Filthy Little Pretties

by Trilina Pucci

  His fingers brush my collarbone, and my stomach caves in as my eyes close with permission. I press my fingers into the wood door, trying to keep myself from sinking further away from what I need to say. Reopening my eyes, they lock with his.

  “But. Friendship is all you’ll get from me. I’m done denying that I don’t feel something for you, but you aren’t the only person I care about.” Liam. I care about Liam.

  We stand in a stare down, inches from one another, heat rising and compounding between us. Grey searches my eyes, and the scrutiny makes me want to break and beg him to take whatever he wants. Consequences be damned.

  Have me. Ruin me. And then let me destroy you.

  I push against his unmovable chest, seeking distance, unable to sustain my bravery. “What do you want from me, Grey? I gave you honesty. I can’t not. Stop now. Please.”

  This scene reminds me of earlier with Liam, except Grey doesn’t budge. He closes in on me, bringing his lips closer to mine, and I could cry over how beautiful he is—so powerful and determined to break me, just so I’ll let him love me. He’s never stopped to consider that I’m undeserving of it, even if I selfishly accept it.

  He’s staring down at me as I look into his rich brown eyes that are a storm of emotion.

  “I didn’t ask to be the first kiss, Cherry.”

  His words are spoken so quietly and raw that they expose my guilt. He’s not talking about tonight. God, he means so much more than that. I take him in with my eyes, wanting to say a million “sorrys” because in another lifetime, if I’d turned out like a less fucked-up girl, he might’ve been my first, last, and only kiss.

  But I’m who I am, and I’ve unintentionally landed right back into what I tried to avoid. I’m turning men into villains and forging enemies out of friendships. I don’t know if what’s happening can be righted, but I do know he doesn’t deserve this.

  “I know you didn’t ask for this. It’s my fault. I’m sorry, Grey. I fucked up, ple—”

  “But I will be the last.”

  His lips demand as they collide with mine, and I’m pressed harder against the door. It’s as if all my reason, thought, and will is stripped away viciously. Everything inside me ignites, all my switches flipped on simultaneously, as my fingers dive into his hair.

  Our tongues tangle and twist, as our teeth hit from the desperation to devour one another grows. Grey’s hand sweeps underneath my navy blue sweatshirt, the rough calluses on his palms scratching my soft skin, and it pulls a moan from my throat. He growls into my mouth, gripping strands of my hair before reaching down to hitch one leg around his hip. Bending his knees, he gives himself better access, and grinds into my center when we line up.

  “Grey,” I breathe out as his mouth finds my neck. “This changes nothing.”

  “You’ve changed everything.”

  My fingers intertwine with his as he holds my arm above my head, the other still holding my leg as he sucks hard on the tender flesh of my neck. My nails dig into his back, matching the intensity that he rubs his hard length up and down between my legs, pulling tiny pants from me. Grey’s lips find mine again, and our heads twist, hands roaming as we dry hump against the fucking wall like wild animals.

  “Let me have you,” he groans into my mouth. “Give, Cherry.”

  With each movement, our need starts to beg us, coax us for more. We undulate and grind, with quiet grunts and sloppy kisses that feel violent as they quicken. Grey drops my hand that he’s holding and wraps his around my throat, pressing his thick cock against me.

  “Fuck,” I exhale against the pressure, “me.”

  Our bodies are shaking with the indecently rough drags we take over one other, eyes locked and mouths open. My arms stay lifted above my head permissively, hoping he’ll take what he wants. He moves harder and harder, wanting more of me as I scratch the wall with my nails. My hands drop and grip his shirt, stretching the fabric like I’m trying to rip it from his body.

  “Fuck. Me. Grey.”

  With an animalistic grunt, he presses against me so hard that my clit pulses, begging for more, as he grips my jaw and holds us in place. My hips try and move against him, desperate to feel the friction. But I’m met with coldness.

  That’s what I feel as my leg drops, and he moves away, flushed and rock hard, chest heaving as his eyes drift over my wanton body. He takes a step backward, wiping a hand over his mouth as my own reaches out for him.

  “Choose.”

