by Beck, J. L.
I bang my fist against her door, the sound echoes through the otherwise silent hallway.
“Open up, Kennedy,” I yell at the door. “Do it, or I’ll kick it down.” I continue banging, not giving a shit who I wake up. I’ll wake up the entire fucking building if I have to.
A moment later, the door opens, and Kennedy appears in front of me. Her silky blonde hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, and she squints her eyes at the bright light flooding into her apartment from the hallway. Clearly, I woke her up. Oops.
“What are you doing here?” she rasps, her voice still sleepy.
Instead of answering her, I shove past her and into her apartment without an invitation. She closes the door behind us and turns to face me, turning on a light switch beside us. At least she’s starting to understand how this works. I’m tempted to bring up whatever the fuck it was that I felt on her thighs, but I want to sink my cock into her more than I care to hear what the hell is going on with her. This is all part of convincing myself that I don’t care about her. If I don’t ask questions, then I have nothing to care about.
“Take your clothes off. I want to fuck you again.”
Her mouth falls open in shock as if she can’t believe what I just said. What did she think I showed up here for in the middle of the night?
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She can’t be serious, can she? Us fucking is always a good idea. It’s the only good thing between us. It’s either we fuck, or I’m hurting her or she’s hurting me. There are no other options.
“I didn’t ask you what you thought. I told you to take off your clothes.” Folding my arms over my chest, I scowl down at her. “Tick tock. I don’t have all night. Do it, or I do it for you.”
I watch her closely as she bites her bottom lip. Nervously, she looks around the room as if she is thinking about how to get out of this.
Oh, bug, there is no getting away.
Run, and I’ll just drag you back here screaming.
She doesn’t look scared though, maybe uncomfortable, but not scared. Her cheeks are a light shade of pink but redden when she finally says, “In my room, lights off.”
Unable to stop myself, I smirk as I give her a nod and follow her into her bedroom. The lights are off in her room, but the hallway lamp shines enough light to let me see where the bed is before she closes the door, blanketing us in darkness.
I can hear her taking her clothes off, the sound of fabric hitting the ground. I shove my shorts and boxers down in one go before tugging my shirt off over my head.
“I want you on your hands and knees. No fucking talking. I don’t want to hear a whimper or cry. I just want to fuck you. You owe me that much for making me bleed the other day.”
“Fine,” she whispers, and I listen as she moves toward the bed, climbing up onto the mattress. Walking over to the bed, I go slow in the unfamiliar room. When I reach the bed, I feel around for her and find her as I asked, on her hands and knees.
Running a hand from her shoulder and down her arched back, I only stop when I’m cupping her firm ass. She shivers under my touch but doesn’t move or say anything. Positioning myself behind her, I run both hands over her lower back and ass, enjoying how smooth her skin is. My cock is impossibly hard, and my balls ache for release.
Fuck, why do I want her so badly? I could have any girl on campus, and yet I choose the enemy.
Keeping one hand on her slender hip, I snake the other down between her legs. My fingers trace her lips, her sweet arousal coating them already. She can act like the innocent, unwilling girl all she wants, but her body doesn’t lie.
She wants this, wants me to fuck her, probably as bad as I want to.
“You’re wet, bug. So, fucking wet. You act like you don’t want this. Like you hate me, and maybe you do, but we both know you love me fucking you.” The swollen head of my cock bumps against her entrance, and I pinch her clit between my fingers. I smile at the rapid intake of air into her lungs. She grows wetter and wetter, and soon I can’t help myself.
When I’m certain she’s wet enough to take me, I line my cock up with her entrance and enter her in one swift shift of my hips.
Tight as a glove, she clamps down around me, and my eyes roll to the back of my head for a moment. Fuck me. Of all the girls I’ve fucked, no one even remotely compares to how good Kennedy feels. She shouldn’t feel this good. I know it’s a trap. Still, I’m willing to fall into it over and over again. Pulling all the way out, I slam into her again. I do this a couple of times, pulling myself out to the tip just to slam into her until my balls kiss her ass.
