It feels like my heart stops beating when our eyes meet, as if he can see right through me to what I've just done. I want to die.
“Hey,” he says hesitantly when we meet at the bottom of the stairs. “I didn't expect to see you here.”
Shawn flashes him a charming smile, hiding his betrayal completely, as if lying is second nature to him. “She wanted to be here when you got back from your trip.”
The son of a bitch knew Tristan was coming home. He set me up. I can't believe it.
It takes everything in me to fight the tears threatening to line my eyes, but it's still not enough. “Yeah.” I nod, trying to hide my face. “I missed you. I wanted to see you.”
“Hey now.” Tristan pulls me into his arms, and I break out into full sobs. My God, what have I done? “It's alright. I'm glad you're here. I'm so sorry about what happened the other night in the car. I've been wanting to apologize, but I just—” He holds me close and inhales deeply.
It feels as if someone has just driven a knife through my heart and twisted it. I know why he stopped talking. I know he smells Shawn's cologne all over me. There's no way he could miss is. The scent of sweat and sex and Shawn. Mostly Shawn.
“I have to go to the bathroom.” I pull out of his arms and prepare to jog back upstairs.
“The downstairs bathroom is working now.” Shawn points in the direction of the downstairs bathroom nonchalantly.
“Thanks.” I can't even look at Tristan as I make my escape.
If my car was here, I would run to it and never look back. I've really screwed things up. I allowed Shawn to lie to me and seduce me and twist things until he had me right in the palm of his hand. He was never trying to look out for Tristan. He was trying to make sure we broke up. As much as I want to be angry at him though, I only have myself to blame. I could have said no. I could have resisted him. I could have chosen not to believe all the bullshit that he was feeding me. What am I going to do now?
I find the bathroom, lock the door behind myself, sit on the toilet, and cry. This is a nightmare. Worse than a nightmare. The thought of having to face Tristan again makes me sick to my stomach, especially since he knows. How could he not know?
It takes a good ten minutes for me to recompose myself. By some miracle, neither of the two guys come after me.
I don't want to face Tristan again, but I know I have to. Hopefully, we can be cordial until I can get Shawn to take me home. Then I won't ever see either of them again. That's the best solution to this. My heart is broken, but it will mend. Time heals most things.
I wrap my arms around myself and walk through the house with my head hung low. Is this what the walk of shame looks like? Shawn used me for a one-night stand. I'm no longer naive enough to think it was anything more than that.
I won't explain what happened to Tristan. He's been through too much. If Shawn wants to tell him what happened, he can. After I'm long gone.
I head toward the sound of their voices, which is coming from the kitchen. As I get closer, I realize they're talking about me. It makes me stop dead in my tracks. While I know that eavesdropping is wrong, I just can't help it. This may be the only way I can find out if Tristan suspects something.
“Does she know the truth about Kelly yet?” Tristan asks.
“Some of it. I told her it wasn't your fault,” Shawn r
eplies sternly.
“It was my fault though,” he sighs.
“Trist, you really need to stop blaming yourself. You're never going to get over it if you don't stop blaming yourself.”
“It was my fault though, Shawn. You know it as well as I do,” he hesitates. “So you didn't tell her the other part?”
“It's not my place. That's a you thing. I think it's important for you to tell her yourself.”
“I don't want to tell her,” Tristan's words are short.
“History isn't going to repeat itself. You've seen to that. We're doing things your way this time. She has no reason not to want you.”
“My way,” he repeats. “How did that go, by the way? Did the two of you . . .”
“Yes. It wasn't easy getting her up to my room. You know how she is. She was probably thinking of you the entire time.”
“I doubt that,” he huffs.
“She loves you, Tristan.”
“I want her to love both of us. It's not fair if she doesn't.”
“She might, over time. You know I'm not exactly her type.”
“You're everyone's type,” Tristan lets out a short laugh. “I remember you stealing my girlfriends in high school.”
