I want to touch myself. I want to feel his fingers playing with my clit again, building the pressure there until the tingles overtake my core. I use my hands to wrap around his cock, and he places his hand on my scalp, pushing softly as I suck and bob. My body trembles with desire, and I can’t even think of the reason we’re doing this. All of my worries melt away.
Suddenly, Wyatt pulls me up and maneuvers me so that I’m able to ride him. I gasp as his cock finds my entrance, and I slam myself down atop him.
“God damn…”
I moan, mirroring his same feeling. We kiss tenderly and I try to lift up and down on him, burying his cock inside me. It’s difficult to find a rhythm, and I blush, hoping that he’s not underwhelmed. We allow our foreheads to rest against one another and he uses his hands to guide me. Instead of me hopping up and down on him continuously, he helps me to move my hips in sexual waves, and it's like a dance. Me working my pussy in passionate rolls, taking him in fully, drawing up slightly, rolling down on him, moving forward, back, sliding purposefully against his hard length.
“You’re mine,” he says, and he tears the t-shirt over my head and begins to suckle my breasts, taking my tight nipples into his lips and flicking his tongue over them.
I’m his. I would smile, but I feel my orgasm building. My clit rubs against his pelvis and I gasp, holding my breath.
“Say it,” he demands as he worships my breasts, leaving wet trails between them, humping up into me as I ride him faster. Harder.
“I’m yours,” I say, barely able to speak.
He continues to guide me and this time, he begins to slam me down harder. I can hardly hold back a scream as my orgasm begins, starting low in my pussy, and with each hard slap of the connection, it expands out into my folds, deep in my vagina, and then with one hard smash of my flesh against his, my clit explodes with blinding pleasure. My stomach and legs shake and he holds me close as I lay a hand over my mouth and scream into my palm.
Wyatt’s moan is so fucking hot. He pulses up into me and I can tell that he’s also felt the delicious intensity of our connection.
“Oh...Savannah…” he utters raggedly. “I love…”
He stops, and I kiss him. Was he going to say that he loves me? My mind cannot handle this much goodness. It doesn’t matter if he says it, I know what we’re both feeling. And love? Love is indubitably blurred amongst the shades of what we are.
***
“I found messages between Krista and Charles long before I’d cheated,” he explains as we lay in the bed facing one another. “I tried to make it work for Derrick. I ignored it. I didn’t even try to confront her. But resentment built up. I couldn’t hide it. It affected our relationship for a long time. Then I met Lola and she helped me forget.”
I listen patiently, wrapping my fingers around his. He does not meet my gaze.
“How’d you meet her?” I ask, trying to be sensitive to his hatred for the memory.
“She was a buddy’s friend’s sister who’d had a crush on me growing up. I went to my friend’s wedding and there she was. I was bored and lonely. We sent emails and met up once, but then Krista found out,” he says, and I can tell that he’s trying to keep an even tone. “She told people what a nasty bastard I am, and I took it all. I couldn’t tell people that she was the one who’d cheated first because it didn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
Wyatt lets his fingers run through my hair and over my shoulder.
“I was doing the same thing,” he explains coolly. “Krista was in the wrong, but so was I.”
“You cared for her,” I say softly. “Krista...you loved her didn’t you?”
“Yeah, and she ruined our family.”
I am filled with sorrow for him. His sadness saturates the air, and I trail my fingers through his hair.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine now. It is what it is,” he says. “And Lola and I broke things off as soon as Krista found out about us. There was too much guilt. Lola was mad about that, but at that point I felt like I couldn’t even look at her without thinking about what my choice had done to the people that mattered most.”
How do I explain to him that he wasn’t in the wrong? I ache for him. He’s lived under the shadow of this accusation for years, carrying the guilt while it should have been Krista’s to hold. Not that his cheating is excusable, but the fact that Krista destroyed the relationship first speaks volumes. Now he’s guilty for wanting me. I think about how we’re both living lies, both of us clinging to what other people believe about us.
“You’re not a bad person,” I tell him.
