by Ella Fields
“College looks good on you, Cal,” Tara remarked, leaning in to brush her hand over my hair.
Renee had eyes in the back of her head, going eerily still before throwing a glance over her shoulder at Tara, who giggled and dropped her hand.
“Thanks,” I finally said. “How’s George West?”
“Such a drag.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear to God, everyone grows serious way too soon. No one parties like we did here at home.”
“You got that right,” Steve agreed, snapping open a beer and swallowing half of it in three long pulls.
Tara babbled on about her plans for a psychology degree, but I wasn’t listening. I wasn’t even trying to listen as I saw Mike stroll over to Renee, who stepped away from him like he had German measles.
“Back in a minute,” I muttered, vacating my seat.
Renee’s eyes were wide with panic as she saw me approach.
Something twisted inside my stomach, and I swung an arm around her waist. “Come on.”
“The fuck are you two playing at?” Mike whispered, eyes darting around the yard.
“None of your damn business, so fuck off.”
Mike chuckled, irritation clouding his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair before letting it slap back down to his side. “Really, Renee?”
I was two seconds away from tackling him into the pool when Renee smiled and said sweetly, “Excuse us, we have people to see.”
Mike scoffed, eyes hot on our backs as I directed Renee back through the crowd and inside the house.
“Where are we going?” she whispered and stopped at the base of the stairs.
I yanked her hand, and she followed me up them, waiting until I found a spare room. My blood roaring in my ears, I all but pushed her inside it, and she stumbled toward the bed. “Callum, what the hell—”
Flicking the lock, I didn’t let her finish, and really, I doubted I’d let her finish ever again. “Get on the bed on your knees. Panties off, dress up.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Her nostrils flared, but I knew she’d do as I asked. Knew she’d like doing it too.
Unzipping my jeans, I watched, palming my throbbing erection as she went a step further and took her dress off too. I stepped forward, smacking her bare ass.
Renee yelped, a red handprint blooming on her milky skin.
“I didn’t say take the dress off.” She went to turn around, but with my hand between her shoulder blades, I pushed her forward until her cheek pressed into the satin duvet.
“Wider.” I slapped the insides of her thighs until she spread them.
My fingers fluttered over her warmth. The urge got the better of me, and I dipped one inside. She moaned, rocking her hips.
I pulled it free, sucking her from it and pulling her ass back to meet my cock. In one thrust, inside I went, my head rolling back as her heat held me enraptured.
Gathering her around the waist, I hauled her up until her back met my front. My fingers gripped her chin, turning her mouth to mine as my other hand found her clit, circling it and pressing, repeating it over and over as I spoke. “Have they touched you here like this?”
“T-they?” she stuttered, eyes fluttering as I jerked my hips.
“Yes, they,” I gritted. “I’m not an idiot.” She tried to shake her head, but I held it still. “Do they make you feel this good?”
When she simply moaned, her thighs starting to tremble, I shoved my thumb inside her mouth, shaking her head gently. “Answer me.”
“No, you … only,” she panted.
My hands fell away at those words, and she fell to the bed as I gripped her hips, pumping mine until all I could feel was her, all I could see was relief, and all I could hear was her breathy moans and the wet smack off my balls meeting her slick flesh.
Fucking her like this unearthed all the good memories we had, obliterating them one by one.
I knew then that I couldn’t torture myself all summer, and I couldn’t hook up with anyone else without someone potentially finding out.
The need to come barreled through me, but I pushed it back and grunted out my next words. “This cunt might’ve been used by other assholes, but this summer, it’s mine. Got it?”
A whimper was her only response, and I stopped moving, waiting for her to reply. “Okay,” she said, trying to work herself on my shaft. “Okay, got it.”
“Summer only.”
“Summer only,” she repeated breathlessly, and much to my dismay, she tumbled over the edge. It had me following, and I groaned loudly, not giving a fuck if anyone heard. In fact, I wanted them to hear.
Tucking myself away, I watched Renee right her bra and pull her panties on before gathering her green sundress from the floor. “I’ll be downstairs. Find me when you want a ride home.”
Her eyes flew up to me as she paused, questions filling them.
I ignored them.
Mike was waiting outside in the hall, murder stamped all over his face as I threw the door open on Renee, who was still pulling her dress on.
I slapped him on the shoulder. Hard. “She’s all yours, buddy. But I’d give her an hour. She’s probably a little tender.”
Mike’s mouth dropped open. “Are you fucking serious …?”
Walking away, I whistled as I strolled downstairs, knowing that for all Renee had done, she wanted me too much to renege on our deal by fucking Mike again.
In swift, sweat-inducing waves, the heat of summer invaded, making our twice weekly meetups hotter than I’d anticipated. Part of me felt ashamed for letting him use me like he did. He wouldn’t kiss me and wouldn’t even fuck me unless it was in a position where my eyes couldn’t find his.
But I’d done this to myself, and I decided how much I could handle as a result of it.
“Darling, you really should do something about your hair.” Mom ran her fingers through the ends, sipping her iced tea next to me on the porch swing. “Split ends for days.”
