“Okay that easy, huh?”
I nod once. “That easy.”
“Leave,” he commands, and I start to shuffle to the end of the bed.
When my feet hit the floor I stand and look for my clothes.
“You’re really goin’?” he asks quietly, still not wanting to wake up his parents. “Just like that. No fight?”
“It’s your bed, Kane. I’m not a total dick. You want your space I’m going to give it to you.”
“I’m not about to let you leave at this time.”
I snort. “I fuckin’ came here at this time. What’s the difference?”
“Just get back in bed,” he snaps, swinging his legs over the side and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. The moonlight shines a blue sheen on the contours of his bare arms and back. He’s so toned and lithe. I bet it’s from all the work he does at his daddy’s garage.
“Not unless you admit that you like it when I sleep with you.”
This time he snorts so I start to slip my shoe on. I’m being stubborn and likely stupid but I can’t help myself. Winding up Kane Jessop gives my life the kind of spice it didn’t have before. Because these days I can honestly say I give as good as I get, if not worse.
I hear his footsteps approach and stifle a yell when he grabs me around the middle and tosses me onto the bed as though I weigh nothing. I bounce once and wince as my brain hits the forefront of my skull.
“Stop being an idiot,” he hisses, nodding for me to move up the mattress.
I do so, because I’m too tired to keep up this game, and the moment my head hits the pillow I roll away from him and yawn into my hand.
When he rolls in my direction, just to piss him off even more I hiss, “Don’t touch me.”
He stops and I feel his glare pierce the back of my head. I just know he’s pulling all kinds of faces at me right now. Still, he doesn’t argue because that would mean admitting that he likes spooning me, which he often does when I stay. I will never admit that I actually quite like it too.
I still wake up sprawled across his chest at five when his alarm goes off, with his boner under my thigh and his arms holding me tight as they always do. Damn it. I swore to myself before I fell asleep that I wouldn’t let this happen again.
He groans, a noise he often makes and presses his hips upwards, something he sometimes does.
I reach over him and hit the alarm on his nightstand and his hand travels down my body, gripping my hip to hold me in place. Something he has never done before.
I freeze when his hard length rubs against my most sensitive, untouched place. It sends a zap of pleasure up my spine and back down again.
He rocks his hips, pushing against me and I become extremely aware of the fact only his boxers and my thin panties separate us. He’s still asleep, I can tell by the way he mumbles, but he rolls me onto my back and buries his face in my neck which is another experience entirely.
I grip his solid biceps and hold tight, unsure on whether or not I want him to stop. This feels so weird and so good.
I feel myself get wet between my thighs as he keeps rocking and I bite my lip to stop myself from crying out when his lips touch my neck. His tongue tastes the space his lips tease and a whimper escapes me. I can’t hold it back and I know he wakes because his body becomes dry cement.
“Not dreaming,” he murmurs.
“Nope,” I confirm and he lifts his head.
A deviant smile takes over his handsome features. “Thought you never would, not even if I was the last man alive?”
And just like that I’m not horny anymore. “Get the fuck off me.”
He laughs quietly and drops his body onto mine. “Show me your panties, Immy.”
“You’re such a dick.”
Leaning into my ear, he bites the lobe and whispers, “Show me your pussy, Immy.”
I don’t know why but his words and the way he says them has my sex clenching with need. I hold his eyes when he lifts his head and know that he has sensed the change because his pupils expand larger than they were and his lips part.
“We’re both gonna regret this,” he utters so quietly I can hardly hear him.
His lips hit mine, desperate and greedy and I return it. Angry that he’s made me feel this way. Angry that he’s made me feel so much desire for him when I despise him like I do. His teeth lock onto my lower lip as our bodies move together. Our groins meet, his cock against the delicate folds that are swollen and wanting.
I grip his hair, meeting his kiss with equal fervor, trying to show him how fucking mad I am that he’s doing this to me.
“God I fucking hate you,” I whisper between kissing before his tongue dives into my mouth. Likely to shut me up. It works.
Holy crap.
I buck my hips up, needing more, needing him to hit the right spot but the right spot is too deep inside of me.
He reaches between us, still kissing me furiously and adjusts himself in his boxers but the back of his hand hits my clit and sends a zap of pleasure through me. Even more so than before.
He freezes and looks at me with wide eyes. “Jesus, Immy… you’re so wet.”
I grab his hair and pull his lips back to mine while fumbling with my panties and trying to push them down.
He does the same with his boxers. Awkwardly getting them low enough to kick them off entirely. Then he grabs the bottom of my shirt and pushes it over my breasts, sucking my nipple into his mouth before I get the chance to protest. Not that I would, but still, I didn’t have time.
The feeling sends me wild, it’s a mixture of pleasure and pain and the fear that he might bite or suck too hard.
“Do it,” I beg when he lines himself up. I feel the head of him part a place that has never been touched before. I wince. This is it. This is happening. It’s not something I’ve obsessed about but there’s no going back once we’ve started. “Do it. Just do it.”
“Fuck, Immy…” He looks so pained as he slips out of place but quickly puts himself in the right spot.
This isn’t loving, or tender, or gentle.
