He grimaces, holding his teeth clenched together as he shakes his head.
“Maybe. Probably. I don’t know. But I’m worried enough to be afraid for you.”
“For both of us,” I add, and he shakes his head yet again.
“For you, Little Sister. The guys here are wary of getting involved because they’re still at least somewhat afraid of me. That, and they aren’t sure whether Parrish is coming back yet. They’re hesitating. They won’t touch you. But the girls? Clearly, they’re after you for one reason or another—and I doubt the cars or the fire have much to do with that. I smell Slayer all over this.”
“Jesus, wolf packs,” I murmur, and Chasm gives me a look, one pretty brow raised. “What? In the wild, female wolves control other females. Males control males. I’m simply making a comparison.”
“You learn that from Danyella, too?” he quips, his voice harsh with annoyance toward her. I can’t very well tell him that no, I read way too many werewolf and shifter books to be considered healthy or sane. I shrug nonchalantly. “Speaking of, stop trying to make friends with them.” He slaps one hand into the other for emphasis. “When someone fucks you over, you stop associating with them. You don’t invite them to your birthday party and bake cupcakes.”
I give him a look since, you know, he’s being a snarky dick.
“You’re too nice,” he mumbles eventually, glancing away from me. “Not that I could tell when I first met you.” He turns back to me and then slips out of his blazer, chucking it over the other sink before unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and pushing the sleeves back so that I can see his tattooed forearms. Chasm points at me. “You’re the exact opposite of me. You pretend to be all snippy and smart-mouthed, but really, you’re way too nice. It’s lucky that I’m here to help you with that. Like I said, let me be the villain.”
“I can’t believe you told me to run and leave you behind. Like I was going to let you get stabbed.”
“Did you have another plan?” he asks dryly. “Get your phone out and hit the emergency call button before one of the twelve girls standing in front of us tried to stab you? Fight them off with me? Outrun them? You needed a distraction; I was going to give you one.”
I see now why he and Maxx were so annoyed at the way I tried to sacrifice myself without talking to them; it is kind of annoying.
“I will never leave you behind,” I tell him, and he sighs heavily. The deep breath causes his chest to rise and fall in such a way that my eyes are drawn to his ink, just barely peeking out from beneath the black shirt. Just enough to be tantalizing. I lift my eyes to his face, but he’s already smirking at me. He knows where I was looking and why. “Um, Parrish told me once that you gave him some of his ink. I didn’t know you tattooed also?”
“Was that before, during, or after sex?” Chasm asks dryly, pointing at his chest. “I just can’t see you getting the chance to examine his ink so intimately prior to that.”
“You’re not answering my question,” I warn him as he removes his tie with an exhausted sigh. He stuffs it in his pocket, letting the end dangle out the way he always does, and then lets his head fall back. I reach up and brush yellow and black hair from his forehead, and he cracks a single lid to stare at me.
“We almost got shanked by twelve pleated-skirt wearing assholes, and you’re worried about when and how I did some of Parrish’s tattoos? Consider yourself doubly lucky to have me.”
“Some of them were wearing pants,” I correct, and he snorts at me.
He moves so quickly that I don’t quite register what he’s doing until he’s spun us around and is lifting me onto the edge of the sink. Fortunately for us that this school is old, and the sink is a cast-iron pedestal. It’s probably bomb proof; it can definitely hold my ass up.
Speaking of, Chasm’s hands slide around me, squeezing my cheeks on either side as he leans in close, putting the tip of his nose right up against mine.
“This is exactly why slacks were a terrible choice,” he whispers, closing his eyes as he grinds his pelvis into me and I hook my ankles together behind him, brushing the heels of my feet over his ass. If he’s groping me, I might as well return the favor.
“This is why I wore the pants,” I reiterate. “To keep us from getting distracted.”
“It’s lunchtime. What can we do? Certainly not eat anything in this godforsaken shithole. Can’t risk going to the hedge maze by ourselves. Can’t leave. We have an extra thirty minutes to play with.” Chas reaches a hand between us, unbuttoning and unzipping my slacks.