  Grey’s words are gritted out between his teeth, and my thoughts delay, causing all my words to stick in my throat as I smooth my wild hair down, panting and breathless, my legs feeling like Jell-O.

  “Wait…what’s… Hold on. What are you doing?”

  “You want heaven, Cherry? Then you’ll go through hell. Fucking choose.”

  Bastard. My spine straightens with his sobering words breaking me from my lust. I shake my head, but he nods slowly, incredulously. My hand slaps against the wall, stretched away from me, as I pull myself sideways, sliding past the door. Reaching down, I twist the handle and pull it, letting it drift, opening wide. My eyebrows raise at Grey, and I let out an exhale, blowing my bangs up.

  “See ya, friend.”

  Grey doesn’t answer as he starts past me but stops to face me. He reaches down gently, circling his fingers around my wrist, and brings his other hand to the top of my jeans. His eyes lock with mine as my hips give tiny bucks with each button that’s popped until the sides fall open, showing the front of my underwear. He splays his hand over my taut stomach, smoothing over my skin, and my head falls back onto the wall as my eyes close.

  “No, huh?”

  I shake my head, staring at the ceiling. He dips his fingers a fraction below the band on my panties, gently pulling them forward away from my skin, and lifts my other hand, shoving it down. My eyes spring open as I try to pull it back, but Grey presses it into me, holding my fingers against my swollen center, and begins rubbing.

  A gasp leaves my lips as he leans into my ear.

  “I’m not asking, Cherry.”

  He turns and walks out of my room, leaving me alone, with my hand down my pants and aching for his touch, so I do exactly what he insisted with this little stunt—I go fuck myself.

  3:27 a.m. Damn. I haven’t been able to sleep a wink. All I’ve accomplished is tossing and turning, reliving every single moment from last night. Grey’s trying to force my hand, and Liam’s promising patience, but even that will eventually run out. I take a deep breath, letting it out and throw off my blanket. Snatching my phone off my nightstand, I swipe it open and go to the messages. There’s nothing from Grey and probably six from Liam.

  God, this is impossible. Choosing Grey means losing Liam. Grey would never share me, even the me as Liam’s friend. And choosing Liam means losing Grey because he would never stick around to witness his defeat. It’s that simple. There is no choice because I’m definitely unwilling to lose either of them, but I might anyway when they finally realize that loving me hurts too much.

  I scroll quickly, pulling up Grey’s number, but stop. I switch to Liam but have the same pause. I don’t know what to think about anything anymore. My happy feels like it’s disappearing before my eyes, and I just need everything to pause so I can figure out what to do and find my footing.

  I can’t hurt them if I don’t get them.

  The phone drops from my hand onto the bed, and I push it away as I stare at the swirly pattern on my comforter before I grab the edges of the blanket and pull it back over me, covering my head, and go back to wishing for sleep that’ll never come.

  Grey

  “WAKE UP, SLEEPING BEAUTY.”

  The dark silk black draperies pull apart from my floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing the light to fill the room and assault my eyes. I pull my comforter over my head, yelling obscenities.

  “What the fuck? Shut them.” Peeking out, I throw a pillow in Liam’s direction. “You’re such a dick.”

  He dodges it, laughing,
and opens the other wall of curtains as well. Grumbling, I stay hidden, but my bed begins to bounce and shake as he pushes hard on the mattress.

  “Get up, asshole. You missed workout this morning because you stayed awake wondering about a hot-ass little blonde, who has you sprung. And also, Caroline’s about to lose her shit on some planners who are downstairs for a mock-run for her party. Whatever the fuck that means.”

  I have to yell from under my blanket to make sure he hears me.

  “I didn’t wonder shit. You’re the one who blew me up all night like a fucking middle school girl, all tragic because she’s not returning your texts. Like I said last night, what about me not wanting to share her means you keep talking to me about her?”

  “Fuck you. Get up.”

  “No, and if you start crying again—”

  Liam laughs loudly saying, “Asshole,” as I pop my arm out and fumble around for my phone, jerking it inside the blanket.