Having Callum wrap the strands around his fist, tugging ruthlessly at said hair two nights ago wouldn’t be helping matters, either.
Yet getting a haircut was low on my list of priorities. And nobody was more shocked about that than me.
School returned the following week. A new year, a new start, yet besides the sex, nothing had really changed with Callum. Would he dismiss me once we returned? Or would he carry on using me as he saw fit? I hoped for the latter, even if it was starting to wear thin on my fraying strength.
The alternative, having him act as though I didn’t exist, wasn’t an option.
And that was exactly what happened.
No texts, no phone calls asking in a cold voice to meet him outside. Nothing.
Two weeks later, I found myself watching him walk to class with two of his football buddies. I hesitated for all of a second before I moved, almost stumbling on the pebbled pathway in my pink and cream wedges as I made haste for the science building.
“Callum,” I called, trying to slow my breathing.
He paused at the base of the stairs, squinting as the sun shined down on the beauty of his face. His head shook, then he turned to walk inside.
“Don’t you dare,” I hissed, not caring if anyone could hear. “What’s going on?”
With a jerk of his head, he gestured for his friends to go in, then faced me. “What do you mean?”
I blinked, unsure what it was exactly he was confused about. “Us. I mean, I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”
He raised a brow, a low chuckle leaving him. “Summer only, remember?” Eyes like dark chocolate raked over my high-waist denim jeans and soft pink T-shirt. “I’m certain I made myself clear,” he stated, gaze flicking to mine, then immediately flicking away. “So quit calling me, and Jesus fuck, don’t stalk me around campus.”
“You won’t last,” I said, my voice confident even though my throat burned. “We both know it.”
The withering look he shot me would’ve sent me to my knees
if I weren’t wearing three-hundred and fifty-dollar denim jeans. My lips pinched together as he swaggered inside the building and left me at the bottom of the stairs like the discarded toy I was.
Pens and papers filled bags as the professor clapped his hands, calling an end to the lecture. Everyone rose from their seats, and I did the same with a yawn that I tried to smother with my hand.
Outside, the sky was painted gray, and I hurried my steps, not in the mood to have my freshly washed hair tampered with by the rain.
I slowed my steps outside my dorm when I saw some of the guys on the team lingering on the sidewalk, tossing a football back and forth. Mike was leaning against a car and looked up, his lips moving into a hesitant smile. I ducked my head and kept walking, not stopping until I reached my dorm.
“… going to swallow it, aren’t you? Good girl,” a familiar voice groaned through my dorm room door, which was sitting slightly ajar.
My heart slammed painfully, beating so hard I thought it’d bruise my chest cavity. Bile filled my throat, yet I still pushed the door open, still watched as Callum’s eyes hit mine, then his head fell back against the wall by my bed, and he came down Hannah’s throat.
Hannah swallowed, leaning back on her knees to wipe her lips as Callum put his softening cock away and zipped up his jeans. “Thanks,” he said, chucking her under the chin, then moving for the door.
I didn’t move, could hardly breathe, which forced him to squeeze by me, giving him the chance to whisper, “Do not fuck with me, Mouse. You won’t win in the end.”
His spiced cologne filled my senses, making the urge to cry harder to ignore as I felt him disappear down the stairs behind me.
Hannah was wiping her chin with a wet wipe, grimacing with wide eyes as I stepped inside and closed the door soundlessly. It was one thing to hear about him sleeping around. That was fine. I didn’t have to see it, which meant I didn’t have to really believe it.
I thought I knew my husband, but I’d been a fool.
“Renee, he came here asking for you. I-I didn’t know where you were, and I told him that.” Hannah took a long breath. “Then, then he just, well, said he needed to deliver a message.”
I raised a hand, biting my lips as I unpacked my textbook and notes from class. “Message received. Don’t mention it again.”
It wasn’t her fault she was attracted to him, and it wasn’t even his fault for acting out in such a way. It was mine. All mine. And I’d have to take it, add it to the pile of hurt inside me, and lock it away.
I’d have to.
“Girl, you have got to come to this frat party tonight,” Hannah said while dousing her hair and our room in hairspray.
I turned the page of the latest edition of Vogue. “I’d rather not. I’ve had a gutful of rich, entitled men.”
To say that things had been weird since I walked in on her with my husband’s dick in her mouth would be a whopping understatement. I’d expected remorse, apologies.
There’d been none.
Hannah made a tutting sound. “But they’re so fun, so sexy.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Your ex should be there,” she teased, no fucks given about what she’d done with him. Though one would think you’d use their name after swallowing their semen.
The word ex grated on my last nerve. It was true we were separated, but she didn’t know the half of it. No one did, and I wasn’t about to explain. It’d make no difference to someone like Hannah who took what she wanted, especially if she didn’t think she’d get the opportunity again. I suppose, in that way, we were kind of similar.
And I liked knowing exactly what to expect from her now. No more nasty surprises, thank you.
“I’ve had a gutful of him, too.” It was true. I’d tried talking to him, and when that had failed, I’d tried using my body to worm my way back to him, hoping that he’d eventually soften toward me. Nothing worked. “Stubborn man,” I mumbled, sighing and closing my magazine.