“I should be kind and tell you I’m not about to be your first but I’m not a nice guy. I’m gonna fuck you, Immy. I’m gonna make you come, and I’m never gonna let you forget it.” He covers my mouth with his hand and thrusts forward so fast I feel my virginity tear. I release a pained moan that he swallows as he rocks twice, ensuring that he’s in as far as he can get.
He’s so big, which I already knew but this is insane. I feel so sore and stretched yet the way he’s kissing me and the way his body is on mine, lights a fire deep inside.
“I’m not even sorry,” he breathes in my ear, slamming home again. “You’re a fucking bitch, Immy.” His hand tangles in my hair and exposes my throat which he kisses and bites making me sob with pleasure and pain but I like it. I like every second of it. “You’re a bitch and I never want to stop fucking you.”
I moan, long and unsteady as he pins my hands above my head and presses our foreheads together.
“Stop making noises like that,” he growls, biting my ear. He gets faster, thrusting harder, reaching out and throwing his alarm away when it starts to blare. Our combined sweat glistens on our bodies and the blanket slides away. “Stop making noises like that, you’re killing me.”
“Shame,” I pant, looking him directly in the eyes. “Because I’m not even nearly there yet and if you come before I do I’ll never let you live it down.”
He stops and stares at me right before a wicked smirk lights up his face. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“Whatever makes me orgasm.”
“Drop your legs,” he commands. “Make them straight.”
I do so and he adjusts his position so my legs are closed and his thighs are straddling mine. He’s still buried inside of me but now the base of his cock is pressing directly on my pulsing clit.
My lips form an O when he rocks against me and I think I might get there way before he does.
“C
hallenge accepted,” he breathes against my lips and kisses me again.
He rocks just as hard as before but slower now so I really feel every drag and every millimeter of friction against that sensitive bundle of nerves.
I hum, enjoying this way more than I want to let on and he kisses up and down the side of my neck. His hand wanders, exploring my body, massaging me as he thrusts. It feels insane. It’s an entire range of feelings all at once.
I spiral so suddenly I don’t feel it coming until my inside is literally twisting itself and exploding outwards.
“Oh God, oh God, oh… God,” I groan, arching my back and digging my nails into his shoulders as the orgasm I never thought I’d have, attacks every inch of me. I’ve never felt anything like it.
Chuckling, he spreads my legs, hikes my thigh over his arm and powers into me, fucking me just like he promised. There’s no pain at all anymore, just tingling pleasure as my orgasm carries on at a lower level.
I’m covered in sweat and so is he but it doesn’t deter either of us from tasting the other’s skin. He tastes even better than he looks. I can’t get enough. I hold his body tight against mine as I do to him with my mouth what he’s been doing to me and feel him unravel. He buries his face in the crook of my neck and grips my ass with his hands between my body and the mattress. Every thrust is a powerful, frantic drive as he swells and spills himself inside of me.
He yells so loud I have to bring his face back to my neck and finally, he thrusts once, then twice, jerks with a gasp, and drops onto me like a dead weight.
“Wow,” I whisper, wishing I’d had sex sooner because I have been missing out.
I look at the broken alarm on the ground and squeal at the time.
“Get the fuck off me,” I hiss, shoving him to the side.
He laughs, unperturbed, and watches me look for my panties. “You might want to shower first. You’re covered in your virgin blood.”
I glare at the mess on and around the apex of my thighs and scowl when I see him smirking with so much pride.
“If you tell anybody about this, I will kill you in your sleep,” I hiss, pointing directly at him like an angry parent.
His grin stretches into a beaming smile. “Something tells me we won’t be doing much sleeping from now on.”
At that I laugh sardonically. “If you honestly think I’ll be doing this with you again, you’re deluded. You were okay but we both know I can do better.”
His face darkens. “You’re such a bitch.”
“You made me that way.”
“You’ll want more. They always do.”
“You’re so gross.”
He reaches into his nightstand, pulls out a cigarette and moves to the window to light it. “Be quick in the shower, I need to get your scent off my skin.”
“Since I’m the one rejecting you, that doesn’t hurt at all.” I pull a fresh towel out of the closet and look at him over my shoulder. “Thanks for warming me up… you know… for Marshall.”
I see his sneer before I turn and head towards the bathroom where I have the hottest shower of my life.
I managed to return to Mee-maw’s before she wakes up, and I get thirty minutes in bed before I have to get ready for school. I have my own clothes now, but I buy them myself and launder them myself. Mee-maw doesn’t approve of what I wear but ever since Grandpa’s death almost a year ago she leaves me alone when she’s not taking out her rage on me. I don’t go out of my way to hurt her but I do my own thing now within reason, without getting into any trouble.
She hardly speaks to me at all anymore. It’s sad because in between the beatings we had a great relationship but now she just wants to control everything I do. Her lashing out at me is more frequent despite the fact I don’t actually do anything wrong. My grades are good, I don’t dabble with drugs, I drink very rarely and don’t get drunk when I do, I work at Ice-Queen, a new ice-cream parlor in town, I buy my own clothes, snacks, school equipment, and I go to church on Sundays.
