by Anna B. Doe
I shake my head, chuckling. “If you think that’s sex, the guys you were with obviously did something wrong.” My fingers clench in a fist at the thought. It’s stupid. She dated the varsity quarterback, of course she had sex. So did I, but at least I had better sex than she did. Girls didn’t leave my bed unsatisfied. Ben was always a selfish asshole, I don’t think he’s anything different in the sack. Still, the anger was buzzing just underneath the surface, barely tamed, so I turned it toward her. “Tell me, Callie… did you like to watch? Is that what gets you off?”
“W-What?” she sputters in surprise. “Of course not!”
I tilt my head, watching her carefully. Her messy hair and bright red cheeks. She looks flustered and thoroughly fucked.
What would it be like to sleep with her? Have my way with her? Get lost in her heat?
Just at the thought, my cock stirs in my pants. No matter what I think of her, my body still wants her.
Craves her.
Unable to resist, I reach toward Callie, tipping her chin up. My thumb slowly caresses her jaw.
“Then why did you stay there and watch?” I lean forward, closing the distance between us. My voice drops to a mere whisper. “Would you stay until the end? Watch me fuck her brains out against the shelf?”
“What if I did?” There is a glint in her eyes that I’m not sure how to decipher. “If it bothers you so much, you shouldn’t ‘get it on’ in public places,” Callie says, drawing air quotes as she throws my earlier words back at me.
“Then how would a little voyeur like you get her fix?”
This time I expect it when she lifts her hand, going in for a slap. My hand shoots between us, curling around her wrist and stopping her before she can connect it with my face.
“Not this time, angel. Not this time.”
“Let me go.” She tries to wrestle out of my hold, but I pull her closer. She collides into my body, her breathing hard, those luscious boobs brushing against my chest with every exhale. She glares at me, defiance written all over her face. Her lips part, tongue sweeping over the curve of her lower lip making my cock twitch. And then I finally snap, my mouth crashing over hers.
Chapter Twenty-Three
CALLIE
“Not this time, angel. Not this time.” His eyes are looking at me with such intensity my stomach quivers in anticipation.
His fingers are wrapped around my wrist, my hand stopped mid-air, frozen in place. His hold is strong, but not to the point it would hurt me.
Doesn’t mean I won’t put up a fight.
“Let me go,” I hiss, wrestling out of his touch. His fingers tighten as we struggle, and I lose my footing, falling against him, but his chest is there to catch me. My breasts brush against his hard pecs, my nipples reacting to the touch almost instantly.
I lift my gaze to meet his, my chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Those dark green irises lock on me, and then they fall down to my mouth just as my tongue swipes over my lower lip.
Something in the air changes. I can feel the shift in my blood. The air is sizzling with the pent-up tension that’s been building between us for weeks, maybe even longer.
A low growl rips from his lungs, and then Hayden’s kissing me.
I gasp as his mouth connects with mine, kissing me so hard it’s almost bruising.
Punishing.
Needing some semblance of balance, I plant my hands firmly on his chest. Even through the layers of clothes between us I can feel his burning skin. He’s emanating so much heat it’s almost too much.
He’s too much.
My fingers grab his shoulders, clenching and unclenching, only to clench again. My body and mind fighting for what to do. Pull him closer or push him away? It’s a constant fight I can’t seem to escape.
Do I even want to?
Hayden uses my moment of confusion. His hands are in my hair, and he pulls at the strands wrapped around his wrist, tilting my head back to get better control over the kiss. My eyelids flutter close. A sting of pain shoots down my spine and I can’t help a shudder that runs through my body.
His tongue expertly sliding between my lips and into my mouth, deepening the kiss. There is no finesse or consideration, just pure, primal need.
I return his kiss, unwilling to let him take more than he already did.
Letting go of his shirt, I grip his face, holding onto him. The scruff on his jaw scratches my palms, but I hold on for dear life as my tongue slides against his, fighting for dominance.
It’s hard, sloppy, desperate. It’s like he’s trying to punish me, or maybe he’s punishing himself? But at the same time, he wants to leave a permanent mark. We’re like two starved animals fighting to see who’ll come up on top.
I nip at his lower lip. As soon as his lip pops out of my mouth, he does the same. I dig my nails into his skin. He tugs at my hair.
It’s like we’re trying to punish one another for all the words we said. All the hurt we inflicted on each other.
But I don’t care one bit if he keeps kissing me like that. I’d rather battle the demons that haunt us with kisses than words.
My tongue meets his, slurping, swirling. I shouldn’t like it. It’s sloppy and desperate, but I do.
His fingers dig into my scalp, fisting my hair and pulling my head back. The kiss breaks, and almost instantly he latches on my neck. Tingles of excitement go straight to my core as his tongue slides down the column of my throat. Goosebumps rising on the sensitive flesh. When he comes to the end, he sucks the flesh between his lips and I know, I just know, it’ll leave a mark.
“Hayden,” I breathe, fingers running through his hair, and pulling him back, hard.
His heated gaze meets mine, tongue slipping out to swipe over his lip. “So fucking sweet.”
And then he’s kissing me again. It’s like somebody snapped a leash on his control.
Wild.
Completely, utterly, wild.
His lips land on mine even harder than before, if possible, and he pushes me back, my back hitting the bookshelf behind me making something fall. Not like either of us cares. His hands roam my body, like he’s feeling every curve of it.
“You’re driving me insane,” he mutters, burying his head in my cleavage.
His hands land on my ass, giving it a firm squeeze before he hoists me up. My legs wrap around his waist, his fingers digging deeper into my flesh to hold me closer and the change in position brings his dick right where I need it, pressed against my center.
He grinds his hips into me, the large swell of his cock rubbing against my very center. I can feel the heat pool between my legs, little shock waves going through me as his dick hits the right spot.
