by W. Winters
Luckily, I’m saved by his next comment.
“I like being with you for some reason.” It’s a backhanded compliment. He’s such an asshole. But such a good-looking, playful one.
“Yeah, well, you’re an asshole jock and jocks aren’t my thing,” I tell him back just as dismissively. Both of us are smiling, though. This is what I like about him.
“I’m not a jock.”
I wait for him to comment on the asshole part and when he doesn’t, I let out a small laugh.
Rolling my eyes, I wrap my arms around my chest as a gust blows my hair off my shoulder. Dean looks up and it’s as if that’s the cue for the sky to visibly darken.
“So, where do you want to go?” he asks.
“I’m not sure that’s smart.”
“It’s just a date.”
“I don’t think we should date. I don’t really do dating.” My gaze falls to his chest, moves to his shoes then continues to the ground as I feel the truth of why I even bothered to go against my gut and show up to the field today. I push the hair back from my face as the breeze picks up and wish I’d worn a thicker coat.
The sound of Dean rustling in his duffle bag gets my attention, and he pulls out a jacket then hands it out to me. “Put it on,” he tells me and it’s clearly a command. Like a good girl, I reach out for it, but then feel ridiculous and pathetic and drop my hand before I grab it.
“Dean, I’m not good for you.” I push out the words even though they hurt, even though they make me feel worse than just playing along.
“You’re cute, Allie Cat, but that ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bullshit isn’t going to work on me. I’m too used to being pushed away,” he tells me, and I watch his expression shift as he realizes what he’s said. He’s used to being pushed away. I’d just be one more asshole doing the same.
“Come on, take it,” he urges, shaking the jacket and the memory of last night forces me to take it.
I’m silent as I put it on. Fuck. Shit. Dammit. I hate this. I hate that I started this.
“So, date,” Dean says as he grips the strap with both of his hands and watches me slip on his jacket. It’s oddly warm for being so thin. “Where are we going?” he asks.
I roll my eyes and tell him, “I don’t date.”
“Just fucking then,” he says, nodding his head. “Your place or mine?” he asks with a cocky grin.
“I’m not here just so you can get in my pants,” I say, trying desperately to clear my head and figure out what the hell I’m doing.
“Then why’d you come?” he asks me.
“I told you I just wanted to give you your shirt back,” I tell him, but I can already see the spark of mischievousness in his eyes.
“I was talking about the other night, and it’s because you fucking loved it.”
I can’t help the smile that comes with his joke or the way his dirty words make me feel like it’s all okay. Belting his chest, I turn away from him. “You’re awful,” is all I can say, the smile still there. When he slides up behind me, pulling my body close to his, I relax into his heat. I hear the wind blow behind us but with my back to his chest, and my body facing the wall, not a bit of it touches my skin. Instead of a chill, I’m greeted with warmth as he gently nips my jaw and then releases me.
“You look good in my clothes,” he tells me when I turn to face him. His eyes roam freely down my body and the heat intensifies in my cheeks.
“Thanks for the jacket.” It’s only a quiet whisper but I mean it. I’m grateful for him.
Both of us are silent as we watch a few more guys leave the locker room. I cross my arms over my chest and peek up at him.
“I like you, Allison,” Dean says, taking a step forward. “I’m not going to let you get away so easily.”
My lungs still for a moment as his fingers brush along my face and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Maybe I’d like that,” I say, admitting the sentiment out loud. The moment I do, I’m certain I shouldn’t have said them.
“We’re going to fuck, but I need to eat first,” he tells me. “And you’re coming with me because you need to eat too.”
“You’re taking me out to dinner?” I ask incredulously, although I’m not blind to the fact that it makes me happy. Truly. That should bother me more than it does. All of this should bother me much more than it does.
“Just feeding you, Allie Cat. Don’t read too much into it.”
“I thought we were just fucking?” I say.
“A man’s got to eat.”
I huff a response, although the smile lingers on my lips. But only for a moment.
16
Dean
The corner diner on campus isn’t classy or fancy. The booths are covered in red vinyl that matches the stools at the narrow bar in front of the kitchen. The black and white checkered floors, vinyl records on the wall and jukebox in the far corner give it a retro feel. It’s not really what I’d consider a good date place but they make a damn good burger.
Allie takes the lead the second we walk in, heading for a booth at the back and I follow her. She’s been quiet since we left the field, and I don’t like it.
I don’t like the way she was looking at Kev even more.
A waitress carrying two baskets of fries calls out, “Be right with you,” as I take my seat in the booth Allie picked.
“You been here yet?” I ask Allie, still trying to figure out what’s going on in her pretty little head.
She lifts a brow at me as she slips the jacket off her shoulders. My jacket. “You learn quick,” she tells me, and I feel my forehead crease.
“How’s that?”
“Small talk, you do well when you lead with it.”
There’s a hum of pleasure running through me when she smiles. “I try,” I say and then glance over my shoulder as the waitress heads back to the kitchen rather than toward us.
When I look back at Allie, she’s quiet again, a contemplative look on her face.
