by J. L. Beck
“I already told you, no one.”
Does his father make a habit of doing this with all the girls Warren sleeps with?
“Let’s see,” he says in a condescending tone. In a flash, the door is shoved open, and Warren’s father’s eyes collide with mine. “She is a no one all right. I thought you’d know better than to mess around with that whore again.”
Whore? Anger pulses through my veins, and I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste the coppery tang of blood.
Warren stares at me with sorrow in his eyes before grabbing the door and pulling it closed. In an instant, I’m left alone with my thoughts again. Footsteps sound against the wooden floor, moving away from the bedroom. Part of me wants to get up and listen, but part of me doesn’t. I don’t want to hear what his father has to say about me. I know I’m not a whore. I’ve only ever been with Warren, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to know what he’s saying about me.
As I sit there wrapped in the blanket, I start to shiver. Even though I’m engulfed in warmth, I still feel cold, so cold. Why does Warren’s father think so shitty of me? Is it because we come from different classes? Because he is rich and I’m poor? Is it because my parents used to work for him before he rudely fired them?
All these questions burn through me, stoking the angry fire in my chest. As I wait for Warren to return, I go to his dresser and find something of his I can wear. Careful not to rip any of the bandages Warren put on me, I slip into a long sleeve shirt and sweatpants, which I have to roll to keep from falling down. Finally dressed, I feel much better, and a little less vulnerable. When Warren finally comes back into the room, he looks pissed, and I’m not sure if his anger is directed at his father or me.
“I’m sorry about him,” he mutters, shoving a frustrated hand through his hair. “He shouldn’t have called you that.”
“I don’t care what he says or thinks about me,” I give him the honest truth. There is something else that affected me much more than being called a whore. Going on the defense isn’t going to help me, I know this, but I’m still burning mad. “You told him I was no one to you.”
Warren’s face falls, “I don’t want my father to know who I care about. He’ll just use it against me.” His tone is already a little calmer as he sits down next to me on the bed. Reaching for my hand, he covers my cold one with his much larger, warm one.
“Why did your father call me a whore?” I ask. Even though I’m not hurt by it, I’m still curious. As if my touch has suddenly burned him, he pulls away.
“Let’s not talk about that today,” he snaps. I sigh in frustration, but let it go because I really don’t have the energy to fight with him right now.
“Can we just crawl back into bed and sleep all day?”
“I don’t know if there will be a lot of sleeping if I crawl back in that bed with you,” he smirks, and I’m glad I didn’t push the question. “How about I cook us something, and we can be lazy and lounge on the couch all day?”
My eyes light up, “Yes, let’s do that.”
Warren makes good on making us some food. He pops two pizzas in the oven while I try and find something to watch on TV. It’s been a while since I watched anything, between school and the fact that we could never afford it growing up, I don’t really know what’s decent to watch. Tossing the remote down, I all but jump out of my skin when the front door opens, and Warren’s roommates come stomping into the house.
“Is that pussy or pizza I smell?” Cameron chuckles.
“It’s going to be a broken nose, and a busted lip you’ll smell if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Warren growls as he appears in the living room.
Easton laughs, and walks into the living room, with Cameron trailing not far behind.
“Dude, you have got to learn to take a joke,” Cameron taunts.
Warren shakes his head and takes the seat next to me while Cameron goes left, and Easton goes right, leaving us in the middle of the two of them.
I can already feel how tense Warren is, his arm wrapping around me possessively. Does he think these two are going to steal me away or something?
“How is Harper doing?” Easton teases, giving me a wink. I’m not sure if I should reply or if that would set him off, so instead, I say nothing.
I run my finger over the edge of the bandaged palm absentmindedly, when Easton’s eyes catch on the movement. He looks down and stops at my bandages. “What happened to your hands?”
“Nothing,” I murmur, not wanting to be reminded of last night, but when I lower my gaze, I catch sight of his hands. His knuckles are swollen, and the skin is broken in some places. It looks like he got into a fight, even though his face looks fine, so maybe the fight was one-sided. “What happened to your hands?”
“Nothing,” he echoes my own word, and I decide to be satisfied with that answer just like he was with mine.
“Don’t you two fucks have anything else to do? Girls to stalk or something?”
Easton taps on his chin with his finger, he’s handsome, but not in the same way Warren is. He’s more rugged and unkempt.
“Ahhh, let me think, no. We love annoying you.”
“Why have us as roommates if you hate us so much?” Cameron snickers and the only place this conversation is going is to the jail because Warren is going to beat the piss out of these guys if they don’t go away. I don’t know what it is about him, but Warren is beyond territorial.
“I’m telling you now…” Warren clenches and unclenches his fist.
“Warren…” I whisper into his ear and place my hand against his thigh. “Maybe they want to watch a movie with us? They are your roommates.”
Easton and Cameron say nothing, and Warren stares at me for a long moment, before reaching for the remote. Releasing a sigh, I know I’ve won this fight. As he finds something to watch, I snuggle into his side.
