by Beck, J. L.
“Don’t touch me, and don’t fucking threaten me again. You’ve changed, Remington, and the person you are and the person I am, are no longer people that run in the same circles. I don’t know you anymore. The Remington I knew never would’ve done what you just did. Touch me again and I’ll find a way to make you pay.”
And that’s the truth, the fucking truth. Never in a million years would I have put my hands on her like that. I never would’ve been excited to see fear flicker in her eyes, but I wasn’t that person anymore. This was the new me, and the only version she was going to fucking get.
“I’ll break you, Jules. I’ll make you pay for this,” I bite out each word, holding onto my balls, my entire world spinning out of control. One fucking day, one day is all it took for her to come back into my life sending all the perfectly constructed walls surrounding my heart into a crumbling mess. One day is all it took for her to make my stupid black hole of a heart beat again.
“I look forward to it,” she sneers, walking back into the house, leaving me alone outside with nothing more than the sick feeling of what I almost did to her, and the reality of the man I’ve become.
4
Jules
Two days. That’s how long it’s been since Remington showed me a side of him I never plan to see again. Every time I close my eyes, there he is, an image of his angry eyes. All I can see is him forcing me to my knees, ordering me to suck his dick. I can’t help but cringe. Who the hell does he think he is? He never put his hands on me before, and though he didn’t hurt me, not physically, he definitely wounded me emotionally.
“Which movie do you want to watch?” Cally, my roommate, calls from the living room.
“I can’t watch a movie right now. I’ve got like three assignments due tomorrow,” I huff, trying to forget about Remington, about the party, and the entire events from that night. I’d have saved myself a lot of time had I not tried to make friends and just stayed home and did my homework.
“I thought you had someone coming over?” Bridget, my other roommate, appears in the kitchen. She’s got her long blonde hair in a messy bun, and a pair of glasses sit on the tip of her nose. Like me, Bridget is all about her grades, and less about the drinking and boys. College is nothing more than another step in her life.
“Well, I did…I don’t know if he’s coming now.” She pouts, plopping down onto the sectional before pulling out her phone. That explains why she’s dressed like she’s going to a party down the block.
Bridget grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and smiles at me. “How are classes going?”
“Good, just trying to figure out where everything is located.”
“Yeah, the campus is huge, but you’ll get used to it. Just like anything new. It takes time.”
I smile, feeling thankful to have met Bridget.
She’s kind and soft-hearted and offered to let me stay here rent-free, at least until I can get everything switched around with the colleges. My mom’s trying to help me, but with her working non-stop, it’s hard enough just to get her on the phone, let alone to help with anything.
“For sure, but I’m enjoying it.”
“Yeah, she went to a party with me the other night,” Cally pipes up from the couch, and Bridget smirks.
“She’s already corrupting you, isn’t she?”
I shake my head.
“No. I actually invited her to come with me. I was asked by someone I had just met and didn’t want to go alone. But I won’t be going again. I realized that parties aren’t really my scene.”
Bridget nods as if she agrees with me. “Mine either. I’m a homebody. All I need is a glass of wine and a good book and I’m good for the night.”
“Boring,” Cally snickers from the couch. Just then, the doorbell rings. Cally scurries from the couch like there’s a fire and I start to pick up my books deciding that studying in my bedroom is a much smarter idea right now.
I don’t care to watch Cally have sex with someone on our couch, not that I think she would, but I don’t plan to stick around and find out. Bridget must feel the same way because she turns with her water bottle in hand and starts back down the hallway toward her bedroom. I load up all my stuff in my arms and turn to walk toward my bedroom, but my body freezes up when I see who it is that’s at the door.
Remington.
The blood in my veins turns to ice and I can’t get my stupid feet to move, it’s like they’re cemented into the floor or something. As soon as he spots me, his eyes turn from playful, a look I know all too well, to downright disgust and hate.
Why does he hate me so much?