I try to choke out a rebuttal, but as soon as his fingers glide across the front of my panties, I’m not even sure what my name is anymore.
“Tell me about Maxx,” he says, his voice low and dark. “A rundown. I want to know what you did with him.”
“Chas,” I breathe, squirming against his hand as I curl my own over his shoulders, digging my fingertips in hard. “I can’t talk like this.”
“Too bad,” he says, and then he slips a single finger into me and we both groan. “Tell me.”
“Kissing,” I pant as he slowly moves his finger inside of me. “Missionary.”
Chasm makes a growl of frustration and adds a second finger, making my sore body stretch just a little. The feeling is exquisite, but also torturous; somehow both things are possible.
“Doggy style. Hair pulling. Fingering.”
“Holy shit,” Chasm snarls, and then he’s pulling his fingers out and grabbing my slacks. He yanks them down my legs, letting them dangle off of one ankle. He doesn’t, however, remove my panties. “That annoys me.”
“Why?” I ask, even though I can figure out about a million reasons on my own; I just want to hear him say it.
“Are you still on your period?” he asks, and I nod. He makes a face, and then shakes his head, sliding a condom from the pocket of his blazer. Why am I not surprised to see that he brought one with him? “Maxx got some milestones that I wanted.” Chasm points at me. “I want to be the first person to go down on you.”
My cheeks flush, and I flick my tongue against the corner of my mouth in thought.
“Should I return the favor?” I ask, and Chasm shudders.
“Don’t tease me like that,” he whispers, undoing his slacks. My eyes trail down, watching as he frees himself and slides the condom on, chucking the wrapper into the metal trash can embedded in the wall to his left. He steps close to me, pressing our bodies together but not entering me. “If we find Parrish today, I know this is all over between us.”
His voice is a dark whisper, too melancholy for me to not be impacted by it.
My heart aches, and I throw my arms around his neck, pressing my face into the warm hollow between his neck and shoulder.
Don’t get me wrong: I would literally cut my pinkie off if it meant saving Parrish right now.
But that doesn’t mean I won’t miss Chasm. That I’ll always miss Chasm. And Maxx …
Nope. Can’t think about that part. This is bad enough.
“But just in case we have the time or whatever,” Chasm adds, exhaling and making my hair flutter. He pulls back and grabs my face between his hands. “I was so jealous of Maxx that I spent the time waiting for your call throwing up. My stomach wouldn’t settle; I paced; I couldn’t sleep.”
My heart softens and I reach up, wrapping my hands over his and staring into his eyes.
This is goodbye sex? Maybe. I mean … hopefully? Because I want to find Parrish today. I believe we can. Meeting Justin gave me a lot of insight into his motives. He wants me to like him; he truly has set up a game that I can win.
“I’m so sorry, Kwang-seon,” I tell him, but he just shakes his head, sliding his fingers into my hair and pressing his mouth to mine. Softly at first, but with increasing intensity, until his tongue is delving between my lips and commanding my own.
Our pelvises move together, but he stays pressed flush against the outside of me. The feel of him is maddening; I need that sensation of us coming togeth
er.
Instead, he takes his time, sliding his hand up and under my shirt. Rather than taking my bra off, he yanks the cup down and massages my breast with strong fingers. His thumb grazes my nipple, and I gasp, the sound lost between our slanted lips.
“Want to learn something in Korean?” he asks me, and then he tips his mouth to my ear and murmurs a phrase that has my entire body rippling with pleasure. I don’t know what it means, exactly, but then he laughs, his lips still pressed to my ear. Chasm flicks his tongue out and traces the shell of it, making me writhe against him some more in need. “Want to know what it means?”
“I do,” I breathe, and he runs his tongue down the side of my neck.
“It means: I want you so bad that it isn’t even want anymore; it’s need.”
Chasm reaches between us, adjusting himself so that he’s at my opening. He locks eyes with me as he pushes my panties aside and slides in, making my toes curl the same way they did last night.