I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of Kevin. Maybe he’s the one she really wanted.
My muscles coil at the thought and I can feel anger rising at the thought of her with him. She’s mine. That little prick isn’t good enough for her.
I pick at the napkin on the table out of habit, my mind going back to the sight of her batting her lashes at him and giving him that sweet look that belongs to me. Doesn’t she know better than that? I’ll treat her good. I have what it takes to keep her.
“So, you don’t like jocks?” I ask, preparing to bring it up. To make sure she knows her ass is mine right now. Even in kindergarten, everyone knew it—I don’t share well with others.
“Not really,” she answers me, but that playfulness in her voice is gone. She squirms in her seat like she’s uncomfortable.
“They’re just not your type?” I ask with my eyes narrowing, each second bringing me closer to the place I was when I came out of the locker room and saw her with him.
She meets my gaze head-on. “I’ve fucked a lot of them, but I guess I just prefer other types of guys.”
“You like being thought of like that, don’t you?”
“Like what?” she says, egging me on.
“Like a slut,” I say, not missing a beat.
“I like it when people call me that to my face. I like them to know it doesn’t bother me. I fucking own it.” Her breathing picks up, her body tensing. Like she’s ready for a fight and to defend her position. I don’t want a fight, though. I fucking love how she knows what she wants.
“Then what type do you like? Since you’re so good at owning it.”
“I have lots of types, I guess.”
“But no one type in particular?” I ask her. “Not like, I don’t know, my height, my eye color?” She barely looks at me and then I add, “Tall, dark, and handsome?” I expect her to laugh or give me something back. But I get nothing.
Something happened between the time I walked into the locker and the time I came
out. I’m damn sure of it because I’ve never seen her like this.
She presses her lips together in a thin line and looks past me when a loud bang and clatter comes from the kitchen. The couple at the other end of the restaurant is looking too.
It’s only when I look back to the piece of napkin in my hands that I realize it’s shredded.
“No. No type in particular,” Allie says flatly.
“You’re being moody as fuck.”
“I’m just moody in general,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Those beautiful eyes are narrowed at me and I know she’s warring with something, but I don’t know what. I just want her to tell me.
“Give me something.” The words may come out as a command but I’m fucking begging. I’m practically on my knees wanting this girl to trust me.
“Something?” That resolute look in her eyes flickers, like she didn’t expect that. Like she didn’t expect me.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” I start to say but before I can finish, she’s already shaking her head.
“I didn’t ask for this,” she bites back.
“Then leave,” I tell her because I’m irritated. Because the fact that she’s giving me attitude and pushing me away is doing nothing but pissing me off.
It takes all of half a second for her to stand up, leaving my jacket where it is, and make a beeline for the back exit.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I call after her.
“A lot,” she answers, and I should let her walk away. I should watch her do it and order myself something to eat. Forget about her.
I’m sure there’s a lot of shit I should do, but logic and reasoning aren’t really my strong suit.
And I fucking want her.
More than anything else right now. I. Want. Her.
I shove the table away as I stand, and it squeaks across the floor. “Allison,” I call after her as the door shuts, but she doesn’t look back.
I’m quick. Quicker than her as I round the back exit to the deserted parking lot.
My hand slams on the brick wall as I catch up to her, boxing her in and stopping her in her tracks.
“You’re in my way,” she says through gritted teeth.
“I don’t like games.”
“I told you, Dean,” she says sarcastically, although her expression is riddled with pain. “It’s always a game.”
“What’s going on with you? You’re making me crazy with this shit.”
“You think I don’t care about myself, huh? That I don’t have any self-worth?”
“Where the fuck is that coming from?”
“From you asking me if I’m a slut.”
“That’s not what I said, I said you like being thought of like that. There’s a difference.”
Her expression softens slightly but she continues this bullshit. “It’s the same for you.”
“It’s not. And I didn’t say shit about your self-worth.” I mock the way she said it and feel like an ass, but it pisses me off she’d even say that. “I only want you because you are worth it. How can you not see that?”
She flinches at my question.
“Just let me go,” she whispers and pushes at my arm, but I hold firm.
“No, you’re not leaving like this.” I’ve never met someone like her. She needs someone. It’s so fucking obvious.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” she says but even as she does, I can see her fight is gone.
We’re in the back lot, with dumpsters right behind us and there are only two cars back here. We have plenty of privacy and at the realization, I step even closer to her. Upping the ante.
“You’re not leaving like this. Not until you give me an explanation.”
“Fuck you,” she tells me.
“That’s right, Allie Cat, that’s exactly what you’re about to do. You’re finally getting fucked against the wall like the dirty whore you are.”
“I already crossed that off my wish list.”
“Not with me and not like this. And it’s not your wish list, Allison, it’s your to-do list.”
“You’re such a cocky bastard. You think because you tell me to fuck you, I will.”
“No, it’s because you want to. It’s because you love it when my dick’s deep inside of you. And I may be cocky, but you’re the one who’s pushy. You want control, you want to pull me this way and that and the moment I follow, you want to push me away. Not. Fucking. Happening.”
