by Nicole Fox
“You made me feel like shit, Noah. That wasn’t fun for me.”
I plant my hands on the edge of the counter on either side of her hips and lean forward, forcing her to tuck her chin in to keep some distance between us.
My next words are spoken in a high-pitched falsetto.
“Noah. Oh, God!”
Penny slaps my chest. I grab her hand out of the air and pin it to the tiled wall.
Immediately, her entire body stills. The fire in her green eyes dulls, and her lips part.
Putty. Penelope LaFevre is putty in my hands.
“Admit it,” I whisper, curling her fingers down and kissing the tip of her middle one. “It felt good.”
“Just because it felt good, doesn’t mean it was right,” she says, voice shaky.
“So, you’re saying it was fun, after all? Before you said you didn’t have any fun, but now you’re saying it felt good. Which is it?”
Penny turns her face away. “I know why you’re doing this, Noah.”
I suck the tip of her finger into my mouth and swirl my tongue around the end. “Because I like that you like it.”
“No.” Her legs part slightly, allowing me to move in closer. “Because you want to hurt me.”
“How could I hurt you?” I say innocently.
I grab her other hand and press her palms together in a prayer. Then, I lower my head and lift her arms over my neck.
Immediately, her hands cup my head, her fingers slipping into the hair at the base of my neck.
Penny looks at me, eyes wide, like she can’t believe what’s happening, but she’s helpless to stop it.
I’m right there with her.
I feel like I’m floating above my body, watching myself seduce her, incapable of stopping.
“You’re trying to make me want you so you can make me hate myself for it later,” she says, voice barely audibly. “It’s obvious.”
I press my hips forward, spreading her legs even further. Her butt slides to the edge of the counter and her skirt rides up, revealing the lacy tops of her stockings.
The sight sends blood rushing downward, making it even harder to keep my thoughts straight.
“So, stop me.”
My nose brushes against the tip of hers.
Penny leans into the touch, the smooth skin of her cheek sliding over mine, her breath warm on my neck.
“I can’t. Because I want to hurt you, too.”
I follow the length of her arms around my neck until my fingers interlace with hers.
As soon as they do, I jerk her arms up, pinning them to the mirror above her head. She gasps, but hooks her legs around the backs of mine.
I pull back and admire her, stretched in front of me, legs hooked around my waist, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed.
This is about revenge.
This is about settling the score.
Nothing else.
Even I barely believe myself.
But I’m too far gone to stop now.
I let her arms go and step out from between her legs, stepping backwards. Confusion flickers across her face, but I hold my arms out wide, welcoming.
“You want to hurt me? I’d like to see you try.”
Whatever thread of self-control had been holding Penny back snaps. I see it happen, the way her expression turns wild and she practically lunges off of the counter at me.
She cups one hand around my jawline and threads the other into my hair like it belongs there. Then, she presses onto her toes and kisses me.
I challenged her to hurt me, but I’m still surprised by her attempt.
At least, by the ferocity in it.
Penny’s mouth is soft, but demanding against mine. Her full lips part mine, sucking on my bottom lip and then my top.
Her teeth nip at me and her tongue tastes me, and I don’t think I’m breathing.
I’m not new or unexperienced, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it never felt like this.
There is only one person who has ever made my head swim and my heart stop.
There is only one girl who has ever been able to bring me to my knees with her mouth.
But today, I want to bring her to her knees.
I grab Penny’s shoulders and pull her away.
“What?”
Without another word, I unzip the front of my pants and wait, wondering what Penny will do.
She licks her lips, considering, and the anticipation is painful.
Finally, she places her hands on my hips for balance, drops to her knees, and reaches her small hand into my jeans.
Everything seems to be happening in slow motion. The moment I’ve fantasized about for years is playing out in front of me.
But I’m frozen as Penny strokes my length with her soft hand and looks up at me in anticipation.
I watch, mesmerized, as she parts her pink lips, exhales warm air over my sensitive tip, and then takes me into her mouth.
The sensation is powerful and immediate, sending a shiver up my spine, but I do my best to hold still.
If I don’t, I’m not sure what will happen.
Penny can’t know how much I want this. What this is doing to me.
Except, she has to know. I’m rock hard in her hand, practically twitching.
She starts with shallow sucks at first, an inch, then two. Back and forth, moving forward and then retreating.
Her plump lips pucker at my tip, pressing a kiss there, before taking me in again.
Deeper this time than the others.
With each pass over me, I’m growing more impatient, more desperate.
My hips begin to thrust gently in time with her movements. Penny digs her fingers into my hips and pulls me towards her, encouraging me when I don’t need any encouragement.
I should have found a wall to lean against because my legs are growing weak.
This whole plan was meant to bring Penny down.
But I’m the one finding myself on shaky ground all of a sudden.
I reach down to grab her head for no other reason than to steady myself, and I find one of her loose braids. An idea forms, and I reach down and grab the other, holding one in each hand. Then, like reins, I give them a tug.
