by K. Webster
Her tiny palms push at my chest to get away but my free hand bites into her tender hip. A subtle reminder that, for now, she has limitations. And if she wants to be a crybaby, I’ll give her something to cry about.
“You’re an ass.” Her tone has lost its venom and is now accusatory. You were supposed to be my friend, her green eyes say.
I reach to her neck and tug at the string. The top of her bikini falls forward baring her small mounds to me. She lets out a sharp breath that immediately gets sucked back in when I untie the other strings at her back. The suit flutters to the pool floor between us.
“You need me,” I murmur, my attention falling to her sweet tits. “You need me to show you who you are. Who you can be. You need someone to hold the fucking mirror and show you how damn fiery you are.”
She bounces on her toes and for a moment I think she’ll hit me. But then her arms are around my neck and her lips are latched to mine. She kisses me with more passion than I’ve ever experienced in a kiss before. Wild. Unruly. Confused. Furious. It’s all rolled into one mating of two mouths. I let her devour me, even though I want to bite holes in her tongue so she’ll have no option other than to remember who she belongs to for every painful second. But I don’t bite her.
She fucking bites me.
Hard and unforgiving.
As if she’s punishing me for her pain and heartache.
It takes everything in me not to maul her. Not to grab her by the ass, shove her suit to the side, and plunge deep inside her sweet cunt. The only thing holding me back is her. In this moment she is feral and free. I won’t cage her in.
“Drew,” she bites out as she kisses me. “I hate you. You’re mean. I hate that you force me to look at myself.”
Greedily, my palms find her ass and I gently lift her. Despite her desperate kiss, she moves slowly as she finds the strength to wrap her legs around my waist. I know it’s painful. The fact that she’s pushing through gets my dick so hard I fear for the fabric that contains it.
“Someone has to show you. Someone has to fucking show you,” I grind out and take the bite of her lip I so furiously crave. “Take me out of my trunks.” My order is firm and not to be negotiated.
“Whatever you say, ass,” she snips back as she pulls from our kiss. Her hands go between us and she makes quick work of pulling me from my shorts. A small gasp is the only indication of her reaction to my dick.
“Told you it was big.”
“I’ve seen bigger,” she lies, her devious eyes darting to mine in challenge. Her virgin cunt says otherwise.
“Stroke it,” I growl.
Her hands each latch around my thickness. Up and down she goes. Unsure but determined. The speed quickens and slows. Her inexperience is a tease.
“Fuck,” I hiss. “Are you on the pill?”
She nods, her eyes quickly widening with innocence that I want to tear apart with my teeth.
“Good,” I mutter, my voice raspy and uneven. “I’m going to put my cock in you right now, Soph. Right here in this pool. I’m going to stretch you right open and make you scream.”
She swallows but then gives me one of the haughty looks she’s mastered. “Your neighbors must hate you.”
I narrow my eyes at her as my fingers sneakily make their way into her bottoms and explore her sweetness. “This is the first time they’ve been bystanders for the Dirty Drew Show.”
Two of my fingers push deep inside her cunt and she cries out. My thumb rubs against her clit in a promising way. A way that says later it’ll be my tongue quickly followed by my teeth. As if she’s the one wielding all the power, she quickens her strokes on my dick.
“I’m going to hurt you,” I vow, my eyes seeking hers. Another warning. Another out. The naïve girl ignores me. Brave as fuck she is.
“I’m waiting.”
I jerk my hands from her and push hers away from my dick. Then, I grip my cock that throbs for her and tease her clit through her bathing suit with the tip. She moans and slightly rocks her body against mine in a way that begs for more. I push the fabric to the side and begin easing inside her. It hurts. I can tell by the way her voice is choked as she tries to form words. If she were fucking some teenager, she wouldn’t have this problem. But I am her problem. I’m a big fucking problem. And it’s one she can’t solve. Only I know the answers and I refuse to give those to her.
Only solution she gets is my cock deep inside her.