“I am, Sav,” he shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have even texted you back the first time you texted me. You’re too good for me.”
Too good how? His words confuse me, because I don’t feel innately good. I don’t think anyone is intrinsically good or bad, we’re all worth exactly the same. We live our lives and do what we have to do. I stay silent, flicking my hair over my shoulder and letting my thoughts veer toward my dad. He’ll find me eventually, and when he does, I have no doubt that he’ll try to kill me. But I won’t go back. After staying with Elaina, and now Wyatt, my mind is set on staying out of my childhood home. I don’t think mom would have wanted that for me anyway. If anything, I’d think she’d approve of Wyatt compared to the rest of the destructive patterns around me.
“I’m going to rent you a house by the ocean,” he says, staring at the ceiling as if he’d just decided something.
“The ocean?” I repeat in disbelief.
“I have to go to work for a while, but I’ll be back. There’s some cash in the toolbox in the garage that you can take and buy yourself a phone and clothes with so you can go to school tomorrow. I don’t mind if you use all of it. The auto shop is a lucrative business in this town.”
I’m speechless, and my mouth hangs open stupidly. How did we go from talking about his exes to him promising me a house and other necessities?
“Wyatt…” I start, dumbstruck.
“No. You said you wouldn’t let me give you those things until I told you the story. I told it. Now it’s your turn to give me what I want,” he says in a domineering tone, and then winks. “No strings attached. If you find another place to stay, if you want to break things off, no harm done. I’m not going to cage you in like everyone else.”
“This is why I want to fuck you even when I’m in pain,” I laugh, and wrap my arms around him. His lips brush mine sweetly, and I feel like a princess. So, why does it make me feel guilty? I accept it, yet my heart sinks.
He shouldn’t have to take care of me. I’m an inconvenience to everyone, and I wish with all my heart that I didn’t need to accept.
Savannah
The plan is this. I have my new phone and clothes, and I’m going to stay with Wyatt (albeit carefully) until he rents the house by the ocean. We scroll through properties together and he reaches out to a few of them. All of them are at least a fifteen minutes drive away, which means, to my chagrin, that Wyatt is also going to lease a car for me. I flush with embarrassment at my mixed emotions. My heart glowing with both adoration and shame.
I go to school normally, ordering another cheer outfit and apologizing for my absence. I just have to make it to graduation, which is a lot easier said than done. I have homework, cheer practice, games, ASB. I contemplate getting a job at the Red Thorn Diner to pay for expenses, but I honestly don’t know how I’ll work it into my schedule.
When I went shopping, I bought a can of mace. I carry it with me everywhere in my purse just in case I run into my dad. How screwed up is it that I’m afraid of my own dad? And I do fear him. Hate and fear intermingled like a devious shroud I’m forced to wear everywhere I go. How did it go this wrong?
I text my father once and then block his number.
I’m not coming back. Consider me dead.
Friday comes around and I realize, to my horror, that tonight is the Halloween party at the old Thornwood hotel. Anxiety rolls thro
ugh me as I realize that all of my duties are slipping, and the facade I’ve carefully procured is crumbling around me. The more I try to cling to it all, the worse it gets. Because I’ve changed, and I don’t think there’s any coming back from what I’ve become.
“So, how are things at home?” Elaina asks me as we walk down the halls together.
“Uhh…” I don’t know what to say. I’m suddenly panicked, frozen like a deer in front of promptly approaching headlights.
“You know, it’s really hard to be your friend when you keep everything a secret. I thought we told each other everything. Do you not trust me at all?” she says, her eyes narrowing, but through the sharpness is hope. Hope that I’ll finally let her in.
“I wish I could tell you everything, Elaina. But it’s better that you don’t know…”
“Oh shut up with the excuses,” she says, and then gives me one of her award-winning smiles. “You’re my best friend. I’ll love you forever. Even if you are being a total jerk.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and I readjust the bag on my shoulder. For a moment I contemplate telling her everything, pulling her aside and explaining exactly where I’m staying, what my dad did, and my relationship with Wyatt. But there’s no way to do so without destroying everything. I could ruin Wyatt’s entire life, his business, and his standing in the town. We have to stay secret. And revealing my dad’s secret could endanger my own life. Both secrets are enormous and hold so much weight I think I might burst.