Warren turns on something called Game of Thrones, and the guys immerse themselves in it. After a short while, I start to fall asleep, but I’m startled awake when they start talking. I’m drifting in and out of sleep, but I’m pretty sure I hear them saying something about a girl who saw them do something.
Warren tells them to shut up and runs his fingers through my hair.
Easton and Cameron continue to talk, but eventually, their voices get quieter, telling me they’ve left the room. Now that we’re alone, I start to sink deeper like a stone sinking into the dark waters.
Just before I fall off the deep end, I swear I hear Warren say… I love you, and somehow, that tells me everything is going to be okay. Even though his dad hates me, and we haven’t exactly been on great terms, I know Warren wants me. He’s always wanted me, and maybe this is our chance, our chance at forever.
15
Warren
We walk up to the apartment building Harper used to stay in. The thought of her sleeping in this dump still enrages me. I am so glad she hasn’t been here in over a week. Instead, she’s been staying at my place, in my bed with me… where she belongs. Where she’s always belonged.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and without even looking, I know who it is. My father has been calling and texting me nonstop, wanting me to come to the house and talk about Harper. He doesn’t want me to see her, thinks I’m making a mistake. He says it’s because he is worried about me getting hurt again, but part of me knows damn well that he thinks she is beneath our standards. He thinks I should date someone in our class. What he doesn’t realize is that Harper has more class in her little finger than most of the girls here.
“You okay?” Harper asks, holding out her now healed hand to me.
I take it before answering, “Yeah, I’m good. I’m just glad you don’t live here anymore. Let’s get all of your stuff, so we don’t have to come back here ever again.”
“Fine by me. I like it at your place better… someone cooks for me there.”
“And I like you at my place ’cause that means someone keeps my bed warm for me,” I tease, making her giggle.
We walk up the stairs, the sound of her laughter still echoing through the sad-looking staircase.
When we get to her room, she gets out the key and opens her small apartment. The moment she steps in, I can feel her tense up next to me. She doesn’t like being here, and again, guilt hits me. I sent her back here the night after I fucked her. After I already knew what a shitty place this is. Even knowing that someone broke in here, I made her sleep here again.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks, concern for me lacing her voice, and the irony is not lost on me.
“Yeah, let’s just get this over with, and just so you know, you are never going to stay in a place like this again.”
“If you say so,” she gives me a tiny smile before turning away from me to pack up her stuff. She gets a suitcase out of the wall closet and places it on her bed. She doesn’t have many clothes. In fact, the entire contents of her dresser fits into her one suitcase. I zip it up and put it beside the door for now.
I try and help her as much as I can without getting in the way, but there really isn’t much for me to do. When she goes into the attached bathroom, I start looking around for stuff to pack.
The kitchen, if you can even call it that, has nothing in it that we can’t buy her new. Plus, she has everything she needs at my house. No use for rusted pots and pans and mismatched cups and plates. Sweeping the room again, I catch sight of a pink box peeking out from under the bed. Curiously, I walk over to the bed and sit on the edge of it. It squeaks under my weight, and I reach down and pull out the box. I take the lid off slowly. I feel like a kid sneaking downstairs to open a Christmas present three days early.
I mean what could really be in this box...
As soon as the lid is pulled off enough for me to reveal the contents, I freeze. Hell, I almost drop the box when I see the small assortment of vibrators inside it. There isn’t anything crazy in there, but still, I’m somewhat shocked to find a box of vibrators under my sweet Harper’s bed.
“Are you snooping?” Harper appears back in the open space.
Like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, I slam the box shut and sit it on the ground in front of me, as if I never touched it at all. Harper starts laughing, and I won’t lie; she looks, so sexy smiling.
“What, you’ve never seen a vibrator before?”
“I’m just surprised,” I shrug, doing my best not to make a big deal out of it.
“Why? I didn’t have a boyfriend after you, but I still have… you know… needs.”
“Oh, I know your needs, all right,” I smirk. I know her needs very well. She was made for me and me for her.
She walks over to the bed where I’m sitting. Her fingers trailing over my shoulders, and she sits down on my lap. “Maybe you can show me how well you know?”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. Pouncing like a wild animal, I have her on her back in a second flat, my hand wrapped around her delicate throat. I don’t squeeze because the point isn’t to show her I can hurt her. I want control.
My other hand disappears into her jeans, finding its way into her panties and between her thighs with ease, her sweet arousal already forming there.
Her eyes flutter closed, and she lets out a soft moan. I can feel the sound vibrating under my touch. I’m going to take that as a yes. With a smile on my lips, I release her throat and press kisses against it, loving the feeling of having her beneath me.
I imagine this is how it always would’ve been with us, had we made it to this point. Teasing her entrance with my fingers, I dip one digit inside her and then pull it back out. I do this a few times, noticing how much wetter she gets each time I slide back in.
“Stop teasing me,” Harper groans in displeasure and takes her own hand and places it over mine. “If you won’t please me, then I’ll do it myself.”
The bite of her words sink into my flesh, almost as if she’s bitten me, and I swear my cock gets ten times harder. Pleasure swells in my chest, and I pull off her pants and panties in one move.