  I’m secretly relieved Liam bitched all night; it allowed everything that was brewing between us to settle. We found our rhythm back. My whole life Liam’s been my other hand, just like on the boat, and for the first time we’ve found ourselves unable to work in tandem. It’s fucking with both of us, but we’ll handle this the way guys handle everything—we’ll ignore it until we combust or it goes away.

  I swipe open my messages under the blanket. Fuck. No messages from Donovan. I expected something, maybe even a message with fangs. But there’s nothing.

  “How long did I sleep?” I grumble, seeing that it’s noon, and roll over to sit up. Placing my bare feet on the carpeted floor and my phone back on my nightstand, I stretch my arms above my head. “All right, give me twenty minutes and we’ll eat.”

  “Did you hear from her?” he questions, taking a crisp bite into the red apple he’s holding. “I know you looked. Don’t try and bullshit me.”

  “No.”

  “So she’s icing out both of us.”

  I crack my neck and roll my sore shoulders, trying to hide how much I hate hearing even the insinuation that they had a moment.

  “Or she’s trying to figure out how to let you down gently…you are the sensitive one after all.”

  Liam lets out a laugh and walks toward the door as I look over my shoulder to see him flipping me off, grabbing a grin from me.

  “Hurry up,” he barks, walking out.

  As soon as the door shuts behind him, I relax back until I’m lying down again with my eyes closed. I feel the heavy drift taking over when a hard-thrown and very wet gut check hits my stomach, making me yell out, “Fuck!” and roll to my side, doubling over.

  “Who’s crying now, punk? Get the fuck up.”

  I throw the partially eaten apple back at Liam, but it hits the wall, shattering everywhere as he shuts the door again. Sitting up, I wipe the sticky apple chunks off my stomach, seeing the red mark bloom on my skin, and laugh. He’s such an asshole.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m walking down the stairs, dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a white T-shirt. I drag my hand through my tousled bed head as I take the last few steps. Liam’s standing at the bottom, his grin big as he holds out another apple for me.

  “Fuck you,” I laugh, swatting his hand. “But I’m starving. Grab the spare, and let’s get food. The staff could probably use the break.”

  As if I conjured a demon with my “spare” nickname, Caroline’s voice bounces off the walls as she makes her way through the wallpapered dining room toward where we’re standing.

  “What you call taste, I call trash. Please stop defending your choice and change it. Every time you speak, you ruin my birthday. Every word. The upcoming day ruined. Do you want that on your conscience? No? Is that a no? Why are you shaking your head that way?”

  Liam gives a small whistle like we’re in trouble, and I nod as we make our way over to her.

  “Caroline.”

  She holds a hand up to silence me as she continues berating the fool next to her. Liam takes her hand, pulling her agitated face from the conversation, and spins her around as he stupidly sings, dancing her around.

  “Get off me,” she snaps, trying to pretend that she hates the attention.

  I quietly dismiss whoever she was speaking with as Liam spins Caroline again, tugging her in and dipping her back. When he rights her, the smile she’s trying so hard to diminish peeks through. She faces me slipping back into the Caroline most of us know and well, not love, but accept.

  “Take me to breakfast, Caroline, or lunch, whatever. But I’m starving, so we’re leaving.”

  Liam tries to move her, but she bats at him, shaking her head.

  “I have too much to do. You’ll have to freeload on someone else’s dime.”

  I laugh. For all her snark, the girl can be funny. Liam slips behind Caroline and pushes, forcing her forward.

  “They could use a break, Carebear.” He smiles, motioning to the waiting staff.

  “No. Also, I wouldn’t be seen dead with you two dressed like you’re homeless. I’m beginning to think Liam only owns hoodies and gray sweats.”

  Liam grins at me, and I look down at what I’m wearing laughing, and shake my head.

  “Carebear,” Liam levels, “we wouldn’t want people resorting to spitting in the party food as payback.”

  She looks at me, genuinely shocked by the thought. “That doesn’t happen?”

  I pull our front door open, as Liam shoves her through, smiling down at her worried face. “I’m certain you’ve swapped spit with more waiters than you’ve fucked.”

