by J. L. Beck
I come to a stop right in front of her door. My lips form into a line, and before I pull on that tight mask that covers my real emotions, I stand there taking comfort in knowing she is only a few feet away from me. Even with the door between us, my need for her is soothed. I want her close, but far away at the same time. She leaves my brain in disarray, scrambling it like a plate of scrambled eggs.
I can hear her on the other side of the door, smell her unique floral scent, and almost feel her heat. Almost. After about ten minutes, my patience has worn out. As quietly as I can, I feel for the key laying on the top of the doorframe, knowing without a doubt that she’s locked her door. Or at least I hope she has, if she’s smart, she would.
Her trust in me is confusing. I thought she would push me away yesterday, fight me, maybe even scream, but instead, she shocked me by letting me fuck her like I wanted to. She let me use her for my own pleasure without so much as a peep. I can still remember the feeling of her quivering pussy around my cock. I wanted to let her come so badly, but that wouldn’t have made it a punishment for her, and I wanted to punish her, break her so badly it was all I could feel, up until I slid inside her. Maybe letting me use her body was her way of saying sorry. As if that would be enough, it would never be enough.
She didn’t have to let me touch her. If she had told me to stop, I would’ve even though I didn’t want to, but she didn’t because deep down she wanted me to use her, she wanted me to touch her, to fuck her, and I hold onto that knowledge with an iron fist, knowing I’ll use it against her over and over again. Inserting the key, I turn it, listening to the small click when the door unlocks. Turning the knob, I push the door open, bracing myself for her to yell at me, maybe even push me out.
Instead, I find her room empty.
I can hear the shower running in the bathroom and my dick turns incredibly hard. So much bare smooth skin is hiding on the other side of that door. I lick my lips in anticipation and walk toward the bathroom. I test the doorknob, turning it gently, smiling when I realize it’s not locked. I kind of expected her to be paranoid enough to lock the bathroom door as well. Hot steam hits my face as I push the door open.
Her perfect silhouette hiding behind the see-through frosted glass of the shower enclosure is the first thing I see when I step inside. I close the door behind me, the noise alerting her to my presence.
“Get out, Vance,” she yells over the roar of the shower, much less surprised of me being here than I thought she would be, taking a little of the wind out of my sails.
Tilting my head to the side, I ask, “Why? I thought you would be happy to give me another show.”
“Just go away, please. You’ve hurt me enough, and I don’t have it in me to fight with you right now,” she says in a much lower, almost defeated tone.
She sounds tired, hurt, maybe even broken. Just as I told her she would be. I ignore the feelings her sadness gives me. I don’t have room inside me to feel sorry for her. Anger and resentment taking up too much space already.
“I bet your nipples are hard right now, your pussy dripping for me,” I taunt. “I’m ready to use you again. So wash nice and good between your legs. I’m not sure where or who you’ve been with last night, but I don’t want to catch anything.”
The thought of her being with someone else has my blood boiling. She better not have been with anyone else. Not unless she wants me to go to jail for murder. Though knowing her, she’d probably tell me she did just to spite me.
“Leave, I don’t want to have sex with you again.”
“I didn’t ask you what you want. I said I’m ready to use you again. Finish up your shower so you can get me off. Unless you want me to come into the shower to do it. Maybe I’ll throat fuck you today. I’m getting tired of your mouth running, like you have a fucking choice in anything I do to you. It’ll be a lot harder for you to talk with my cock in your mouth.”
“I’m not one of your whores, Vance, and I’m not having sex with you again. I’m definitely not giving you a blow job either. If you so desperately need to get off, maybe go find Sarah. My vagina isn’t taking orders from some boy that thinks he knows me.”
Somehow she’s grown a backbone since the last time we saw each other. I’ll take pleasure in snapping that newly formed bone, along with whatever attitude she plans to give me. I own her now, her pleasure, her sadness, her pain. I hold all the keys, and I'll unlock all the doors I have to prove my points.