What more does she want from me?
Though since I made friends with Marshall she’s been a lot nicer to me. She says he’s a nice boy from a nice family.
I agree.
He’s sweet, funny, so adorable and good-looking and he has this stupid laugh that I love.
We’ve been hanging out lately, he walks me home from school and last night he met me at the patch for drinks. Not too many, but enough.
And then this morning I fucking had sex with Kane in his bed which I don’t exactly regret because it was so good, but I do wish it wasn’t with him because he’s going to hold it over me forever. Either that or he’ll just expect sex all the time now.
The thought makes me tingle down below.
I startle when Marshall meets me at the end of my drive in his truck. His daddy owns a vineyard just out of town, so they aren’t hard up for cash. It should intimidate me but I never thought about it until now.
“This is surprising,” I say, eyes widening as I approach.
He winks at me, all tall with large shoulders slightly slumped forward due to his height. Another thing I adore about him, he has no arrogance whatsoever, so he doesn’t have a swagger kind of walk, like Kane for example. He’s popular without taking advantage and he’s gorgeous without arrogance. “I wanted to surprise you so I’m glad it had that effect.”
Laughing, I take his hand and climb into the passenger side.
I am so sore between my thighs. God, I ache. When I sit down I wince but he thankfully doesn’t notice.
“Wait!” Mee-maw calls, rushing after us in her slippers and gown which is tied tightly over a neck to ankle nightgown.
“Everything okay, Mrs. Hardy?” Marshall asks and she hands him a bag.
“I made you both some lunch.”
I look between the two of them, wondering when they conspired behind my back, but Marshall looks as perplexed as I do.
“Your momma gave me a call, said you might drop by this mornin’,” she explains and smiles at me in a way she hasn’t in so long. “Both of you have a good day at school.”
Marshall walks around the car after thanking her, climbs in and places the bag between us.
“Throw it away, I think it’s poisoned,” I jest and he grins a toothy slightly lopsided smile.
“Mee-maw makes the best food in this county, I ain’t tossin’ nothin’.”
“That she does,” I agree, looking into the bag. “You know she’s done this so we have to eat lunch together.”
His smile broadens. “Well I’m glad she thought ahead. That’s if you don’t mind me joinin’ you, Imogen Hardy?”
I lift a shoulder, feeling giddy. “Not at all.”
26 years old
I hold the pink coffee cup in my hands and turn it slowly. Felicia has been looking to me to answer her question for some time but I don’t know how. What would I even say? How do I explain any of it? They wouldn’t understand. They’d hate me.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” I sip my coffee and hold her gaze. “What is it you think you know?”
“We don’t know shit, kid,” West admits. “You were in the wind. Completely fucking gone. The only reason we knew you were alive is because your mee-maw kept sayin’ it but the Sherriff’s office confirmed it. Never seen Kane so relieved when he got that call”
“Until they said you didn’t want to speak to him and to stop lookin’.” Felicia’s tone is devasted and I feel it right there with her. “He still didn’t stop though.”
“Sure didn’t,” West utters, staring me down with a curious expression.
“We just don’t understand,” Felicia whispers, looking hurt. “We were all so worried about you.”
West looks at me intently, his eyes imploring me to be honest with him. “Did my son do something to hurt you?”
I open and close my mouth.
“Did he?” Felicia asks. “You can tell us. We know you guys had a different sort of relationship.”
She can s
ay that again.
“Unhealthy,” West puts in, frowning. “Abusive, perhaps.”
“What Kane and I had is in the past.”
“Does he know that?” West snaps, looking frustrated. He slams his hand down on the table. “Because he waited for you, he looked for you, he called the cops every day to find you. So if he wasn’t abusive and you guys were okay, then why?”
Fuck. Kane wasn’t lying. I had thought he’d moved on. But I knew he wasn’t lying when he said that to me. This confirmation just makes everything harder to accept.
“Because she was fucking Marshall,” Kane announces as he walks into the room. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. He leans against the archway that separates the kitchen from the dining room. “Ain’t that right, Imogen?”
His blue eyes blaze with the same fury he exhibited earlier and all eyes, including his, pierce through me.
“And instead of telling me about it, she ran.”
My heart hammers in my throat and my eyes burn as West and Felicia look at me with the utmost betrayal.
“Is that true?” Felicia whispers.
“You let all of us think the worst because you wanted to be with another guy?” West looks as though he can’t believe it.
I look at my cup and then stand. “I should go.”
“This time stay gone,” Kane orders, looking as bitter as he sounds. My heart shatters as he looks at me as he did earlier, in a way he never has or did. I mean I thought he hated me when we were kids, but that was nothing compared to how much he loathes me now.
“She was just a kid guys,” Felicia defends. “Come on.”
I don’t wait to hear what they say, it’s right that they stay mad at me. It’s better this way. I have a life to get back to.
16 years old
Kane has been staring at me ever since I sat down alone with Marshall, much to the envy of almost every girl here. Sitting with Marshall I mean. I don’t have a fucking clue why Kane is staring at me like he is. Though both could strike me with the envy of their admirers, they both have plenty between them.
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