“This isn't the same thing.” Shawn doesn't sound amused.
“No. It's not. This is necessity. If she wants me, she's going to have to be willing to be with both of us.”
CHAPTER TWO
My mouth falls agape. Are they being serious? I can't believe it. They've been playing me. This whole thing was planned. Tristan wanted me to sleep with Shawn. Shawn wasn't lying. This was all for his brother. But what about me? Where do my feelings fall into the equation? Did they even think about that?
I can't stand here and listen anymore. I just can't. I stomp into the room with anger painting my face red. “You assholes.”
If looks could kill, they would both drop dead on the spot. I've never seen two men look so shocked. It's as if they've been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. In my cookie jar.
“Sarah.” Tristan is the first to break his surprised stance. He approaches me with a smile, reaching his hand up to touch my shoulder, but I pull away from him.
“Don't you fucking touch me!” That's not a word I typically use, but I'm so ripe with rage that I don't have much control over what comes out of my mouth at this point.
“How long were you standing there?” Shawn asks nonchalantly. I want to punch that uncaring expression right off of his pretty face.
“Long enough to hear that you two sick sons of bitches planned this whole thing.”
“Sarah, I'm sorry. Let me explain.” Tristan seems pained. I couldn't give two shits about that though.
“Explain it to him.” I point to Shawn. “I'm done listening to all the lies you two have been feeding me. Do you think this is some kind of sick game, toying with my feelings like this?”
Tristan opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Shawn stares at me as if he could burn a hole right through me with his icy gaze. It infuriates me that I smell like him, that I . . .
“You know what, forget it. I can't stand either of you right now. I'll get my own ride.” I turn to walk out of the house, but Tristan gives chase. He grabs my wrist to stop me, and I reflexively turn and slap him as hard as I can.
“Don't you . . .” fucking touch me. No, I won't say it. I'm better than that. “I'm leaving.” I jerk my hand away from him and keep walking. He's frozen in place, his head turned to the side, his lips parted in disbelief. It's the last thing I see of him before I make it out the front door.
My hands tremble as I reach in my purse for my phone and call Ethel. “Come pick me up at the party house.” It's all I can say without bursting into uncontrollable sobs. I don't even give her a chance to respond. She'll come. She's my sister.
Instead of sitting on the curb, I start walking towards my house. I need to put as much distance between me and those boys as I can. I expect Tristan to come after me, but he doesn't. I can't tell if that makes me happy or not. The romantic in him should be running after me. Who am I kidding? Everything was an act. That isn't really who he is.
I wrap my arms around myself and clench my teeth together, fighting back tears. They're coming though, and I can't stop them. At least, I'm not heaving. I'm mewling silently, consumed by my own misery.
Tristan made me think he loved me. Then he had his brother seduce me. Why? I don't understand, and I doubt there's anything that could make me understand.
It feels like a lifetime passes before I see Ethel's car round the corner. She pulls over onto the side of the road with a screeching halt. I can feel her concern and anger radiating through the car.
When I open the door, she leans across the seat to look up at me. “Who do I need to kill?”
“Both of them,” I reply solemnly, not really meaning it. I'm on the cusp of hating them, but not quite there yet. Everything is too fresh. My brain and body and heart are still processing everything that's happened.
“Let's go beat some white boy ass then.” She waits until I'm in the car with the door closed before she puts it in drive and peels away from the curb, heading back to Tristan and Shawn's house.
“Ethel, no. It's fine. Just take me home.” I buckle my seat belt while she's driving.
The car slows down, and she gives me a look of worry that I've never seen before. “Are you sure? Cause if I need to cut off some dicks, I brought a knife.” She reaches over to open the armrest console, and sure enough, there's a knife in there. For some reason, it just makes me laugh.
“I appreciate it, sis. For as much as I'd like two dick trophies tacked to my wall, that won't be necessary.” It's amazing how she can make me feel better so quickly. I never knew she really cared.
