by B. B. Reid
“How?”
“We frame him.”
* * *
My run-in with Trevor and remembering the day he propositioned me, sobered me up a little but I still stumbled up the stairs one at a time. When I reached the landing I felt the urge to pee so I stumbled further down the hall to the bathroom. Lucky for me, I found it on the first try and no one was in there. In fact the second floor seemed deserted altogether. I thought people usually occupied the bedroom for…stuff.
After using the bathroom, I made it to one of the bedrooms and pushed the door open. I dropped face down on soft blankets that smelled familiar and quickly passed out. If I weren’t so drunk I would have realized what I’d done. If I wasn’t so drunk I could have prevented what happened next.
The sound of the door opening and closing, followed by heavy footsteps across the carpeted floor jerked me out my sleep some time later. It was dark and I couldn’t make out much in my room but I could feel eyes watching me while I remained as still as possible and tried not to panic.
It was the scent of the bed sheets beneath me that gave the first clue. The scent was familiar and undoubtedly masculine and the sheets didn’t feel like mine. This isn’t my room.
“I know you’re awake.”
Keiran. Relief flooded my mind that it wasn’t some creep from the party and I released the breath I was holding…Oh, God. It was Keiran.
Panic returned full force and stronger than before when I remembered exactly where I was and exactly why I was there. I shot up from the bed and hovered by the headboard, pulling the blanket around me for protection.
His eyes flickered to the blanket and back up to meet my gaze as a mocking grin spread his lips. “What is that?”
I clutched the blankets—his blankets, tighter and closed my eyes, squeezing them tight. My knees were knocking together under the blanket and I prayed he couldn’t hear it.
“Is that supposed to protect you from me?” I could hear the sarcasm in his low voice coming from across the room but still I remained silent. “Should I come over there and make you talk?”
“How did you get in here? I locked the door like you said.” I thought I was safe from him with the door locked…at least for tonight.
“I have a key…and you didn’t lock the door.” I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. My heart pounded too fast and my breathing became short spurts of air. “Did you think you would be safe from me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel safe now?” His voice sounded closer and I realized he must have been standing next to me now so my eyes popped back open.
“No.”
“No, what?” he asked unnecessarily. I knew he wanted to taunt me. I could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice.
“No, I don’t feel safe.”
“Yet you parked your ass in my bed anyway.”
“I didn’t mean to come in here,” I said through clenched teeth. He leaned over his nightstand and cut on the lamp, creating a dim glow.
“I don’t believe you,” he said in a low voice.
“Look, why don’t I just leave?” I offered even though the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t going to let me go anywhere.
“Uncover yourself,” he said, confirming my fears. I clutched the blanket tighter to my chest, fighting the urge to obey him and let the blankets go. When he looked at me with angry lust all I wanted to do was obey. The question being, “is it because of fear or desire?”
His deep breath, cut in to my inner turmoil, and was my only warning before his fist was closing around my right wrist. He pried my hand away from the blanket until it was pressed hard against the unyielding headboard. The corner of the blanket that I held fell to my waist and I felt the heat of his breath and the smell of alcohol against my cheek when he leaned down. He’s drunk.
“I gave you the chance to make this easy. Playtime is over.” He yanked me down by my ankle until I was flat on my back and then he ripped away the rest of the blanket. It was the only thing separating us. He stood up straight and slowly lifted his shirt until it was discarded in a heap on the floor. “I want that dress off.”
It was becoming harder and harder to breathe. The force of his commands shook me to my core but somehow I managed to plead with him. He was the only one who held enough control to not let this happen. I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to. “Not like this, please.”
“Why not?” he asked in bored tone.
“Because you’re drunk,” I cried. My voice sounded desperate even to my own ears.
“Are you saying no?”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Then I don’t care. I’m done waiting.” He reached for me so I scooted away from his reach and he laughed. “You’re a walking contradiction, Monroe. Your eyes have been screaming ‘fuck me’ long before I told you I would but yet you resist temptation.”
“Is that what you call it? Temptation? It’s blackmail!”
He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. “Which only means you have a choice, and you chose my dick because you want it.”
“That’s not true. You just confuse me,” I said as I continued to scoot away.
“No more than you confuse me. The only difference is that I’m angry enough to make you pay for it.” The look in his eyes held me captive as I watched him. I guess that’s why I didn’t notice when he made it to the other side of the bed just as I did. He didn’t touch me when he stopped beside me. He just continued to stare down at me curiously.
“Please, you’re scaring me.”
“You should be scared because when I’m done with you there will be nothing left for you to hold on to. I’ll make sure of that. Now take off…the fucking…dress.”
“Isn’t there another way?” I asked even as the last of resistance slipped away.
“No, Monroe, there isn’t.”
I took a deep breath, nodded, and then slipped the straps over my shoulders. As I did, I wondered if he would be gentle or care that it was my first time. As I rose from the bed in front of him to remove my dress, my eyes involuntarily wandered to his chest and for the first time I noticed what looked like a scar just under his heart. It was faint which meant it must have been really old. I wanted to ask him about it but the voice in my head called common sense told me it was a bad idea.