I don’t understand, and still a part of me wants to. I want to go to him, wrap my arms around him and will him to tell me what happened. But I’m afraid, afraid of what he might do, and even worse how I might react.
We’re no longer best friends, were no longer anything, and that means there isn’t anything stopping him from hurting me. There are no lines, nothing to be crossed because in Remington's mind everything is fair game.
He doesn’t care for a damn thing, which is so unlike him. It’s dangerous, and a game that I don’t want to play. Cally closes the door, and the tension in the room grows thick. I can taste it on my tongue.
I don’t think she knows what’s going on, and even though I should probably tell her, being she’s my roommate and all I know, it wouldn’t change anything. Remington Miller is a North Woods god, and I’m just some transfer without a name. She would probably kick me out of the house if he asked her to.
“I’m so happy you showed up. I was just going to start a movie, want anything to drink?” Cally asks, oblivious to the daggers he’s throwing at me. Somehow, I know this is bad, him knowing where I live, who my roommates are.
You’ll pay for this.
His words ring in my ears. I can still feel the venom in his voice, clinging to my skin. I’m a nobody in his world, a nobody at this college, and he’s a god with women throwing themselves at him and men wishing they could be him. Making me disappear wouldn’t be too hard. Destroying me even easier.
“Cally, babe, mind if I have a short little chat with your friend.” His deep seductive voice gets the blood pumping in my veins. I find myself shaking my head without thought. Scurrying from the living room, I all but run down the hallway and to my bedroom.
His heavy footfalls fill the space behind me, and I know there is no way I can outrun him. I should’ve listened. I shouldn’t have pushed him. Reaching my door, I open it, throwing my books to the floor. Just as I turn to slam it closed and lock it, his booted foot wedges into the door jamb. My gaze falls to the spot. He still wears combat boots which is a strange thing for me to be thinking about at this moment when he’s so close and clearly wanting to snap me in two.
“Didn’t I tell you… warn you?” His voice is deadly, and I shiver, wondering if it’s out of fear or something else. Since that night when he pushed me to my knees and ordered me to suck his cock, I’ve been feeling things, things I shouldn’t be for a man as mean and scary as Remington.
I shove against the door, trying to shut it, but it only takes one tiny push for him to overpower me. He opens the door and saunters into the bedroom, my bedroom, his eyes never wavering from mine, fire and rage simmering in his green depths.
Why does he have to look so gorgeous, and angry, and mean, and no, I cannot be thinking about him like that right now. He isn’t the same person I once knew.
His huge hand grips onto the edge of the door and then he’s shutting it. Trapping us both inside I take a step back, the room feels smaller than usual now that he’s in it. The sound of the lock clicking into place sends my heart into overdrive. It beats so loudly all I can hear for a moment is the swooshing of blood in my ears. Can he hear it too? How hard my heart is beating?
What happened to the boy I loved?
“Get out,” I whisper, my voice weak, my body weak. I should’ve listened to him, listened to his stupid warning. Never before was I a rule
breaker, but Remington’s rules are dumb, more than dumb, they’re asinine.
“Nope. I’m here to show you a lesson,” he smirks, but it’s not his usual smile, no this smile promises heartache. His eyes move up and down my body, and I feel like I’m under a microscope.
“I didn’t do anything…” My lips tremble giving away my emotions, and I hate that he gets me to react this way. He takes a step forward, his body looming, rippling with anger, with a vengeance, and I know the boy I loved once, the boy who was my best friend, my everything, is no longer inside him.
“You fucking exist, and that’s enough of a reason for me.”
I don’t even get a chance to respond, before he’s on me, his fingers digging into my skin roughly. This time I know I won’t get to punch him in the nuts, but that doesn’t mean I’ll just let him hurt me. I kick and claw at him, but he overpowers me as if I’m nothing but an annoying fly.
He pushes me down onto the bed face first, his knee pressing into my lower back to keep me in place. My face is in the bed sheets, and I struggle against his hold. Fear claws at my insides when I hear the flick of the button on his jeans. He isn’t...he wouldn’t? Would he?