I can hear the humph sound leaving her lips with every stroke, but aside from that, she doesn’t say a single word. A triumphant smile lifts my lips. I want to make her scream and chant my name from the heavens while she begs me to let her come.
As hard as it is, I go slow, keeping my strokes hard and even. Sweat drips down my back, and I grit my teeth, feeling her pussy flutter around me.
“No, you don’t get to come yet,” I growl, slowing once more. I take us both on this never-ending rollercoaster of almost-there pleasure. Fucking her hard and fast before coming to a stop, just to do it all over again. Kennedy is panting, but she’s not begging yet.
Pistoning my hips faster, it doesn’t take much to get her to the edge all over again. When I feel that she’s just about to peak, I pull completely out.
“Jackson!” She sags against the mattress in defeat.
“I told you not to talk.” I smack her ass hard. She whimpers, but that whimper soon becomes a moan when I slide back into her warm channel. Her slick heat tugs me deeper and deeper, and soon I’m falling into the abyss, no longer able to tease either of us anymore.
“Beg for it,” I snarl as I fuck her like a savage, pressing her face into the mattress.
“Please, please…” Her sweet little voice reaches my ears, letting me know she is desperate for my cock.
“You want this cock, don’t you? Want it even though you hate the person it’s attached to.”
“Yes, yes! Please, Jackson, please…” Squeezing her hips tighter, I slam into her to the hilt and grind my hips against her ass. Like a rocket, she goes off, her pussy clamping down on me, sending me into a spiral of pleasure.
Roaring, I can’t stop myself as I erupt, filling her to the brim with my sticky seed. Falling forward, I crush her tiny body into the mattress, burying my face in her hair.
I don’t want to move. I feel so sated, intensely relaxed, but I can’t stay here with her. This isn’t that kind of thing. I’m not about to wrap her in my arms and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
This is all a part of the plan.
Hurting her. Breaking her.
Rolling off of her and the bed, I pull my shorts back up and tuck my cock into them. Miraculously, I somehow find my shirt in the dark and tug it back on. Slipping into my shoes, I walk to the door, lingering there for a moment, my hand hesitating over the doorknob. Why do I feel the need to ask her if she’s okay? She came. I felt her pulse around me, so I know she got off. Shaking the feeling away, I open the bedroom door and leave her apartment.
Once outside, I head back to my place, feeling lighter than I have in days. Fucking Kennedy is the highlight of my day. It’s almost better than taunting her or fighting with her. When I finally get to my apartment and crawl into bed, sleep evades me, and thoughts of Kennedy fill all the space in my mind.
I hate her, but part of me cares for her at the same time, and that’s the problem. If only my hate for her outweighed every other emotion I felt, maybe then, I wouldn’t be second-guessing myself. Maybe I wouldn’t have stopped at the door, paused, and wondered if I should ask if she was okay.
She’s getting under my skin, and it’s time to squish those feelings because, in my heart, I know there is no room for someone so ugly.
81
Kennedy
I hate how he uses me. How he thinks he can just show up at my apartment for a
quick fuck. Even more, I hate how I let him; hate how much I enjoy it. I don’t want to be that girl. Each time we’ve slept together, I’ve felt so dirty and ashamed. I’m so tired of feeling that way. I need to put an end to this before it’s too late. The question is, how? I’m not stupid, there is no saying no to Jackson.
Checking the time, I realize that I’m going to be late for class if I don’t start speed walking and stop daydreaming.
It’s time for my creative writing class, and even though I thought about skipping again, I decided against it. I don’t think I’ll be able to pass if I miss anymore.
The entire way, I was praying and hoping that he wouldn’t be there, but as soon as I walk in, I find him sitting in the chair behind my spot. Of course, he grins as soon as he sees me, like he’s actually happy and not here to make my life a complete living hell. Taking my usual seat, I try my best to ignore him as I get out my books and papers. Even though I haven’t been attending classes, Mrs. Jarrid has been sending me the assignments via email.