She turns off the water a moment before pushing the shower door open.
I’ve seen her naked before but still, the sight of her, it takes my breath away. There’s nothing like it, her beauty is profound. Her wet hair sticks to her skin around her shoulders and collarbone, her breasts are perked up, her light pink nipples rising and falling with every breath she takes. Tiny droplets of water kiss her pale smooth skin like freckles.
My eyes wander all the way south until I’m looking at her perfect little pussy. I’ve got self-control and I would say I’m pretty good at holding onto it, but it takes a lot out of me to not reach out and run my fingers over her and through her folds. My hand twitches with a possessive need to touch her. And I curl it into a fist, digging my nails into my palm to stop the ache.
She steps out of the large shower stall with her head held high, that cute little chin of hers jutted out. If she’s trying to prove that she’s strong and unaffected by me, she’s doing a shit job, and ironically, she’s not a good enough actor which surprises me given all the lying she does.
Not when I can hear the light tremble in her voice and see the subtle shaking of her hands when she reaches for the towel. You’d think she would be able to give an Oscar-worthy performance every time.
I guess not...I guess a liar is only as good as the lies they’re telling.
She wraps the fluffy towel around her torso, covering up the beautiful canvas I had been admiring and wipes the condensation off the mirror with her palm. Then she picks up her toothbrush and starts brushing her teeth, trying her best to ignore me. Adorable. As if I’m that fucking forgettable. Taking a step forward, I center myself directly behind her, lifting a hand, I skim it across her shoulders.
Try and ignore me now. I force myself to smile when I know I should be punching myself in the face, but I can’t help it. She lied, she used me, and I never saw it coming I fed right into her fucking hand.
Spitting into the sink before spinning around, she slaps my hand away.
“Don’t touch me,” she growls, and my smirk widens.
“Oh, I plan on doing much more than touching… and it’s not like you don’t want it. Stop playing hard to get,” I say, pinching one of her towel-covered tits.
She shoves at my chest with both hands, making me stumble back. The heat of her touch resonates through my chest. I want to pull her closer, wrap my arms around her, but I also want to see her cry, see those beautiful emerald eyes fill with tears.
“I said no! This is over. I’m done trusting you. We are done!” she yells, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I can’t help but laugh at her words. She’s done trusting me? That’s rich. “Get. Out,” she huffs, squeezing her eyes shut and I’m surprised at how angry she sounds. I decide to let her cool off then. I don’t want to break her too fast. I’m going to draw out the pain, make it hurt as bad as I can.
“Fine, I’ll wait in your room for you. But make sure your pussy is nice and wet when you get out. I’ll still fuck you if it isn’t, but I’d prefer for it to be, a wet pussy fucks better than a dry one,” I say, even though I’m pretty sure she is more than serious about not having sex.
Too bad, I was really looking forward to using her body against her today, but I’m not about forcing her. I have other ways to get my rocks off to hurt her.
Back in her room, I look around the space, trying to find something of interest. My eyes catch sight of her laptop sitting on her desk. Jackpot. I walk across the room and flip the thing open, shaking my head at her stupidity when I realize she doesn’t have it password pro
tected. Cracking my knuckles, I grin like the asshole I am and start to flip through the folders on the screen and stop at the one that says Homework.
I open it and delete every single file in it. Then I click the Trash icon in the corner and empty it out, making sure she can’t recover any of her homework.
Boom! Asshole deed of the day, done.
Satisfied with my work, I shut the computer and sit down on her bed, lounging on it like I own the place. I don’t have to wait long before she exits the bathroom, shooting me an angry glare that’s filled to the brim with flames of fire.
“I said to get out, Vance, and I meant it. Keep fucking with me and I’ll go to my mom.”
Her threat is laughable more than anything. I open my mouth to respond when she suddenly drops the towel in front of the dresser. Fuck. My cock stands at attention, growing like a weed in a second flat. I stare at her smooth ass and envision entering her from behind before I can stop myself. She starts to pull on her clothes, and by then, I finally get my mouth to work again.