With a brutal thrust, I drive all the way into her. Her screams are loud and painful enough that I’m sure in the next half hour, I’ll have Sheriff McMahon or Deputy Adair beating down the door looking for a murder victim. But as soon as I have her rightfully on my cock, I massage her throbbing little button of pleasure in a way I know will turn her screams into moans. Almost immediately she relaxes but then her pussy begins contracting in pleasure.
Our mouths meet again and we kiss hard. I hold her fleshy ass in one hand so that I can stabilize her while I drive into her. She allows me to do all the work and simply rides out what I’m offering. It doesn’t take long before I’ve driven her to the brink of insanity. Each time I know she’ll come soon, I back off, slightly. Her groans of frustration and the claws digging into my neck are orders. Orders to pleasure her or else. Too bad she’s not the one running the goddamned show.
I tease her and tease her.
Her pussy is slick with her slippery arousal.
Everything about being inside of her is better than I could have imagined. She’s tight and perfect and holy fuck is she sexy.
“Oh God,” she cries out. “Oh!”
That’s my only warning before she comes apart in my arms. Her core strangles my cock until I’m coming with a feral roar. Teeth and fingernails tearing each other apart. I’ve always been intense but I’ve never been with someone equally so.
My cum spurts from me, hot and furious, and coats every part of her insides. An animalistic claim. An unspoken vow. A promise to her that she’s mine.
She relaxes but then a sob wracks her so suddenly I get whiplash.
I grab her jaw and tilt her face up so I can see her glimmering green eyes. “What’s wrong, crybaby?”
“I…I…”
I start to pull out and she claws the shit out of my neck. “Don’t move.” Her command is harsh and brittle and terrified.
I recognize the flash of pain in her eyes. Her hip. Of course it would hurt after the brutal fucking I just delivered.
“Calm down, baby,” I murmur as I ease my soft cock out of her. “Relax.”
I tuck myself back in my shorts and right her bottoms. Slowly, her legs ease down to the pool floor. As soon as she’s out of that position, I scoop her in my arms and carry her out of the pool. I stride back into the house, Beast hot on my heels, and to my master bathroom. She whimpers when I set her on the cold counter.
“I’m going to run you a hot bath,” I tell her, my brows furrowed in concern. “What else do you need?”
“My purse. My medicine is in there.”
As the tub fills, I run downstairs and rifle through her bag. I pull out three prescription bottles. One is an anti-inflammatory prescribed to her. Another is a mild painkiller. The third bottle has someone else’s name on it. Brody. In that bottle, I discover OxyContin.
I grab all three but only take two of them to her. The two that are hers. The other bottle gets stowed away for now until I can process what it means.
When I bring her the two bottles, she’s so desperate for them, she doesn’t notice I left one. For a brief moment, I hope it is a mistake. That she simply has them but doesn’t use them. But then she’s plucking out three pills—enough to knock a grown man out—and swallowing them dry.
Fire blazes in my gut.
Pain sucks, I know this, but I hate how it’s made her its victim. A motherfucking slave.
I shut off the water and dump in some bath salts. The salts have helped me when I’ve worked my legs too hard at the gym on many occasion. She doesn’t protest
when I scoop her up again and ease her into the tub.
“Give me your bottoms,” I instruct.
As if it takes everything in her, she winces and groans, pulling them from her body. I drink in the full nakedness of her before stealing them away to hang to dry. I’m dying to join her but she’s hurting. Instead, I sit on the edge and take her hand in mine. She closes her eyes and allows me to kiss her knuckles. A thousand questions rattle around inside my head. I want to know everything there is to know about her pill routine because goddammit, I think she might have a problem. Looking back, I’ve seen her pop them like candy over the past several months. It was subtle but now that I think about it, too fucking often.
“What did Dr. White say?” I bark out, my voice cold.
“I have an appointment tomorrow after school. He’ll run the tests then.”