Penny’s mouth slides further onto me. I groan, possessed by the sensation and my power over her.
Rhythmically, I pull on her hair, guiding her down and back on my cock until she is sucking all the way to the tip before taking me all the way to the base.
Again and again, she sucks me off, swirling her tongue around my length, varying the amount of pressure and sucking.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and I’m positive the heat building in my belly is going to consume me.
I’ll burn up with it.
Damn, what a way it would be to go.
I let go of Penny’s braids, content to let her finish in her own way, and she immediately rises up on her knees, finding a slightly new angle. She wraps one hand around my base and begins working me from both ends, her hand and mouth meeting in the middle.
“Fuck,” I moan, placing a hand on the back of her head, stroking her silky hair as she works. “I’m going to come.”
It’s a warning, a chance for her to pull away. A small act of mercy from me to her.
But Penny seems to take it as a challenge instead. She works faster, harder.
Soft moans build in the back of her throat, vibrating against my length.
Until I can’t hold it back anymore.
The embers inside of me catch fire and explode.
My entire body jerks forward, and Penny stills, her lips suctioned against my base, her nose pressed to the curls just below my belly button.
Pleasure fills me and overflows in a near endless wave, radiating warmth to the very edges of me and beyond.
My body feels light, tingly. Contentment washes over me in wave after wave.
And Penny takes it all.
When it finally stops and Penny lets me slide out of her mouth, I stand th
ere, staring at the ceiling, lost to the bliss of an unbelievable orgasm.
She wipes her mouth with her sleeve and stands up, straightening her stockings.
“Well,” she asks, turning to the mirror to fix her lipstick. “Did I hurt you?”
I shove myself back in my pants and laugh scornfully. “Never.”
And it’s true. She didn’t.
She fucking killed me.
24
Penny
Mr. Thomas gives me detention for giving Noah a blowjob.
Well, he doesn’t know about the blowjob.
But it’s the second day in a week that I’ve missed a significant part of class “going to the bathroom,” and he “couldn’t let it slide.”
Really, what he can’t let slide is the fact that I refuse to play along with his creepy game when he asks me what was taking me so long in the bathroom.
I don’t know if he has a fetish for people’s bathroom habits or if he hopes I’ll admit to getting myself off in the stall or something.
But I tell him it’s inappropriate to ask people, especially students, and especially female students, questions like that.
Therefore, detention.
Just one more thing for my mom to be upset about. They’re really racking up lately.
First, my comments to Maryann.
Second, passing out in the hot yoga class, causing a scene, and nearly having the paramedics called.
Third, detention.
Be cool, not a delinquent.
That’s what she always wanted. But thanks to Noah and the Hell Princes, I’m well on my way to delinquent territory.
Sex in a public place is definitely a misdemeanor charge, right?
The memory of what we did—what I did—comes back to me. I bury my face in my folded arms on top of my desk.
Why did I do that?
I mean, I know why. I wanted to.
But why did I want to?
Noah gave me every out, every opportunity to walk away, but I stayed.
So, stop me, he’d said.
I can’t. Because I want to hurt you, too.
In my mind, I was saying it because of the Hell Princes.
Because Tank wants me to lure Noah to some location to be jumped, and they’ll most definitely hurt him.
But was there more to it?
I took the topless pictures and sent them to Noah because I wanted him to want me.
I wanted him to desire me the way he once had.
The idea of him looking at me with lust was better than him looking at me with hate.
And Noah nailed that one on the head: parental issues.
I need to be adored. It’s the reason I’ve spent years following my mom’s rules, manipulating people around me into practically worshipping me.
Because at least they aren’t being mean. At least they like me…
I think.
But this, a blowjob on the floor of the girl’s restroom, spoke to something different.
Something deeper.
Noah all but admitted he wants to hurt me, and I played right into his hand.
Maybe the hard truth is that I’ve been searching for the self-destruct button for years, and Noah has finally revealed it to me.
When Noah looked me in my eyes and told me he never wanted to see me again, that he hated me, I didn’t try to win him back.
For so long, he had been the only person holding me together. I knew if he roundly rejected me, I’d fall apart.
Now, he’s come back to finish the job.
I can’t help but feel like I deserve it.
“What about you, Penny?”
A hand taps me on the shoulder from behind. My eyes are fuzzy and sensitive to the light from being closed for so long, but I turn and see a girl with shaggy bangs and mussed hair looking at me.
“What about me?” I ask.
“Are you going to Spring Fling?”
There are two other girls sitting in the desks next to the girl with the bangs. I recognize one of them from an art class I took sophomore year.
The other is Andrea Nguyen. We went to elementary school together, but I haven’t spoken with her since then.
“Everybody goes, don’t they?”
“Everybody like you goes,” Andrea says with a nervous smile. “The rest of us aren’t guarantees.”
