by Grace, Hazel
There are so many things I want to do to this girl. Feeling her softness now against my rough hands from practicing without batting gloves gives me so many ideas. I want to punish her mentally and physically.
Because after this, we’ll be done.
I’ll be done.
Gavin can hate me for weeks, but we both know it would’ve always ended up with him fucking another piece of pussy eventually.
I slam her back into one of the lockers. “You see, I’m getting really fucking tired of you throwing that word in my face. How much more do you need in order to understand I’m not fucking around?”
She nods toward the front doors of the school. “Checkmate.”
“You think ratting me out is going to do, what? I’m eighteen, a fucking adult. You lose.”
“And you lost a piece of ass,” she snaps with furrowed brows.
My lips tug. “Aw, baby, you’re wrong.” I lean closer, my lips hovering over hers.
I can feel her breathing hitch, her body starts to finally cower back in response. Every one of my muscles tense at her closeness, wanting to smother her against the metal of the lockers with my body. It only fuels something in me that I’ve been trying to extinguish.
My lust for her.
My lips loom over the tan skin of her neck, beckoning me to press my lips to it. And I do. My tongue immediately tastes her sweet flesh, causing a soft gasp to escape from her mouth. I love the sound of it, the shock and the fucking want that she tries to hide from me. I can see it glaze in her eyes before they fill with resentment.
I press my lips more firmly against the piece of her anatomy that I’ve wanted to ravish for weeks. Underneath me, I feel her body start to yield, relaxing toward me. And I have to fight back my own need for this female. Because if I don’t, we’re going to be finding another empty classroom for me to act out every fantasy I’ve had of her.
I press my hard cock against her stomach, letting her know how serious and true every one of my words are. And since my words aren’t sinking into her pretty little head, maybe my body will.
A soft gasp escapes Sawyer’s lips, igniting my mouth to press a hard kiss to the crook of her neck. Her fingers grasp to my forearms, squeezing my flesh in silent need — for more.
And I’m going to give it to her. She’s a mild compulsion that I need to have cured. But there is one thing standing in my way of the perfect mirage of her beneath and full of me.
I want Sawyer Boyd to want me.
“I didn’t lose the piece of ass I wanted, Bases,” I whisper honestly, parallel to her rapid pulse. “Because I just gained it, what I wanted. Yours.”
Colson and Sawyer have been a story I’ve had for over a year. They are a lot of me and my high school years which seem like so long ago. For everyone who got to this point, thank you for reading and giving my babies a chance. I promise Strike (Book#2) will make you fall in love again with them.
To my boys and my other half, thank you for all your support. I love you so much. You’re my world, my heart and my hustle.
To my betas/alphas and Dom- I couldn’t of done this without all of you. Some of you read it multiple times with no guff about it. <3 Thank you for loving Colson and Sawyer as much as I do.
To my Bae - for everything. For my covers, our over the top WhatsApp messages, our hours of phone calls and your support. I’m blessed and so lucky to have you by my side.
To my readers, new and old, if it wasn’t for you, this wouldn’t be possible. If you’ve read me before, thank you so much for sticking with me and believing in me. To my new readers, thanks for the chance to enter your world for a bit.
xoxo,
Hazel
P.S. Keep flipping through to read the first chapter of book one of Disorderly: A Deceived Duet (Book #1)
They say if you’re born on the wrong side of the tracks, you're destined for trouble.
I call bullshit on that statement.
If you’re born with shitty parents, you’re destined to be fucked until you’re old enough to solve the problem or rid it yourself. I liked options, so I did both.
Staring down at my father’s lifeless body floating in the bathtub, I feel no remorse for what I’ve just done. It’s been a long time coming, especially after Mom died. For years, I watched him transform into a demon, possessed and heinous by liquor and drugs, and now it was over. No more cracked ribs from him beating the shit out of me. No more screams from Levin and Isla, my younger brother and sister, when he fondled and molested them.
I’ve just eliminated the fear that constantly coursed through my sibling’s veins.
A child should never fear the night in their own home. But we did, every single fucking time dusk fell, piling bookshelves and anything heavy we had in front of our bedroom door to keep the monster out from one of his bad highs or drunk binges. He made home a living and breathing hell, one we were too young to escape from. Many times, I awoke to Levin or Isla screaming in the darkness. Somehow, he’d find a way to break into their rooms, so I stopped sleeping, waiting to hear loud footsteps shuffling through the hall or the signal that he was home when he tripped and knocked something over
After a while, we all slept in my room to make me feel more at ease. But the lack of sleep made it hard to focus on school; my grades started to slip and the stress led me to fighting at school. The pressure to graduate and get my brother and sister out of our home sucked the life out of me.
But plans alter, and after Levin received a hard-enough blow to the head where he landed in the hospital for two days—and Andrew took a lighter to Isla’s stomach—his time on this earth ended. So, like a predator waiting for his prey, I waited for Andrew to transform into his daily vulnerable state. Because if I didn’t end this, one of us would be killed and not a soul would notice. We had no family that I knew of, no real friends to stay with, and the teachers were so worthless, it'd be days before they’d spot one of us gone. And by that time, we’d be buried in a shallow grave in the woods somewhere.
Sirens suddenly ring out in the distance through the early morning air. They’re coming for me; I told Isla to call. I want to do this right, be an honest citizen. Mama taught me that good deeds brought good karma. I consider this a good deed for my siblings and society as a whole. Who knew what else he was doing outside our home’s walls.
Isla’s screams and cries amplify when the cops handcuff me. I shout to her that I’ll be home soon, that this is just a mandatory thing as I’m shoved into the back of the patrol car. Before the car door slams in my face, I bellow for Levin to make sure they go to school tomorrow, assuring them again I wouldn’t be gone long.
But I was wrong. So fucking wrong, it was stupid.
I was naive as shit, thinking the cops would listen. That they’d hear my stories about how Andrew was so morbid and violent, and they’d understand. But no one listened. No one cared. Not one cop wanted to hear how he beat me and my siblings, that I found Andrew about to rape my eleven-year-old sister the night before, or that Levin just got out of the hospital two weeks ago from being beat in the head with multiple liquor bottles.
The jury announced a guilty verdict.
The system was fucked.
And so was I.