Anxiety clenches around my heart. The quicker we have answers, the quicker I’ll be able to help her get on the road to recovery. A road she’s going to motherfucking walk without that useless cane.
I wake with a start. A sweaty, quivering body is pressed against mine. Naked and curvy and supple. Mine.
“No,” she whimpers. “No.”
I run my fingers through her now dry hair and kiss her forehead. “Shhhh,” I murmur. “You’re having a bad dream.”
Her body relaxes but her soft breathing tells me she’s fully awake now. After her bath earlier tonight, she passed the fuck out. Three pills. Three goddamned pain pills. I’d watched over her for hours, panic threatening to choke me to death.
“What do you want to go to college for?” I ask, my voice a low whisper.
She stiffens. “I don’t know.”
“Well, figure it out,” I growl. “Right now.”
“Screw you,” she snaps and attempts to pull away.
I grip her throat and kiss her earlobe. “Maybe later, crybaby. Now tell me what the fuck you want to be when you grow up.”
Her laughter isn’t playful, it’s scornful and edgy. “Why does it matter to you?”
“Because it does, dammit.”
“Nothing. I want to be nothing.”
“Congratulations, crybaby, you already are,” I snap. “Fucking nothing.”
A sob catches in her throat and she starts beating the shit out of me in the darkness. One of her fists clocks me in the eye, making me see stars. I manage to pin her to the bed with my body covering hers and her wrists secure in my grip. I keep my weight off to her uninjured side.
“I hate you,” she screams, her body raging.
“Why? Because it’s too hard with me? Because I make you fucking work for it? Newsflash, princess, I’m not your prince charming. And unlike those pussies at the clinic, you can’t scare me away. I don’t get scared. I’m the motherfucker who does the scaring.”
She spits at me. “I’m not scared of you either, ass.”
“Good,” I snap. “Now tell me.”
Defeated, she sniffles and relaxes in my grip. “I’d figure out a way for others not to have to go through what I’m going through. There. Now magically find something for me to do with that information.”
I release her and kiss her sad mouth that I can’t see but could find in the darkest of night because it fucking beckons to me. A whimper crawls from her throat into my mouth and begs to be held. I kiss her and make promises that I don’t even understand myself. Silent vows. All for her. When I pull away, I stroke her sweaty hair from her face.
“You could do what I do. I try my damnedest to figure out ways for others to not live with constant pain,” I whisper.
“A handicapped cane-carrying gimp trying to show others how to be pain-free. Awesome. And totally unrealistic,” she seethes.
I grip her jaw, my fingers biting into her flesh, and kiss her mouth again. “Boo fucking hoo, crybaby. Maybe those people need to see someone who’s been there and done that. Maybe they need a little hope. How about you? I bet you could use a little of that hope. I saw the way your eyes lit up today. How you felt hopeful about the water therapy.”
She grumbles but doesn’t argue.
“But physical therapists can’t be drug addicts,” I tell her in a firm voice. “You can’t be a drug addict.”
“I’M IN PAIN!” she screams. “I am not an addict!”
Says every addict.
For now, she can use that as a crutch, just like her damn cane. But one day I’m going to take it all away from her. I’ll steal everything in her life that makes it simpler. I want her to fight for what she wants and goddammit I want it to be hard.
“I’m going to fix you,” I mutter, the fierce vow felt all the way down to my toes.
A sob escapes my beautiful broken girl. “I don’t think you can.”
“I need more,” I mutter to Brody as Coach Long scribbles formulas on the board with his back to us.
Brody tips his head at me. “Come over after school.”
Irritation bubbles up inside of me. I hadn’t noticed until I got to school today that my oxy wasn’t in my purse. I know Drew took them. Something about the hardness in his eyes this morning and the way his jaw would clench should have tipped me off, especially after our conversation last night.
I pretend to take notes while I dissect last night. We had sex in the pool. It was amazing but then I was in so much pain. I’m mortified even today that he had to carry me upstairs and practically bathe me. And then we had the argument over my pills in the middle of the night. What a mess. My phone buzzes and I discreetly peek at it.