Swallowing a knot of arousal down, I say, “Is that a threat?”
She turns around to face me for half a second, her eyes burn into mine and I see all the pain, all the sadness I’ve caused her.
“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”
Then, without another word, she leaves the room. What the… Who the fuck does she think she is? I won’t lie and say my mouth isn’t left gaping open like a fish flopping out of water. She doesn’t get to talk to me like that…
I lounge against her bed waiting for her to come back, but after a few minutes, curiosity gets the better of me and I get up to look for her. I check the kitchen, the living room, and even in the backyard, but I don’t see her anywhere. Maybe she left? Though she didn’t have her wallet, or keys with her when she left her bedroom.
Letting out a sigh of frustration, I tell myself she’s most likely hiding from me. I’m about ready to grab my keys and head over to Clark’s house when I hear voices, they’re faint, but they carry through the house like a quiet gust of wind entering through a window. It sounds like it’s coming from my dad’s office down the hall.
Ava’s voice meets my ears, it’s soft, vulnerable, and for some strange reason, tugs at my heart. My jaw tenses and my heart thunders deep inside my chest. I know I shouldn’t, that I should keep on track with my plans, but I can’t. Something compels me to walk down the hall, like I need to hear what she’s going to say, what she is saying. Stopping a few feet away from my father’s office door, I lean against the far wall.
The door is not closed all the way which lets me hear right in on their conversation.
“I don’t understand why we can’t tell Vance the truth. It was a long time ago, and things have changed so much since then. Please just tell him the truth.” Ava’s heartbroken voice meets my ears.
“I will not tell him anything.” My father’s voice comes through.
“He blames me. He hates me for it,” she admits softly.
Of course I blame her… she’s a lying…
“Well, that’s because it is your fault. What kid comes into her mother’s room in the middle of the night at that age? If you hadn’t snuck in that night…if you would have stayed in your room that night…” My father trails off.
“I’m sorry, okay? It was a stupid game, and yes, I should have been asleep that night, but you can’t really place the fault for what happened on me.”
“Of course I can, you’re the one who told your father. Had you kept your yap shut, I wouldn’t have had to lie to my son. The way I see it, all of this is your fault.”
I blink, the air stills in my lungs and for a moment I wonder if this is real. Or if this is all a nightmare. He lied.
“You were the ones having an affair,” she snaps back, and I hear my father slam something down on the table.
“You’re not to bring this up ever again. You are going to keep your mouth shut about what you saw that night from here on out or you and your mother are going to be out on the street without a penny in your pockets. Do you understand me?” My father’s voice booms through the room and I feel like I just got hit by a bus.
“Perfectly,” Ava says, her voice shaking like she’s close to crying. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking do anything. A moment later, the office door opens and Ava steps out, her head hung low, her eyes on the ground.
She takes a step toward me, but only notices me standing there when she damn near plows into me. I want her to hit me, hurt me, slice me with her words like I’ve done to her. I’m a bastard, an asshole, and I wouldn’t doubt it if she hates me now. She was telling the truth all this time…she was the one telling the truth and my father was lying. And continuing to lie.
Her head snaps up and our eyes meet. I take in her tear-filled green orbs and forget how to breathe.
My chest hurts. I fucking failed her.
42
Ava
He heard everything. I can see it written in his features. The shock, the shame, the guilt. He finally believes me…but it’s already too late. I don’t think I can forgive him for what he did. It took hearing the truth from his father, not me, to make him believe it. How do I let go of something like that? It’s not like what we had was anything special, not to him. He just used my body to hurt me, all while my heart bleeds for the boy I had cared for, the boy who was as close to a best friend as I would ever get.
“Ava,” he whispers, his voice somber and regretful. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”
I shake my head, tears slipping down my cheeks. It’s too late for sorry. Too late.