“Show me,” I order, pulling back just enough to get a full view, wanting to see her finger herself.
Harper’s cheeks turn a soft pink, and she bites her bottom lip in a seductive way that has me wanting to take that lip and bite on it, make it bleed.
“I’ve never done this with someone watching,” she tells me shyly, and that turns me on more. At least I get one first.
“Good. I want you to be all mine. Finger your pussy, rub your clit, make yourself come…” I say, swallowing down my need to go to her when her finger starts to rub against her folds. Her eyes remain on mine while I look between her pussy and her face, becoming completely mesmerized by her.
Spreading her legs wider, her fingers start to move faster. One digit slips into her tight channel, and with the palm of her hand, she rubs her clit. Fuck, I wish my cock was her finger right now.
I make quick work of my pants and boxers, so I can fist my length in my hand. Using my thumb, I spread the pre-cum that beads the tip over the head.
Her head falls back against the mattress, and a throaty moan that I feel deep in my toes slips from her throat.
“Stop,” I growl and march over to her. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my cock, and only on my cock.” Barely restraining my need for her, I grab her and flip her over. She doesn’t make a sound, and instead shoves her ass into the air, wiggling it at me. Doesn’t she know if you provoke the bull, you get the horns?
Crawling up onto the bed, I situate myself behind her and bring the head of my cock to her entrance. As hard as it is, and it’s really fucking hard, pun intended, I slide into her as slow as I can, watching as she swallows every thick inch of my cock.
My balls press against her ass, and I swear we both let out a sigh that is filled with both contentment and desire. After a beat, I place both hands on her perfect hips and start fucking her like there is no tomorrow.
Harper becomes a sexy lioness then, pushing back against me, fucking me as I fuck her, and I’ve never felt so much being exchanged between two people.
“You feel like heaven, like fucking home…” The words come out hoarse, and I shouldn’t say them, but I can’t hold them back. Not now, and maybe not ever again. My feelings for her are only growing, blossoming with each new day.
“Warren, oh, god…” She cries, and it’s music to my ears. I’ve never heard a cry so fucking sweet.
“What do you need?” I purr, trailing a hand up her spine as I continue to jackhammer inside her.
“You. Harder. Faster. I just need you,” she pants against the mattress, and I let my hand move to the back of her neck. Brushing her silky hair away, I maintain a firm grip and take control completely, holding her down while I own her pussy like it was meant to be owned.
Faster and harder, I thrust, swiveling my hips to make the head of my cock touch that sweet spot that I know will have her gushing all over me.
“Oh, yes… yes…” Harper whimpers, her words muffled, but I can still make them out.
“Don’t fight it. Come on my cock,” I thrust my hips faster, listening to the sound of our skin slapping together, and watch as our juices drip down my length and gather at my balls.
Harper starts to come then; her channel squeezes the life right out of me. Once she starts to fall apart, my own release begins to crest. I come like I’ve never come before, my cock spasming inside of her as I paint her womb with my sticky release.
Sagging against her, I press a kiss to her clammy forehead. I’m falling for her, falling deeper and deeper, and soon there won’t be any saving me. My heart is growing again, beating stronger, and if everything falls apart again… I can’t even think about that right now. Easing out of Harper, I grab a couple of tissues from her nightstand that still hasn’t been packed and clean the insides of her thighs. I can feel her eyes on me the entire time, watching my every movement.
“Are you okay?” she asks for the tenth time, and I wonder if she can see through my mask, see h
ow much I still fucking want her and how much it’s killing me to deal with all these thoughts and feelings.
Not wanting to ruin what we have, I nod, “Yes, I’m fine, babe, now stop asking me every five seconds if I’m okay. If I wasn’t, I would tell you,” I lie, because I’m not about to tell her what’s wrong. I don’t want to talk about it. All I want to do is forget and move on. I don’t want to continue to relive the past.
16
Harper
Warren has been acting strange lately, or at least stranger than usual. When he walks me to class today, Easton is already there, and, of course, he waves and smiles at me. I return the smile and wave before turning back to say goodbye to Warren, who is staring daggers into Easton’s head. I don’t understand his need to be territorial.
“Hey, I was just saying hi,” I say softly. “I thought we were past this?”
“I don’t care. I told you not to talk to him, and I’m tired of you doing whatever the hell you want. You know Easton pisses me off, you know his stupid antics make me lose my mind, but yet, you feed right into it.” Anger rushes off of him in waves.
Unable to hold in my own anger, I lash out at him, “I don’t do anything. He’s your roommate, and I’m your… well, I don’t even know what I am to you. All you keep saying is that I’m yours, but you’re not mine. So, I don’t know what that means, but it surely doesn’t mean you have to piss in a circle around me.”
The look in his eyes is feral, and his hands curl into tight fists, “You’ll regret talking to me like this. You belong to me, Harper. When I tell you to do something, you do it. Maybe I need to remind you of that.”
Without so much as a goodbye, he turns and walks away, leaving me to simmer in my own anger. Gritting my teeth, I stomp into the classroom and take my usual seat, tugging my books out of my bag.