  “I’m going to puke. Fine, I’ll go, but only for an hour. And I’m canceling the caterers.”

  Liam chuckles, and I follow suit as we step outside into the cool afternoon. The conversation is easy as we walk the few blocks. Caroline and Liam talk about a project they have due next week for a class they share, and I stay inside my head with my only thought. Donovan. It’s always her.

  I swear I can still almost taste her lips. Fuck, I’m in deep. Looking down at my phone again, there’s still no message. After how I left her last night, a small part of me worries that I pushed too hard and went too far. But I couldn’t fucking see straight. I wanted her to admit that she made a choice a long time ago, so that Liam’s chance never actually existed. It’s not good enough to be her first or last love. I want to be the only.

  My favorite eatery, Siena Café, comes into view as we turn a corner, and I grab the short iron gate, opening it to nab a table outside. The sidewalks are relatively empty, but even if they were full, the ivy-decorated overhang provides privacy while allowing us to sit out and enjoy the view. We come here so often that they know who we are. And not just our faces but our last names, which affords us some luxuries.

  I put my phone on the table, noticing only one other table is seated, and look up at the waitress. “Caroline will have champagne. We’ll have water.”

  She smiles brightly across from me. “Thank you.”

  I wink. “You’re paying.”

  Her giggle escapes her lips as she pushes her sunglasses on top of her head. Caroline knows I’m buying, but I would never ruin our relationship by copping to being nice to her.

  The waitress puts down a bevy of spreads and tiny squares of toast for us as a starter. Liam’s hand darts out, grabbing a spreading knife to make the small bites as he speaks. “What’re the big plans for your party next week? Did you hire Cirque du Soleil? Fly in Drake?”

  He pops some toast in his mouth and points at me before she can answer. “Remember when Max Steiner had his bar mitzvah, and his dad got those acro chicks.” He turns to Caroline and grins. “One of them let Grey and I see her boobs for a hundred bucks.”

  I laugh loudly, leaning back into my seat, watching Caroline’s face contort with disgust before I add, “The best part is that I stole the money out of Max’s dad’s wallet. He paid for us to become men that day too.”

  Liam smacks the table, still laughing, and Caroline rolls her eyes as our drinks are p
laced in front of us.

  “That’s criminally grotesque, but I bet there will be plenty of girls who will do it for free at my party next weekend.”

  “No interest. I’ve been through your friends.”

  I take a drink of my water as Liam gives a half laugh, eyeing Caroline.

  Her eyes narrow on me as a smile grows. “You’re more treacherous than usual. Has someone piqued your interest?”

  The blare of a horn sounds off in the background, and I glance out over the street before a smirk pulls at my lips over her salacious nosiness. “Yes, and I think it’s fairly obvious as to whom.”

  Liam leans back in his chair and stretches his arm behind Caroline on top of her metal chair. “But he has competition, so he shouldn’t be too confident.”

  Caroline’s head swings to Liam’s bullshit challenging expression and then back to me before she pretends to heave. The aggravation in her tone is accompanied by her irritated push to Liam’s arm, ridding it from her chair.

  “You’re both speaking about Donovan? I don’t want to hear your pathetic attempts to win her over. You know the whole school thinks you guys are in some kind of threesome.”

  “We’d never be that gracious,” I lie nonchalantly, and Liam grins, putting his arm back along her chair.

  “Whatever. You’re both out of your league with that girl. She’s not a cherry in any sense of that hideous nickname.” She turns to Liam and raises her brows. “You should forfeit because—” Caroline’s voice pauses midsentence as her attention swings back to me. “Then again, Grey may have the harder time winning her over.”

  Liam gives me a questioning look, but I shrug. “Why me?”

  She leans forward and folds her hands on the crisp white tablecloth. “Nobody likes to ride a sinking ship.”

  Fuck me. I should’ve known my failed tryst with Laura would make its way back to Caroline. It doesn’t bother me, and that’s a good thing, because she’ll have her fun regardless. Maybe now I won’t have to buy her anything for her birthday next weekend; my presumed humiliation will serve as my gift.