“You’re my best friend too. I’m so sorry, I wish…”
“Let’s talk about tonight. Do you have your costume yet?” she interjects.
“Oh, no,” I say, realizing that my vampire costume is still tucked in my drawer at home. “I’ll have to grab one before the party.”
“Okay good! Because Cecily stole mine for a party last week and I told her that I was not wearing it after she’d sweat in it all night. So now I’m in the market for a new one. We can go shopping together if you want?” Elaina cocks a brow in question.
“Yeah that sounds great,” I agree.
“And we could get ready at my house. Greta and Kaitlyn can meet us there too!” Elaina adds on, no doubt as she’s thinking it.
Spending the whole night with my friends sounds heavenly. I think back to countless parties, events, and hangout sessions where we gossip and laugh till tears escaped our eyes. Maybe this is exactly what I need to feel better. Maybe I need this so I don’t obsess over the fear of the unknown and the guilt of ruining Wyatt’s life because that’s exactly what it feels like I’m doing. People don’t know about us yet I feel like I’ve already done the damage.
“Perfect. Let’s go.”
I send a swift text to Wyatt explaining the party, my friends, ASB, and how my presence there is important. I’m sure he won’t mind.
Have fun. Be good. Is all he says. A tug of excitement shoots through my sex. What is it about that man that completely unravels me?
***
“Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang!” We sing at the top of our lungs in the Uber, swaying back and forth in the seats as the driver blasts the Soho Dolls.
My head is blissfully muddled from the effects of the shots we’d stolen from Elaina’s dad’s bar. Kaitlyn smuggled a flask in her purse for the party, and Greta had somehow gathered four mini wine bottles that we’d downed just before the Uber had arrived.
Greta is dressed as a goddess, which fits her. She’s very much the tame one out of all of us. Kaitlyn is Harley Quinn, her brown hair swaying in cheaply colored pigtails, her outfit undoubtedly breaking dress code. But it’s fucking Halloween. On Halloween, anything goes. Elaina is a sexy cowgirl with a crop top, mini cow-vest, hat, and tiny shorts. And I’m a witch with a dangerously short, frilly black dress and pointy hat. We look hot as hell and feel it too.
Our knees bump—our arms sliding against body parts as we dance and vibe. The edges of reality are muffled nicely. The music blaring and filling up the hazy spaces, and I smile. Really smile. Because life suddenly doesn’t seem that bad. Maybe now I can truly start living life instead of living in the glass box I’ve been in for so long.
When we clumsily make our way into the hotel we say hello to the chaperones in our best non-drunk voices, giggle hysterically, and run deeper into the hotel where there’s dancing, Halloween lights, and a smoke machine fogging the air. Elaina keeps hold of my hand and draws me into the dancing masses. Our fingers lace and we dance together, swaying to the beat of a current pop hit.
The old Thornwood hotel wafts with an ancient aroma, the scent filling up my nostrils, mixing with the fog and perfume of other students. Our heels clack on the marble floors that gleam under our shoes, and Elaina has a perma-smile on her face that I get flashes of as I spin around. Above us, gold-accented chandeliers are splattered with fake webs and are lowly lit, adding to the spooky feel of it all. I’m impressed by what the ASB team and volunteers have done with the place. I wish I’d been around to help.
Greta and Kaitlyn have gone off to flirt with their crushes, and I can’t blame them. Why wouldn’t they? Any normal girl would have boys they’re excited to see at a party. Any normal Highschool student. Is it a pity that I’m not normal? Part of me wishes that Wyatt could be here with me.
As we dance, me and Elaina break off and then join again, giggling at everything. We twirl, spin, and I fall. Elaina grabs hold of me, catching me before I meet the floor.
“Oh shit!” I laugh.