Ass: I know you don’t have appointments with me on Thursdays but you should come see me anyway.
I glance over at Brody who stares at me. We sort of made out once at his house but then he made out with my friend the next day. The next time he tried to kiss me, I laughed him off and bought drugs from him instead.
Me: Appointment with Dr. White after school and then I have to do something. Maybe later?
The three dots move as he types out his response.
“Something a little more interesting than Calculus, Miss Rowe?” Coach Long deadpans.
“Ugh, no. Just my doctor,” I utter out. Not a lie.
His hard features soften. “Take care of it and then put it away.” When he goes back to writing on the board, I jerk my attention to my phone.
Ass: I’ll take off work early and help you.
I tense and shake my head.
Me: I need to do this myself. I’ll call you after.
He doesn’t respond back.
“Brody,” I grumble. “The oxy. I have the money.”
He and his friend Curtis both take another shot. That’ll make six since I’ve been here. The downfall of being friends with stoners. They’re always shitfaced or high.
Brody leans back on the pillows beside me on his bed and lights up a blunt. I’ve gotten high with them a few times but today I just want my pills and I want to go. The Tramadol isn’t cutting it today and is requiring double the normal amount to take the edge off. I don’t know who Drew thinks he is stealing the oxy from me. I’d fight him on it but something makes me fear he’ll tell my dad. Or worse yet, spank me like he keeps threatening.
My hip is a dull, achy throb today, even with the pills I’ve taken. The sex was fun but really wreaked havoc on my joint. If I could just get my—
“Try this,” Brody says and passes me the blunt.
I wrinkle my nose at it. “Not really in the mood.” And it’s the truth. After spending way too much time with Dr. White as he ran tests, I’m tired and hungry and sore.
“Come on,” Curtis teases. “Don’t be a pussy, Rowe. It’s a new strain.”
I take it and sniff it. “What’s so good about it?”
“Everything.”
With an eye roll, I take the hit and pass it to Curtis who’s now moved to the bed by my feet. The weed hits my system quick—like something slithering just under my skin caressing each of my nerve endings.
I’m still blinking trying to figure out what the hel
l is happening when they pass it to me again. I take another hit and I’m flying. Totally relaxed and carefree. Brody and Curtis laugh. I close my eyes and smile because the pain is hardly noticeable.
“Here’s your precious oxy,” Brody teases.
I crack an eye open at him. A pill sits on the end of his tongue. I’m grumbling at him, my eyes falling back shut when he kisses me. The acrid pill gets pushed into my mouth and I swallow it down. I can’t keep my eyes open and everything spins in a delightful way. Darkness steals me but I’m awake. I can’t see but I can feel. In color. The colors swirling are blues. The brightest of blues that darken to navy. It sets my soul on fire. Reminds me of him.
“Laced with PCP,” Curtis tells me, his hands massaging my foot. His words feel important but all I can comprehend is how it tickles and skitters up my leg like an army of grasshoppers.
“I feel weird,” I whisper, my voice high like an angel.
“Weird is good,” Brody murmurs, his words close to my face. It’s as if the words want to caress my flesh.
Brody’s mouth is on mine and he’s sloppily kissing me. I’m dazed but I know I’m disappointed. His kiss isn’t like Drew’s domineering one.
Drew.
A moment of clarity has me turning my head from Brody and fumbling blindly for my phone. Brody takes the moment to suck on my neck. With one eye cracked open, I dial Drew.
“Hello?” His deep, husky voice is enough to make me feel as though I could come just from the sound of it.
“Heyyyy,” I drawl out. “I w-was thinkinnnng you kisssssss me better than…” I scrunch my nose in confusion. “What’s your name again?”
“Brody,” he laughs. “That’s Curtis. Man, you’re fucked up.”
A bellowing on the phone steals my attention. “Sophia, goddammit, where are you?”
“Brody, where am I?” I question. My voice sounds like music.