“Remington, stop it,” I order him, tossing my head to the side to get a much-needed breath and to make certain he can hear me. I feel his hands slip into the waistband of my yoga pants.
“You have no idea who the fuck you’re messing with. Who I am now. I own this school...girls want me to fuck them, guys want to be me, and I run the place like a king. I could kill someone, and no one would care, no one would even bat an eye.”
Panic grabs onto me, refusing to let go. He owns this school, and all the people in it, everyone except me. He doesn’t own me. I let that sink in giving me the courage I need to fight him off. I squirm, bucking my hips and rolling them, doing whatever I can to throw him off.
“Fight me, Jules, fucking fight me. It makes all of this that much more exhilarating.”
“You don’t own me…” I choke on the rest of my sentence when I feel the cool air against my panty-covered ass. He shoves my yoga pants down my thighs and sinks more of his body weight into mine.
Even though I’m scared, terrified of what he’s going to do, a part of me is tempted to give into the darkness inside of him, to let him unleash it on me. I wonder if I gave myself to him, if I let him have me, if it would change anything. If it would bring him back to me.
“We’ll see about that.”
I can feel his hot breath against my ear. Before I can gather my wits, he’s ripping my panties down my legs, the effort it takes for him to do so is pitiful. My chest heaves as I try and catch my breath. He’s not really going to do this, is he? He wouldn’t rape me. That’s not him, even as angry as he is, he wouldn’t cross that line.
Then I feel him...and not just him, but his cock, it’s huge, and it slides up and down my ass crack, making me shiver with fear, but there is more than fear simmering in my belly. There is something else entirely. Warmth fills my being, sending rivulets of pleasure straight to my core. I’m confused, completely fucking confused. I shouldn’t want this, and strangely, I do.
I’ve imagined sex with him ever since I figured out what it was in seventh-grade health ed class. But never, ever did I imagine it being like this. I had always assumed he would be my first, but I thought it would be sweet and gentle, not this raw, dirty, roughness.
Remington’s hand palms my heated flesh, his touch surprisingly gentle as he slides his cock between my ass cheeks, up and down, up and down. I can hear him inhale and exhale as if he’s trying to calm himself. My own breathing is out of control and I wonder if this is it. If this is where he claims me.
“Should I fuck your pussy or your ass?” I start to squirm again, wishing I could at least see his face, try to find the boy inside of him I once knew.
“Let me go…you’ve proven your point,” I croak, pleasure swirling between my legs.
“No, I don’t think I have yet.” His hand travels from my ass cheeks around my body and snakes between my legs. His fingers are thick and my body is having a hard time separating the things he’s doing to it from the person he is now.
These are all things I wanted once upon a time, his hands on me, his lips on mine, and maybe part of me still wants them, but not with the man he is right now. I want the old him, the boy who held my hand, who smiled at me and wiped my tears away. I want my best friend back.
Without warning, he starts to rub gentle circles against my clit.
“Maybe I’ll fuck both. Tell everyone you were a whore that begged me to take both of your holes.”
My body reacts to his touch, even though his words are cruel, and his voice angry. I want to speak, to say something but I’m afraid I’ll moan instead, so to save face I press my lips together.
He keeps rubbing me, teasing my clit and it’s driving me insane.
“Remington,” his name falls off my lips dripping with need and I could kick myself for not being able to keep my mouth shut.
“Mmm, your pussy is already wet. You like this, don’t you? I bet you aren’t even a virgin. I bet you’ve slept with tons of fuckers just like me. Slept your way through life.”
“No,” I cry out, just as he plunges two fingers inside my channel. I wince, my entire body locking up as pain and pleasure mix together.
“Fuck…you’re so tight,” he hisses, his fingers stilling inside of me. I whimper into the sheets, and he eases a little of his weight off my body before he starts moving again, thrusting his fingers deep inside me. He’s knuckles deep, rubbing at a magical spot. A spot I didn’t even know existed until now. The pleasure builds, bringing me closer to the edge. This is insane, wrong, so wrong but it feels right. I can’t hold my moan in any longer.