“How is your cunt doing? Sore?” he leans forward in his seat and whispers into my ear, his breath moving the tiny hairs against my neck. “Or are you ready for more?” When I don’t answer or turn around, he continues his taunting. “I’m coming by later for more, just so you’re prepared. Make sure you’re nice and wet for me. You know, like normal.”
Stupid. I’m so stupid, instantly my core clenches around nothing, and excitement swirls around in my belly like a tiny tornado. I hate the reaction I have to him; hate how much power he holds over my body.
“Good morning, class,” Mrs. Jarrid greets everybody with a smile. “Please get out your books and turn to page two-hundred-and-forty-one.”
I do as instructed and push the stupid thoughts away, preparing to do some actual learning. Reaching into my bag, I pull out a pencil and then drop the bag to the floor.
“Maybe we can fuck with the lights on this time?” Jackson whispers from behind me, and though it is a whisper, it’s loud enough that the people beside us can hear every word he’s saying. Ignoring him is my best bet. If I don’t react, he has no ammunition.
“What, you don’t want everyone to know how badly you want to ride my dick? Is that why you aren’t responding? Are you ashamed?” He slashes me with another sentence, and I swear my cheeks heat to the temperature of the sun.
Why is he embarrassing both of us like this? Why can’t he shut his fucking mouth? Does every little thing have to be about hurting me, breaking me down a little bit more?
Mrs. Jarrid says something up front, but I can’t focus because all I can hear is Jackson panting against the back of my neck.
“You should be used to this position, facing away from me…” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because, thank you, Lord, Mrs. Jarrid interrupts him.
“Excuse me, Jackson, is there a reason you keep interrupting my class?”
“Uhh, no.”
“Well, you’ve been warned in the past about talking when I’m talking, and since you can’t seem to follow simple instructions, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Jackson huffs with disbelief, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle my grin. Finally, somebody puts him in his place.
“Nope, not kidding. Get out of my class, and only come back if you’re going to take it seriously. I’m not a babysitter.”
Jackson slams his hand down on the table, making me jump. Then I hear him shoving stuff in his bag and cursing under his breath. He’s pissed. I know it without even looking at him. I watch, holding my breath as he walks out of the room, the door closing behind him.
“Now, where were we?” Mrs. Jarrid starts again, and I smile, feeling like I can finally breathe. A calmness washes over me, and I spend the rest of the class focusing on every word she says. Eventually, class comes to an end, and we’re dismissed. Packing up my things slowly, I can only hope that Jackson has disappeared.
Turns out, luck isn’t on my side because as soon as I walk out the door, I find him leaning against the wall, talking to another girl. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and laughs at something he says. His green eyes find mine, and I can see the fiery rage in them. He’s trying to hurt me, and even though I don’t want to admit it, it hurts to see him with someone else. I drop my gaze but still watch him out of the corner of my eye as he takes her hand in his, and they walk off somewhere. He doesn’t hold my hand. He doesn’t even look at me when we have sex.
An ugly feeling floods my veins… jealousy. I know I have no claim on Jackson. All along, I knew very well that this was nothing but sex for him. He wants nothing but revenge. He wants to hurt me in any way he can without physically touching me.
I knew all of this, and yet seeing him with another girl has my heart aching and my stomach-churning. I can handle him hating me, punishing me, even using me. But I can’t handle this. I can’t handle being one of his many girls, his second choice at best. The thought of him having sex with someone only hours before he has sex with me… I can’t do it. Pressing a hand to my stomach, I feel the need to vomit away.
I’m such an idiot, letting my feelings get involved. Who am I kidding? My feelings were part of this all along. It’s his feelings that are absent. He uses me, and I need to keep reminding myself of that.