Despite my plea though, she doesn't turn around. There's a look of determination on her face that's not going anywhere. I rest against the seat, just glad to be out of a bad situation. That is, until she pulls up into their driveway.
“What are you doing?” I ask as she parks next to Shawn's vehicle, grabs the knife from the console, and starts climbing out of the car.
“What's deserved. Nobody fucks with my sister.”
I want to stop her, but I don't. She's not crazy enough to stab one of them. At least, I hope she's not. Even if she is, I'm too emotionally exhausted to stop her.
I sit there and watch as she goes over to Shawn's car and slashes his tires one at a time. That's what he gets for not parking in the garage, is all I can think. By the time she gets to the third one, I see her head shoot up towards the door to the house. One of them must be coming out. Or both of them. I duck down as if it will hide me, but they'll know who did it. There's no question.
Ethel makes a run for the car, and we escape just in time to see Shawn run to the end of the driveway to scream at us. I can't help but smirk at him in the rear-view mirror. The prick can afford to buy new tires. We just created an inconvenience for him.
“That was awesome, Ethel.” I turn to her with grin.
“So, now that that business is taken care of, are you going to tell me what happened?” Her head snaps towards me as if I owe her the story for her courageous revenge.
“They were playing me.” It feels oddly relieving getting it off my chest.
“They?” She arches an eyebrow.
I bite my bottom lip. Here is where I start feeling guilty again. She wanted Shawn, but I slept with him anyway. Will she get angry if I tell her that? I'm not sure it's such a good idea, knowing she has a knife in the car with us. “You know how I told you what happened in the bathroom.”
“Yeah.” She nods.
“Well, apparently, that was planned. Tristan wanted me to sleep with Shawn. I don't know why yet. I didn't give them a chance to explain. I just heard them talking about it when I came back from the bathroom earlier.”
“So you were eavesdropping on them?” She glances at me out of her peripheral vision.
“Yeah. Tr
istan said that if I wanted to be with him, I'd have to be willing to be with both of them.” Just saying it makes me feel dirty.
The car pulls to a screeching halt. Ethel puts it in park in the middle of the neighborhood and throws her arm over the back of her seat to twist around and look at me. “Are you telling me that I just slashed that dude's tires because his kinky-ass brother wanted to have some fantasy threesome with you?”
Ut oh, here comes the anger. I keep forgetting that to her that would have been a dream come true. “They were playing with my emotions, Ethel, like I was some kind of toy that doesn't mean shit to them. I don't even know what they were getting out of this. I don't even know if Tristan's feelings for me were ever sincere.” I gesture erratically, trying to show her how upset the situation made me.
Her shoulders slump, and she turns back forward, putting the car in drive and continuing down the road. We say nothing to each other for the rest of the ride, which only hurts me more. Right now, I need support, not dismissal. This isn't something I can exactly talk to my mother about.
We get back to our house, and Ethel climbs out of the car and slams the door behind herself. I want to say something, but I don't. She's upset. Upset that she acted so irrationally over something that wouldn't have been a big deal had it happened to her. Or maybe it would have. She doesn't know what really went down, and I don't feel like explaining any further. It would probably only piss her off more.
We go our separate ways. I head to my bedroom and close the door behind myself, throwing myself onto the bed for a long bout of crying and restless sleep.
***
I wake up feeling numb and broken. There's an emptiness inside of me that I never knew could exist. It goes beyond my injured heart, straight into my soul.
I go to work like a zombie. Forcing a smile is especially hard today, and I can't keep my mind focused on much of anything. Take an order. Make a coffee. Check a customer out. Do they want a pastry with that? Crap, I forgot the whipped cream. And oh yeah, I slept with brothers who were totally playing me. I hate life. I wish I hadn't been born. Dramatic, I know. But nothing makes sense anymore, and who wants to live in a world that doesn't make sense.