I quickly looked down before he could notice where my attention was held. His boots were touching the tips of my toes and I felt small compared to his large body.
He never even kissed me. The thought was unexpected and I wondered if I wanted him to kiss me. I peeked up at his lips that looked kissable and perfect. I was so caught in a fantasy involving his lips and mine that I didn’t notice when my dress slipped from my body and pooled around my feet.
His eyes perused my body and just like downstairs there was no emotion or reaction. He barely acknowledged my near naked state before he said, “On your knees.”
“Don’t you want me to finish?” The blush that stole over my cheeks hid my surprise though I didn’t know what I was more surprised over – my question or the fact that he didn’t order me to continue. Then again Keiran was never one to be considered predictable and I already figured out that my brain was pretty much useless when I’m around him.
“Did I tell you to?” The arrogance in his voice and his distant demeanor was increasing my nervousness.
“Th—this is my first time.”
“So?”
“Shouldn’t you kiss me?” Shit. My blush was blushing.
“Who said this is your first time?”
“Well you said –
“I said I wanted you on your knees.”
“Yes, but –”
“So why aren’t you on your knees?”
“Maybe because you didn’t ask me nicely,” I snapped. I had to admit, his mind games were getting to me.
“Nice or not, the result will be the same.” At the look in his eyes, I finally sunk to the floor and felt the plush carpet under my k
nees.
“I’m on my knees now so what do you want?”
“I want you to finish what you started.”
I knew what he meant without having to be told. My eyes immediately lowered and I eyed the thick leather belt with silver skull heads wrapped around his dark jeans. The way his jeans fits him was meant to tease. They always seemed to hang just around his hips bringing attention to the deep v carving into his waistline and disappearing into his jeans. His erection was straining against the rough material, waiting for me to let it out.
I can do this…should I do this?
“You're thinking too much...” Keiran barked interrupting my private thoughts, “...and I don't trust your thoughts.”
I don't know what came over me when I asked, “Why?” I turned to look directly into his eyes. “Are you afraid of me?” I mocked him, grabbing on to what little fight I had inside. He was going to destroy me anyway. Why not give him a reason?
His stare, however, was overpowering in its intensity. His gaze pierced through my newfound resolve until I lowered my eyes in submission. I was soon kicking my own ass, realizing he just dominated me with a look. I also noticed that his gaze was clear and the realization that came to me had my heart pounding painfully against my chest.
He isn’t drunk. He knows exactly what he is doing.
“The seconds are ticking away in my head and if I get to one, you will regret it,” he said menacingly. Without being told I quickly began undressing him. I reached for the black strap and unbuckled it but in my haste I mistakenly slipped his belt completely off where it nestled in my hands. I looked up at him for reassurance but only found that his control was already gone.
The belt was snatched out of my hands and I was flipped, face down on the floor. The thick carpet muffled any sounds I made. I could see in my peripheral, his booted feet planted on either side of me. My hands were then placed behind me and then something was being wrapped around my wrists.
The belt.
The material of the makeshift restraint was tight and a cry of fear escaped my lips before I could stop it but I didn’t fight back. I didn’t tell him no. He would stop, if I told him no, but he would go after my aunt. He would kill her because he was cruel and knew she was all I had left. I saw my parents again and I cried for them. If they hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t be here and I hated them for it.
I also hated Keiran’s demons that constantly chased him. He lifted me by my hands until I was on my knees again in front of him. “I’m sorry,” I cried, the words catching in my throat. I didn’t realize that he had been walking out the door until I’d already blurted the words out. He was leaving?
“For what?” He stopped and asked a second later. I could hear the suspicion in his voice.
“That someone hurt you and made you this way.” I instantly regretted the words once they were out but it was too late. His heavy footsteps were loud and hard against the floor as he walked back over to me. I knew he was angry before he even spoke but I didn’t know how much until he spoke.
“That’s where you got it wrong,” he gritted and slowly unzipped his jeans. He gripped my hair in his hands and tilted my head back, slightly so he could look into my eyes. “I was the one doing the hurting.”
My lips opened on their own accord, enveloping his hard cock and I found myself once again gagging around him as he grabbed the back of my head and thrust slowly in and out of my mouth. His reluctant groan was animalistic as he gritted his teeth and tilted his head back. He seemed to catch himself quickly and lifted his head to peer down at me. I struggled to take all of him when the tip of him breached my throat.
“Don’t pretend for a fucking second that you know anything about me.” Thrust. “Or what I’ve done.” Thrust. “Or who I am.” Thrust. “The only thing you need to know is that I will destroy you.”
When he finally drew back, I sucked in the much-needed air but as soon as I managed to catch my breath, my lips greedily latched onto his cock again. I watched his eyes widen slightly in surprise before he narrowed them.
I kept my eyes on his and tried to take as much of him as I could and then I pulled back until my lips were wrapped around only the head. I stared at the incredibly long length of his cock in amazement while I suckled on the tip and ran my tongue up and down his length. I had no clue what I was doing; I just knew I had to calm him somehow. His hand was still in my hair but his grip wasn’t as tight as few seconds ago.