“I needed you, Vance. I needed you to believe me, but you never did, and when I needed you the most, you turned your back on me. When I was already down and thought I couldn’t feel any worse, you made certain I did.”
A sob breaks free from my throat, and it feels like my heart is going to burst. I can’t do this right now…I can’t. Pushing past him, I storm through the house, grabbing my purse from the entry table before running outside and onto the front porch. Glass shatters somewhere inside the house, followed by the sound of Vance yelling at his father.
Gulping fresh oxygen into my lungs, I let it build and build.
If he would have just believed me a few days ago. If he would have trusted me, I would have forgiven him, but now? It’s too late.
Unlocking my car with the key fob, I speed walk across the driveway and hastily get into the driver's seat. I crank the engine and back out into the road with my tires skidding across the pavement. There’s no way I can stay in that house anymore, not with Henry’s threat looming over me, or Vance’s guilt suffocating me. I need to go somewhere, anywhere, anywhere but here.
Where can I go? I could call Jules, and go stay with her, but I don’t want to involve her in my problems, plus I wouldn’t ever be able to repay her. Then it hits me… hotel. I’ll go to a hotel, the one in town at least for a short time. Until I can figure everything out.
The drive to the hotel goes by abnormally fast, even though I’m driving slow because I can hardly see through my tears that started to fall again. I park in the back of the parking lot and sit there for a few more minutes trying to piece myself back together again. Trying to put together the broken pieces enough so that I look like a normal person, at least on the outside.
When the puffiness and redness around my eyes finally vanished enough to make it look like I haven’t been crying for the last twenty minutes, I get out of the car and walk inside. I’m greeted by an older man at the reception desk who thankfully checks me in quickly. I swipe my credit card and he hands me the key to my room without question.
As soon as I’m in my hotel room, I fall apart. Sobbing uncontrollably, I crawl onto the bed and curl up in the fetal position. He knows the truth, I should feel better now, but I don’t. Instead I feel worse, because he only believed me after hearing his father say that he lied. He doesn’t trust me, he never did, and he probably never will. I don’t know why I’m so hurt
by that fact. Maybe because I trusted him, I believed in him and all he did was hurt me in return. I took comfort in his touch while he took comfort in my pain. I guess I’m partly to blame because a tiny part of me had hoped that maybe, just maybe, something would come from me sharing the truth with him, from letting him have a tiny piece of me.
I think back on what Henry said, he threatened to cut my mom off and leave us out on the street penniless. I didn’t tell Vance anything, but he still found out. What will Henry do now? Was he really planning to divorce my mom over this? Did he ever love her at all? So many questions. One more worrisome than the next. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do next, all I know is that my life is a complete mess.
A loud knocking drags me out of my restless sleep, and I sit up, gazing around the room disoriented. For a moment I forget where I am and how I got here. My eyes are so puffy I have to pry them open. I try and swallow, but my throat is so dry it feels like I’ve swallowed a handful of sand. When the incessant knocking doesn’t go away, I force myself out of bed and stumble to the door. I feel like I’m hungover but without having had a drop of alcohol.
When I reach the door, my gaze drops to my lower half. The events from last night were a complete blur but apparently I had fallen asleep on the bed without changing. Shrug. I don’t care, not about anything right now.
Whoever is on the other side of that door doesn’t need to know that. Straightening, I hold my head up high and grab onto the door handle, twisting, and pulling it open.
“Ava…” My mother's voice fills the room right as she pushes inside the room and throws her arms around me, pulling me into her chest. I’m taken back by her presence and just stand there motionless until her warmth seeps into me and her perfume overwhelms my senses. Then I give into her, holding onto her like a small child.
“What happened?” she gasps. “I was looking everywhere for you and only found you when I checked your credit card statement. Why are you at a hotel?” she asks, guiding me back toward the bed. Releasing me, she turned and closed the door behind her before coming back over to where I was sitting.