“Mm.” He makes that sound, and it kills me. It isn’t English or Korean, just male. The sound of it makes me thrust my hips forward, bringing us closer together. “Naekkeo,” he mutters obstinately, and then he puts his mouth against the side of my throat, right over my pulse.
When I first saw Kwang-seon McKenna crouched at the side of the pool that day, I thought he looked like a hot vampire in a romance novel. Now, he does his best to prove to me that he’s willing to play along, biting me just hard enough that I gasp, digging my fingers into his back.
He bites and sucks me in a way that I know is going to leave massive red-purple marks on my neck, and yet, I don’t care. I know what he’s doing. He wants Parrish back just as much as I do. Possibly more. I mean, I can’t imagine missing him more than I do, but they’ve known each other for so long.
But also, Chasm is marking me.
No doubt about that.
I decide to do the same to him, tearing his dress shirt away from his skin so I can slide my hands up his back, dig my nails into his inked skin, and then drag them back down. He growls against my skin, and then bites me just a bit harder. So I dig my nails in deeper to compensate.
Chasm moves faster, harder, his left hand digging into my ass. I wish the panties were just gone, although it does turn me on that they’re just haphazardly pulled to the side. With his right hand, he kneads and massages my breast, eventually snatching my nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinching hard.
I cry out, and my body locks down on him, making him grunt.
Back and forth, we bring pleasure to each other. Me, by rocking my hips and stroking my nails down his back. Him, by rolling my hardened nipple around and sucking on my neck—and by thrusting himself deep, pulling nearly all the way out, and then slamming in again.
The moment started off sad but very quickly devolved into something else.
We’re both angry, I think, but we don’t know who to be angry with.
Justin, for forcing this on us when we were both trying so hard to hold back? Ourselves for letting these feelings bloom and grow into a mighty rose bush, one that’s covered in thorns that make us bleed? Or the world for telling me I can’t be with Chasm if I love Parrish, too?
I’m not sure.
However it happens, the heat amps up between us, and Chasm ends up having to clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle my sounds when my body lights up like the sun, sunshine racing into my fingers and toes, exploding behind my eyelids.
I’m sagging against Chasm as he, too, moans and thrusts deep, using my own pleasure to get his. He comes while I’m panting and clinging to him, and then sags forward, his palm slamming into the mirror for support.
We both struggle to catch our breath as the stupid fucking bell rings.
Neither of us rushes to move for a second, pulling back to look into one another’s faces.
Chasm removes his hand from inside my shirt, reaching up and running his thumbs along the sides of my jaw.
“I want Parrish back so bad, Dakota, but I’m scared of how much this is going to hurt.”
“I know,” I whisper, and then we hold each other tight before rushing to clean up, rearrange our clothes, and rush to class.
Once again, I can’t focus on my schoolwork. But this time, it isn’t girls with knives that I’m wondering about: it’s the possibility of the impossible.
If that makes any sense whatsoever.
As surprised as I am to say this … it certainly does to me.
Period Six: Software Tools: App Development.
Huh.
I see it now. How clever. Justin creates apps; Mr. Volli teaches us how to make apps. Fitting. And so very poetic. It shows me just how detailed and precise my bio father really is.
“So we met Justin on Sunday,” I say, affecting false cheer as I stand in front of Mr. Volli’s desk after class. He’s such an odd duck. He wears plaid bow ties, has curly short brown hair, and adorable wide rimmed glasses, a smile that says good ol’ fashioned Poindexter, and a tendency for quoting poetry.
He looks up at me and smiles, unashamedly displaying Mr. Fosser’s walking stick in the corner of his classroom. It’s a dark presence in my mind’s eye, as if the object itself were emanating purple shadows. Too many video games, maybe, but I can’t help it. It looks like a dark wizard’s staff.
“Isn’t he lovely? I’m so sorry I can’t attend the launch party on Friday.” Mr. Volli adjusts his glasses, and then licks his lips, staring down at his phone and very purposefully flicking down the screen with a single finger. “Excuse me. I like to have dinner ordered before I head home, so that it’s on the doorstep when I arrive. I’m famished today.”