“Perfect, absolute perfection,” he whispers, most likely not wanting me to hear him. He presses a kiss to the back of my head as he fucks me with his fingers, spearing me, breaking my heart and body all over again.
It doesn’t take long for me to grow wetter and wetter with need, my entire body shaking, my legs trembling as an impending orgasm sneaks up on me. I’ve only ever made myself come, and it’s never felt the way it does now, earth-shattering, consuming every single cell in my body. All I can feel is his fingers sinking deeper and deeper into my flesh until I feel nothing but blissful pleasure rippling through my body.
My pussy quivers around his fingers, my muscles tightening, trying to push him out as my release gushes out of me and onto his hand.
“Such a pretty little pussy. I never would’ve expected you to be so responsive to my hate, I guess we’re both full of surprises.”
I bite my bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed, and cringe at the copper tang of blood against my tongue. When Remmy withdraws his fingers, I’m left reeling, my body missing his touch, the fire he sparks inside me.
He remains on top of me, just lying on my body, breathing heavy, as if he is the one needing a minute of rest after what just happened. Once his breathing is under control, he finally lifts his body off mine, the absence of his touch leaves me feeling cold. I crave his touch, his words even though cruel. All over again, I’m that little girl falling for her brother’s best friend.
Before I can say or do anything, he pulls my pants all the way off, throwing them on the floor beside the bed. He flips me over onto my back and then he’s back on me, his whole body pushing me into the mattress. In this position, I can see him, see what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. Peering up into his hardened face, I wonder what he’s going to do next, and even worse, if I’m going to let him do it.
My heart is racing, and my breathing is shallow now that we're face to face. He’s still angry, nothing but hate and sadness reflecting in his eyes. It's then looking at him, seeing those emotions swirl that I realize I’m not mad at him. I don't hate him for doing this.
I couldn't, not even if I wanted to. Instead, I feel something entirely different…I feel remorse. I feel sorry that this is what h
e has turned into, sorry that there is no love in his life, that he's lost the light, the kindness he once had.
Feeling a need to bring back that man, I grasp onto his shirt, grabbing a handful of the fabric, pulling him even closer while lifting up my head from the mattress. I don’t think. I simply press my lips to his and kiss him. His lips are warm, and I inhale his scent, diving headfirst into the emotions he's pulling deep from inside me.
My mouth fuses to his, a hunger clawing at my belly. The sweet innocent kisses we shared before when we were kids is nothing compared to this kiss. This kiss holds a need, a possessiveness I want to grab onto.
Remington deepens the kiss and for a moment, I forget about how hurt we are, how angry we’ve been over losing each other. For a moment, we’re the same people we used to be using the strength of our kiss to say things neither of us ever could.
But the moment passes just as quickly as it started and within seconds, he's pulling away, his lips swollen, his chest heaving. I catch a flicker of confusion that mirrors my own in his eyes before he jumps off the bed, immediately turning his back to me. I can hear him fastening his pants back up. I’m shocked, my thoughts disheveled, but one thing sticks out in my mind. I don't want what we just shared to end already.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice weak. I don't want him to go, I don't want him to run away from me, not after I've caught a glimpse of the boy I once knew. I stare at his broad shoulders, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt, his body full of tension.
He wasn't expecting the kiss, or my reaction to him and maybe that's what he needs, to be shocked. I don't really know, but I can't let go of what happened. I'm waiting for an answer, but it never comes, and though I'm not surprised, I am hurt.
“Don’t go!” I order, but he’s already out the door, slamming it closed shut behind him, leaving me sitting on the bed naked from the waist down with nothing but the memory of his lips on mine. What did we just do? When I feel like my legs are steady enough to hold my weight, I slide off the bed and pick up my discarded clothes. Just as I’m pulling my panties up, the door flies open again.