“Okay, maybe we should check out the haunted house so that Mr. Pratt stops staring at us,” Elaina says, and pulls me along. We head up the massive red-carpeted staircase and get onto the elevator. Elaina’s fingers tease along my shoulder strap mindlessly and when we finally reach the penthouse, we stagger out and drink in the sight of the entrance to the maze that we built. I’d come up a few weeks ago before things had gotten bad with my dad to help plan it all, and seeing it in action is very satisfying.
Unfortunately, Olivia is standing at the front admitting people and Derrick is standing right next to her with a self-assured smirk on his face. He’s flirting with her, and suddenly I think, maybe it was Olivia who he was seeing in the early mornings before school.
Elaina makes a disgusted, close-to-vomiting expression and pulls me past them. I can see Derrick physically twist as we pass, revolving toward me with desperation written on his face.
“Savannah!” he calls after me, but Elaina pulls me forward. But I don’t need her persistence to remain firmly on task.
I draw my purse close as we stagger through the maze of jump scares, zombies, creepy clowns, and demonic nuns making us scream and then laugh. Everything is dark, and strobe lights pulse ahead. Music vibrates through us, fake screams slicing the air. I see flashes of Elaina’s smile and hair, and we cling to each other as we giggle our way through the haunted house.
But then, someone grabs my wrist and I’m yanked backward into the shadows. Elaina looks around for me, backtracks, and I wave and call for her but she doesn’t see or hear me. The strong hands that have grabbed me become familiar, and I fight to be free of him. My heart races, sending bubbling, adrenaline infused blood pumping through my body. Chills overtake me.
“Let me go!” I say, but he holds me in place, and I hate him for it.
“Savannah. Just listen to me, just listen!” Derrick’s voice crushes against my ears. “You can’t ignore me forever.”
Derrick has dragged me back behind the black linen walls of the maze so that we’re in nearly complete blackness. There’s no one around in this narrow makeshift hall, and I glance around frantically for Elaina.
“I can, actually. We broke up, remember?” I snap, twisting and pulling, trying to get out of his hold. He is relentless.
“Remember what we said? How we were going to be together forever? Have successful careers? We’re a perfect couple, Sav. There’s no one else on my level.”
I almost retch at his words. His unyielding hold on me is shocking and fe
ar trickles through me in fresh waves, now only slightly numbed by the alcohol.
“Let me go,” I implore, ignoring his words because they hold no weight for me. Not anymore. I know now that there’s so much more outside of him, and this town and everything people expect me to be. And I’m done with it. “Please, Derrick.”
“Come on, Savannah,” he says, and tugs me closer, his clammy lips brushing against my cheek as he hunches over me, drawing me into his embrace. “You know you can’t let this go.”
I’m frozen with horror, unable to do or say anything. The music and screams, both fake and real, pressurize my ears. It is moments like this that I wish, and want, to be stronger than I am. The chaos of the past few weeks builds like a typhoon in my head, and I shove back against him, screaming.
“Get off of me! I swear to god I will call the police if you don’t let me go!”
Derrick’s peaceable facade melts and what is left of him is dark and full of rage. He throws me back against the wall and pins me down, clawing at my skirt with one violent hand. I shriek and fight against him, his hot breath drowning me, making it hard to breathe. I try to get my hands loose to reach for something-- anything that I can hit him with, but then his palm cups my vulva over my panties. He grips it hard.
“You’re a fucking bitch, Savannah. Just wait and see. You’ll come crawling back to me on your knees,” he hisses against my lips, spittle spraying my mouth. “And you know what they say about a girl on her knees. Sounds like a worthy apology to me.”
I shudder with disgust and anger, tears streaking down my cheeks. Derrick finally lets me go, and my world spins. I fumble through my purse frantically, past the useless bottle of mace that I’d bought, past the morning-after pills, past the new birth control pills I’d received from my doctor, past the wallet still full of Wyatt’s cash, to my new phone. I hold back wayward sniffles and hiccups as I type.
I need you. Can you come get me?
Without fail, as if he’s a knight in shining armor and this isn’t a cold, dismal reality, he responds.
The Prom Queen's Sinner: Thornwood Small Town Forbidden Romance Book One Page 15