“You should go.”
Andrea’s unplucked brows raise. “Really?”
She’s a pretty girl. The kind of pretty that will only get more refined as she ages, but isn’t always appreciated in the teenage years.
“Absolutely, why not?”
Punk girl snorts. “Because of ‘The Sacrifice.’”
Andrea frowns. “I don’t know what that is.”
“I think it’s a myth.”
That’s what I heard, anyway. Every year, people spread rumors about Spring Fling, and they’ve gotten wilder every year I’ve been at Ravenlake.
The guys came back talking about all the wild sex they had, and the stories snowballed into tales of a “Sacrifice,” a senior girl who volunteered to have sex with anyone who wanted her.
“If it is a myth, it won’t be for long,” bangs girl says. “Do you know Ciarra Klemson?”
“The girl with the bar in her nose and the chest tat?”
Punk girl nods. “She is volunteering as the Sacrifice this year.”
My mouth falls open. “Willingly? She wants to do it?”
“I’d hope she wanted to,” Andrea remarks. “If she didn’t, it would be a horror story.”
“Still.” I wrinkle my nose. “It sounds like a horror story regardless. Who would want to do that? Have you seen some of the cretins who go to this school?”
“Have you seen some of the hot guys who go here, too?” Andrea asks. She shrugs apologetically when we both look at her. “I’m just saying, maybe Ciarra is thinking she’ll suffer through a few duds to get with someone like Noah.”
“Noah Boone?” Bangs girl waves a dismissive hand.
“What’s wrong with him?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“Boring white dude. So last season.” She looks at me and tips her head to the side, intrigued. “Do you disagree?”
I imagine a flashing neon sign is hanging above my head, broadcasting the dirty deed I committed less than two hours ago for all to see.
“I mean, I think he’s cute.”
Cute is a hilarious understatement. Andrea calls me out on it.
“Puppies are cute. Noah Boone is a god.”
“Keep it in your pants, Andy.” Bangs girl elbows Andrea’s arm, who covers her face with both hands.
“If either of you tell anyone what I said, I’ll die.”
“He probably doesn’t even know who you are. But don’t look at me, my lips are sealed. Penny is the one with the direct line to the Golden Boys.”
I do a double take. “What? Me?”
“Me?” she mocks. “Yes, you. Out of the three of us, you’re the only one who has actually spoken to Noah Boone. Didn’t you two even hang out for a while?”
To put it mildly.
Noah and I were in love, regardless of what he may claim now, but we didn’t really tell anyone.
We kept it quiet because it wasn’t anyone else’s business.
The trouble with that, I’m realizing now, is that no one but me will ever know or remember the whole story.
It will almost be like it never happened at all.
I shrug casually. “I hang out with a lot of people.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Bangs girl says in an odd tone.
I’ve been a bitch long enough to recognize the trait in someone else.
She’s making fun of me.
“You’ve been Ravenlake’s willing sacrifice for a long time now,” she finishes.
I narrow my eyes at her and slowly lift my middle finger.
When I turn around, I hear her laughing quietly behind me.
Andrea doesn’t say a word.
25<
br />
Penny
By the time I get out of detention, it’s almost five and the winter sun is already starting to set. My car is one of only a few left in the parking lot.
I’ve been too afraid to check the texts on my phone to see if my mom has been looking for me, but I probably should.
If I can text her my excuse before I get home, she might have time to calm down before she sees me.
Hopefully.
I fumble in my backpack for my phone, digging through a mess of books, papers, and loose pens before I find it. I unlock it, slide into the driver’s seat, and check my messages.
None. Not a single one.
In a way, that’s worse.
Momma either hasn’t noticed I’m late or she’s too busy dreaming up punishments to text me.
Whichever it is sucks. A lot.
I decide not to bother texting and just see what I find when I get home. It will be a surprise.
I drop my phone in the center console and am about to start my car when the passenger door suddenly opens.
Tank slides into the seat next to me.
I’m so surprised I just stare at him. He smiles, revealing a gold tooth on the right side of his mouth, and plucks my keys out of my hand.
“Good to see you again, angel.”
The deep rumble of his voice shakes me out of my stupor, and I shrink back, my hand on the door handle. “I told you to stop calling me that.”
“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” he says with an unapologetic shrug.
I clench my fists. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t bother running,” he says, pointing out the windshield towards a black truck with two men sitting in the front seat. “They’ll catch you.”
Pay attention to everything.
Not one of my mother’s rules, but one of mine. A very important one.
Whether it’s people at school or Momma or strangers, it’s important to be aware of my surroundings.
Who I’m with.
What’s expected of me.
I have to be a different person at school than I am at home or when I’m alone, so I’ve trained myself to read a room and respond accordingly.
Today, I didn’t pay attention.
I got so wrapped up in whether I’d be in trouble with my mom that I didn’t realize I was walking into much more serious trouble.