“You think you’re so good, don’t you?” she taunts me.
“Tell me I’m not, and I’ll leave.”
My heart’s a fucking battering ram, trying to crash out of my chest, but she doesn’t answer me. She bites tongue for once.
I know one thing about Allie. She’ll stay with me if I’m loving on her. I can do that. I can keep her coming back.
“Now, getting back to your to-do list. You’re going to take my cock into your tight cunt that’s already wet for me. Then you’re going back inside and you’re going to sit down next to me while my cum leaks out of your cunt like the dirty girl you are.”
“Just because I liked it once, doesn’t mean I’ll like it again,” she tells me and shoves against my chest. The look on her face tells me everything I need to know.
She wants to hurt me. To push me away. I won’t let it happen. I can’t.
“I let a lot of people push me out of their lives. None of them wanted me. But you do. I know you do,” I tell her, and I’m shocked by the admission. The look on her face shows she’s surprised too.
“What are you doing to me?” I ask her although there’s no way in hell she could answer.
The air changes in an instant and I feel weak. Like I’ve lost her, all because I can’t control my mouth.
I pull my arm away, my palm stinging from being against the hard brick for so long. What the fuck is she doing to me?
“Can I tell you something, Dean?” she says and lowers her voice, her features softening. Half of me expects her to kiss me, the other half thinks she’s going to slam her head into my nose. I never know what to expect from her.
“Tell me whatever you want, Allie.”
“You scare me.”
“I don’t mean to,” I tell her apologetically. My face falls. “Fuck, that’s the last thing I want.”
“No, no, not like that,” she’s quick to respond and this time she actually comes to me.
“Like what, then? I can fix it.” Damn, I sound like a little bitch. Even hearing it in my own voice, I don’t care. Because she cups my jaw and leans in to say, “I feel like I’m safe when I’m with you, and that scares the fuck out of me.” Her whisper gently caresses my jaw and a chill runs down my neck.
“Let’s pretend that’s a good thing,” I tell her, and she gives me a sad smile.
“I don’t do well with pretending.”
“I don’t believe that for a second. I bet you have lots of fantasies.”
“That’s not the same.”
“Yeah it is,” I say and cup her cheek in my hand. I press a kiss to her forehead and whisper, “I bet you’d like to pretend with me.”
Her body shivers beneath me. A shiver that makes me feel like I’ve won.
“I like the idea of you …” she trails off, closes her eyes and whispers, “pushing me against the wall.” When she opens her eyes, it looks like she’s not breathing. Her green eyes stare back at me with an unspoken question. Asking if I understand what she’s saying.
“And then what?” I ask her as my mouth goes dry. The need to taste her, to shove her back and take from her is riding me hard. I have her right now, but I need to give her every reason to stay. My hands clench into fists at my side and my body goes rigid. One piece of my anatomy is noticeably harder than the rest.
“I’d like it,” she barely speaks the words before visibly swallowing. “I’d like it if you were rough. If you …” she trails off while her gaze falls away from mine and she takes an unsteady breath.
/> “You want me to fuck you like I own you. Like your cunt belongs to me and I’ll take what I want from you?” I ask her and finally trust myself enough to take her small hand in mine. My touch is gentle as I rub the rough pad of my thumb along her knuckles.
“Yes,” she answers me quickly and I take a half step back, so I can look her in the eyes, searching them and trying to decide if she knows what she’s asking for.
“If I did what I wanted to you,” I start to say and then want to take it back. I can already see this going the wrong way. Back to her leaving me.
“What?” she asks.
I look at the empty parking lot and then back at her. Give and take. I gave some; I can take it now.
“What if I punished you?” I suggest as I run the back of my pointer finger down the side of her face. “For flirting with another man.” I almost say one of my friends. Kevin. I almost single him out. But I have a feeling Allie likes to flirt a lot. And with whomever the fuck she wants.
I’d admire that if her ass wasn’t already claimed by me.
She glares at me.
It’s full of defiance and even a touch of hate. I can’t take her hate. That’s not what I want from her.
I almost take it back. I’m so close to apologizing but then she opens that mouth of hers.
“I can do what I want,” she finally says. Her eyes dare me to contradict her.
“You already told me you wanted me, and that comes with a price,” I tell her. “You know better than that, Allie.”
“If I want attention, I’m going to get it,” she speaks softly, staring past my shoulder and out across the parking lot. I can give that to her. Anything she needs, I can give to her.
“You just need to be fucked, don’t you? You’d fall on anyone’s dick to please this greedy little cunt.”
Her lips part, but she hesitates.
“Fuck you,” she finally says but it’s half-hearted and she’s breathing heavier. And that’s just what I need. A sign that she still wants me. Or at least will give me a chance.
“That’s exactly what I want,” I tell her and she scoffs, but doesn’t break the heated gaze between us.
I take a step forward and she takes one back, but it’s shorter than mine, stopped by the hard brick wall behind her.