“He does seem stubborn,” Hannah mused.
I didn’t mean for her to hear or comment on that, so I shifted the subject. “Ever had a boyfriend?”
She puckered her lips at the mirror, turning her face this way and that. “Not one that’s lasted more than a week. Why?”
“Just wondering.” I frowned. “Why only a week?”
She laughed. “I guess because they want in my pants and I let them way too soon.”
“I’ll say,” I said, checking the time on my phone. Guilt gnawed at me when she didn’t respond. “They don’t try to get to know you?”
Hannah tsked like I was naïve. “I don’t want them to. I like my weekly boyfriends.” With a wink, she grabbed her clutch and made her way to the door. “Text me if you decide to come.”
The door shut before I could answer, and I spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at it as though it’d tell me what to do.
I hadn’t been to a party since we arrived back on campus. I’d taken new classes this semester, deciding to major in design and applied arts. The flexibility awarded to me was worth the hassle of filling out an insane amount of forms and almost losing my meager partial scholarship. Not that I needed it. Someone else could surely do with the help more than me.
I looked at the time again.
My fists and heart clenched at the thought of Callum spending yet another night surrounded by, and most probably with, a bunch of women who weren’t me. He couldn’t do that.
Fuck his warning. If he needed to let out his frustrations, he would do so with me. Lord knew I had plenty of my own that needed dealing with.
Thirty minutes later, I was weaving between bodies, my eyes hungry and my heart determined. I found him walking down the hall, thankfully by himself, and strode right up to him.
The loud music and bass sent vibrations through my body as I planted a hand on his chest and pushed him against the wall. “Renee—”
Leaning on my toes, and with help from my five-inch pumps, I snagged his bottom lip with my teeth, only releasing it to whisper, “Do you really think I’m just going to let you act like I don’t exist?” His eyes darkened, narrowing to slits. “Use and abuse me all you want, but you don’t get to decide when our time is up.”
“Really?” he asked, sarcasm heavy in the whispered question.
My hand reached between us, my fingernail running over the evidence of his want for me. “Really.”
His lips crashed into mine, and my heart sang with victory as he picked me up and moved toward the stairs. His teeth sank into my lip, drawing blood as we reached the landing. His hands gripped my ass, and my dress bunched around my waist.
A few catcalls followed us, drowned out by the slamming of the door that he pressed me up against. “Let’s get one thing straight, you don’t call the fucking shots, Mouse.”
I released a breathy laugh into his mouth, my nails scoring into his neck. I felt him shiver. “Keep telling yourself that.”
He growled, lips hard and firm on mine. I’d missed them, oh my God, how I’d missed them. So he could use them as a weapon too. I’d happily bleed out just to have them touching mine again.
Shouts and hollers from the party raging downstairs met my ears as I tugged at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin. Desperate to. He let me tear it off, then tossed it behind him. My greedy hands absorbed silken warmth over hard steel.
Then my dress was wrenched higher and Callum’s jeans tugged over his ass, my heels digging into his flesh as he hoisted me up against the door and sank inside me.
His lips tore themselves from mine, his hands squeezing my thighs so hard, they’d leave bruises, as he slammed me into the door, over and over. “You’re going to leave me alone after this, Mouse.”
My eyes shut as I chased the pleasure swimming through my body. “No.”
Teeth plunged into my neck, and I moaned. “You fucking will. We can’t keep doing this.”
I didn’t answer him, couldn’t if I wanted to. My orgasm came running, unleashing i
tself just as Callum grunted and cursed, hips stilling.
He withdrew from me so fast, I braced against the door, dizzy on unsteady feet.
I cleaned myself up with some tissues I found on a desk piled high with food wrappers and miscellaneous textbooks, tossing them into the tiny trash can next to it after. To my surprise, Callum was still standing at the door, pants done up and his head lowered as he dug his fingers into his hair.
I would’ve given anything to know what he was thinking at that moment, but when he opened the door, I righted my dress and simply followed. Something I was getting rather tired of doing.
“Hey,” I said.
Maybe it was the soft tone of my voice, or maybe, he was too lost in his thoughts to argue, but he stopped at the top of the stairs. My arm wound around his waist as we descended them, and he tugged his shirt down.
Something had changed. Something about him was different from the last time we’d been together. Terror coursed through me. I needed his anger, his hatred. His indifference would mean the end of everything.
That couldn’t happen.
“I love you,” I whispered into his neck.
He froze at the bottom of the stairs, and for a heart stopping second, I thought it was my words that made him do so, until I saw his gaze chasing two girls walking toward the kitchen. A blonde and a brunette.
Panic. There was something akin to panic in his eyes.
“Callum, what—”
“Not now, Renee.” He pushed me away, looking as though he was about to head after those girls.
With my heart threatening to disintegrate, I asked him, “Which one is it?”
His somber disposition upstairs made sense. It made sense if he’d found someone else. And the most laughable thought of all flitted through my brain… now he knew what it was to make a mistake.
Only, I was now the mistake.
“This won’t happen again,” he said before disappearing into the crowd of students in the living room.