Yes, he makes me come, and it’s amazing, but that’s all he’ll ever give me. An orgasm and heartache. When we have sex, I forget everything around me, I forget who we are and what we are doing. For some stupid reason, I was holding on to this part of us, thinking maybe something might change. Only now do I realize how special those brief moments were to me because, for some stupid reason, I felt like they were special to him as well.
Oh, how wrong I was. Now, my eyes are open, and I know I have to end this. I have to tell him no. I just don’t know how to end this without disappearing altogether.
82
Jackson
Where the fuck is she? It’s been three days, and I haven’t seen her since our creative writing class. I went to her apartment, almost kicked in the door, but then decided asking the landlord to open it for me was the better choice. As I suspected, she wasn’t there.
Gone, just fucking gone. Poof.
I went to each of her classes, asked the teachers, even other students… nothing. No one has seen or heard from her in three days. Three days. What if something happened to her? Someone touched her, or hurt her? Fuck. I’m going crazy just thinking about it. I tell myself I’m only worried because who will I torment if I don’t have her, but I know it’s deeper than that. I just don’t want to acknowledge it.
Facing the fact that there is only one thing left to do. My last resort. I get out my phone and dial the number I haven’t dialed in two years. I never thought I would ever call her house again. Of course, I never thought I would be fucking her either. I deleted the number the day Jillian died, but the truth is I memorized it years ago, and I’m pretty sure it will forever be etched into my mind.
For a brief second, I’m taken back in time.
“Can you please call Kennedy for me?” Jillian yells from the Jack and Jill bathroom that we share.
“Why can’t you do it?” I groan, tugging my cell phone out of my pocket.
Jillian pops her head into my room, half of her hair is curled, and the other is stick straight. “Because unlike you, who can just show up somewhere, I have to make myself look presentable, so please, call her and ask her what time she’s coming over.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Not that I really have a problem with calling Kennedy. It’s just thinking about her ruins my mojo for the night. I want to go on a date and not think about what my best friend, who I secretly want to bang, might be doing.
Hitting the call button on Kennedy’s number, I listen as ringing fills the line, a second later, Kennedy’s soft voice fills my ear.
“Hey, Jackson,” she purrs, and I swear I feel the sound in my cock.
“Hey, Junebug, Jillian wants to know wh
at time you’ll be over?”
“Mmm, maybe like eight.” I can see her forehead wrinkling as she thinks. God, she’s so beautiful. I just need to get the balls to tell her I want more, but then there is the thing with her being both Jillian and my friend. It’ll never work.
“Perfect. I’ll tell her.”
“Are you… are you coming tonight?” Kennedy asks with hesitation in her voice.
“Nah, I’ve got a date, but Ty will be there, and he said that he’ll watch you guys for me.”
“Oh, okay.” Her voice falls flat, and it sounds like she’s disappointed.
“You know you can call me if you need anything. I’ll be there.”
“Yeah, of course, no worries. I hope you have fun on your date.” The cheer returns to her voice, and I wonder if maybe I should skip the date and hang out with them. I’d have a better time anyway.
“I will, but not as much fun as you and Jill will have tonight. Be safe, okay, bug?”
“Always.”
We hang up, and something in my chest tells me to go with them, but I chalk it up to my feelings over Kennedy. I can’t have her, and that’s making me go a little wild.
“What did she say?” my sister yells as if she’s miles away.
“Jesus, stop yelling. She said she’d be here around eight.”
“Yay!” She squeals, making me place my hands over my ears or risk going deaf.
Just like that, I’m tossed from the memory and back into reality. It steals the air from my lungs and reminds me of a time when I was so carefree, and nothing could get me or keep me down. I hate it. Hate remembering a time when Kennedy was all I could ever want.
It’s already late, almost ten, I might wake them up, but I don’t really care. No way I’m waiting until tomorrow. Pressing the green call button, I put the phone to my ear and listen to the dial tone. A moment later, Kennedy’s mom answers the phone with a cheerful hello.