For a moment, I thought I had succeeded. For a moment, I thought I had won. It was the growl that erupted from his throat should have warned me but I was too caught in my own pleasure. I liked forcing a reaction from him, just as he’d done to me for ten years. It made me feel like I was the one in control. But that control, as imaginary as it was, was short-lived.
“If you’re going to suck me then suck me. Don’t tease my dick, Monroe. You won’t like the consequences.”
It was amazing how he could make me feel shame from an act that he initiated. I started to remove my mouth from his cock and save some of my dignity while I still could but he gripped the back of my head tight and pressed forward. I felt the tip of his cock touch the back of my throat once more so I opened up more for him but when he started to slide down my throat, I gagged and sputtered.
“I want you to remember this moment,” he said in a controlled tone while I struggled against him for air. “How I am now, how you are now.” He took his cock out of my mouth and shoved me back. “I want you to remember that there is nothing good about me and there never will be.”
I believed him. God help me, I believed him.
“You really enjoyed that didn’t you?” he snickered. “You thought you were pleasing me? Controlling me even?”
He was playing me the whole time. “Why are you doing this?” I could hear the bitterness in my own voice. He ignored my question and fixed his jeans. I swallowed nervously and tasted the remnants of him and felt a moment of disgust, keeping my gaze rooted to the floor. “You wanted this so why are you so angry?” I asked again.
“I’m not angry. That would mean I cared.” He moved for the door, intending to leave me tied apparently, but he turned back and asked, “Did you really think you could manipulate me?”
“No.”
“No?”
“That’s not why you’re angry.” My gaze lifted to meet his dead-on. “You’re angry because it was working and I did please you.”
“Well then that would be stupid of you.”
“Why?” I asked curiously.
“Because then I would be forced to keep you. And you don’t want that,” he replied, ominously. A loud crash and the sound of running footsteps and screams filtered through the door and then a guy’s voice could be heard on the other side.
“Keiran man, get out here. Dash and Keenan are fighting some guys who crashed the party. Shit is trashed.”
He stalked toward the door, shirtless and left as quietly as he came. To someone who didn’t recognize the signs he seemed calm but I glimpsed the rage simmering in his eyes. I was left on the floor still bound by his belt and helpless. Moments later the loud noise and screaming ended and the house grew eerily quiet and then all at once I could hear the sound of running footsteps again followed by screeching tires and cars departing.
I pushed myself up until I was standing. My legs were sleep from being stuck in one position. I licked my lips and immediately recognized the taste of him lingering on my lips and curious, I licked them again, before I realized what I was doing.
Some sick part of me liked the taste of him despite being manipulated. I tried to tell myself that I had no choice, that I didn’t enjoy being violated by him. But I didn’t fight him either. If I fought Keiran, I would lose one way or the other.
Chapter Ten
I thought about my journal. I needed my journal. It was where I kept all my pain and told all my secrets and it spoke of only two things—my parents and him.
I haven’t thought about that journal since la
st year when he went away and I no longer had anything to write about. The journal was old and something I kept to deal with the pain of losing my parents. I started it a year after they disappeared and Keiran’s bullying got worse.
The first entry about him was in the fourth grade after he got some girls to stick used gum in my hair and had everyone call me spit head at lunch. I locked myself inside the bathroom and immediately pulled out my journal to write. It was mistake but it soon became my salvation and way of coping.
Starting out, whenever a memory of my parents surfaced I would write that memory down and how I felt about them. It was something my aunt suggested I do when she couldn’t get me to talk about it. She said she would rather I tell a piece a paper than no one at all. I think that was the writer in her speaking.
Keiran had given me a new pain to focus on. So when I begin to write only about Keiran, the journal became a vessel and now holds every thought and emotion that I ever had for Keiran inside of it. It even expressed the confusion I often would feel from being attracted to him as we got older. I finally admitted to my journal of having a crush on him a couple of days before I turned sixteen.
The school year had just begun and I saw him for the first time in three months. He’d gone to some basketball camp that was sponsored by the NBA and NCAA for the best talent. The look he gave me as he swaggered down the hallway toward me was hot. I remember his grey eyes trailing slowly up and down my body as we grew closer from opposite ends of the hallway. Our gazes were locked the entire time and I couldn’t help but to admire the light stubble he’d grown. It made him look older and sexier, if that was even possible and just as I was passing by him, thinking he would spare me his normal dose of public humiliation, he knocked my books out of my hand and sent them flying along with the few sheets of paper I had laying on top. I didn’t react. I never did. I picked up my books and continued to my first class with my head held high and the anguish my heart felt buried in secret.
Keiran’s torments came more frequently and grew crueler that year. For whatever reason he seemed to despise me even more. I remember always being confused about the strange looks he would give me followed by a vicious, verbal attack. But we were on an entirely different playing field now. Keiran was menacing enough when unprovoked but now he actually has a reason to hate me.