“I’m going to guess that the ‘hiking accident’ that landed you this job wasn’t really an accident at all.” I wrinkle my nose up as Mr. Volli smiles and turns his phone around to show me something.
I don’t know what I expect but I guess something more sinister than his Grubhub order.
“Free crab wantons with a twenty-dollar purchase. What luck.” He spins the phone to face himself all over again, and a chill skitters over me. These sorts of displays should make Justin and Amin Volli seem less scary, not creepy beyond all reason.
“You’re not listening to me. Fantastic,” I murmur, hitching my bag up my shoulder and heading for the door. Once again, I see Lumen and Danyella, and they both turn to look at me. I swear, Lumen’s eyes sweep past me toward where Mr. Volli’s sitting at his desk, and then she spins and storms off down the hall with Danyella trailing behind.
I catch and hold her eyes for much longer, but she gives no indication she wants to speak with me.
When Chasm appears by my side just a second later, he’s glaring at me.
“What?” I murmur, but we both know what. “There’s something going on there.”
“Mm-hmm. Something we don’t care about other than to stay the fuck away from them.” He grabs my arm and then glances back at Mr. Volli. “What is that creep up to?”
“Ordering Chinese food, apparently,” I say, my tone dry and laced with exasperation. But underneath, I’m a bundle of nerves and anticipation. The thought of actually seeing Parrish today, after all this time, fills my body with euphoria, like I’ve just smoked one of the joints Chasm and Parrish sneak when they think nobody’s looking.
My heart longs for more of those moments, with the pair of them laughing on the balcony while they smoke, taking turns to see if Tess might be coming. Except, this time, I’d like to be involved. I’d like Maxx to be involved. I hope that, whatever happens with the romance bits, there are no hard feelings and we’re all able to spend time together.
“Huh.” Chas shakes his head, but he doesn’t move me away from the doorway of Mr. Volli’s classroom. Chasm’s fingers on my arm draw my attention up to his face, and I subconsciously drop a hand to my neck. It’s a little sore, and I end up wincing slightly. He drops his gaze to my face and lifts a brow. “Too much, Little Sister?” he asks, and I glare at him.
“Pick a
new nickname, please,” I murmur, and he chuckles darkly.
“It’s too funny to stop using. I can’t help myself. I got it from Parrish, you know? He called you that once or twice, and then made himself quit because he was crushing too hard. Some part of me wondered if it wouldn’t help put some distance between us, but …” Chasm shrugs his shoulders, his heated gaze sweeping me from head to toe. “You are most definitely not my little sister, whatever I call you.”
“You’re such a dick,” I mumble, but he just laughs and tousles my hair again. I slap his hand away just as Maxx comes around the corner, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “You called for backup?”
“He called for backup,” Maxx confirms, casting a look around the hall in that way people do when a place was once familiar but isn’t anymore. He shudders slightly and shakes his head. “I do not miss this place—not at all.”
X’s eyes slide past me and over to Mr. Volli. By this point, he knows everything there is to know about this sordid tale, so he’s aware of exactly who he’s looking at.
“What if we just dragged him into his office and put a knife to his throat?” Maxx muses in just such a way that it isn’t hard to imagine him driving a kid to drop out.
“The Slayer would message us and say bleed him dry, and then clean up the mess. K. Thanks.” I snort and shake my head. “Not even a possibility. If anyone needs a knife to their throat, it’s Justin. But I’ve been in close contact with the man; it won’t be easy.”
“You’re not killing anyone,” Chasm declares, careful to keep his voice low as he glances back at the rogue teacher. “If it has to be done, I’ll do it.”
“We can argue about that later,” Maxx says absently, as if he, too, is planning on absorbing the true darkness of this burden. The two of them can bicker as they please—I actually find it really cute—but if someone has to do the deed, I just know it’s going to be me. “Let’s go get Parrish back.”
Payback Princess (Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer Book 2) Page 40