His hand slides over my ribs, cupping one of my boobs. My hard nipples aching for his touch.
I moan my protest when his hand continues its way down all the way between my legs. They tighten around him, but it doesn’t stop Hayden from slipping it between us and cupping my sex.
“So fucking hot,” Hayden says and sucks my lip into his mouth. “Is your pussy dripping for me too?”
I shake my head, refusing to give into him.
He chuckles knowingly. “I bet it is,” he leans closer, his lips pressed against my earlobe, hot breath touching my sensitive skin. “I bet your panties are all soaked from my touch.”
“In your dreams, Hades.”
He presses one of his fingers into my slit, thin material of my leggings and lacy panties the only barrier between us.
“There you’re spread wide open, with my cock buried deep inside. I bet I could make you squirm if I really tried,” he hums against my neck, nibbling at my collarbone. His finger keeps sliding over me, making sure to put extra pressure against my clit. “Want me to make you come, Callie?”
His crude words are meant to intimidate, but the only thing they do is make me want him more.
I shake my head no while my body screams yes.
“Should I bend you over and bury my hard dick in you? Or d
o you want me to fuck you with my tongue?”
Hayden applies more pressure, his fingers dipping into my entrance. My walls clench, whining in protest when there is nothing to clench around.
A shudder rocks my body.
What would it be like if he dropped to his knees right now, pulling my leggings as he goes down?
If I close my eyes, I can see it. My back pressed against the hard wooden shelves, legs propped on his shoulders as his tongue licks every drop of my juices, fucking my sex with his mouth.
I bite into my lower lip to hold in a moan. “You seem to be big on words, but actions…”
His eyes shine at the challenge.
Come on. Do it, do me, I beg him silently because there is no way in hell I’ll ever beg him out loud.
I slide my hands over his back, broad shoulders tensing underneath my soft touch. His shirt rises, so I let my hand slip to his hot skin, scratching it with my nails.
“You’re killing me.” His low growl has the hair at the nape of my neck rising. Then he goes in for another kiss.
Hayden’s body grinds into mine in tune with his tongue probing my mouth. I match him thrust for thrust, I grind against his cock. Hayden groans in approval, our kiss deepening.
If I thought before was intense, this is whole other level.
Just when I think I have him, I realize how wrong I was.
The kiss stops as suddenly as it started. We stare at each other unblinkingly. The emerald of his irises is almost completely swallowed by his pupils. Our breaths are rugged, and I can feel his heart thump rapidly underneath my palm, its tempo matching the one of my own heartbeat.
My tongue darts out, swiping over my pulsing bottom lip.
Hayden sets me down on the floor before taking a step back. My legs are wobbly underneath me but something in me doesn’t want to let him know that. Show him the true extent of how he affects me. How weak he can make me.
“Well,” he says roughly, his thumb swiping over his lips. They are all puffy and swollen, his cheeks flushed. His eyes dart over my body and I can’t help but wonder what he sees. “After all that pent-up tension, this was kind of anticlimactic.”
Wait… what?
I look at him like he’s gone mad. This is anticlimactic? The world is still shaking underneath my feet, every cell in my body vibrating, and he thinks our kiss sucked?
Every muscle in my body hardens when I face him. His mask is firmly back in place and he’s back to his aloof and nonchalant self.
My jaw tightens and I take one deep breath. I know he wants me to say something, his eyes are all but daring me to do it, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing the bruises his words left on me.
Rising back, the all too familiar walls in place, I lift my hand.
He flinches, the movement so small it’s barely visible. He expects me to burst, slap him like I wanted to do before, only this time he would actually let me, but he doesn’t know me at all.
I’ve been through hell and back. Some petty words won’t break me.
Instead I touch his cheek lightly, moving closer.
“You’re totally right. I’ve never been with somebody so…” I look down his body. “Mediocre.”
And then I slip underneath his arm and walk away.
This time, thankfully, he doesn’t follow me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
CALLIE
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to spend another weekend stuck in this room.”
Tilting my head, I look critically at the sketchpad in my lap. Rushed, rough strokes with coal form a silhouette of a woman. Dancer forever stuck with her toes pointed, hands extended, one toward the back, one up in the sky almost like she’s trying to fly off the ground.
Poise.
Perfection.
Eternal beauty.
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Would it hurt less if I said I am, but I chose to ignore you?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, puffing out a breath of air in frustration. “You’re going to get holes in your ass if you don’t get off of it.”
“My ass is just fine.”
Maybe if I add…
“Bedsores are not something to joke about. They hurt and stink AF.”
“You talking from experience?” I lift my brows at her, my eyes still glued to the drawing I’ve been working on. Nibbling on my lip, I make a few shadows with the tip of my fingers.
Her hands fall down to her sides with a loud smack, exasperation rolling off of her in waves. “Will I ever win against you?”
“Not anytime soon, but you’ve actually got potential.” I grin and it doesn’t even feel strained. When we’re not mean, bitching at one another, and when she’s not trying to pressure me to people, Yasmin is actually a pretty decent chick.
“Whatever, but seriously, you should come with me. I think even your grumpy ass will like this place.”
That piques my attention, if only slightly. Yasmin comes and goes as she pleases. Between her classes, work, and whatever the hell else she does, she’s more out of the room than inside it which works with my antisocial ass perfectly fine.
“Where’re you going?”
A sly smile appears on her face. “I guess you’ll have to get your lazy ass out of bed to find out.”
“Ummm… this is it?” I tilt my head to the side, observing a commercial-style building in front of us.
“Yup.” The P pops annoyingly as Yasmin bounces on the heels of her feet. “What do you think?”
I give her a side-eye. “I think I’m not impressed. Like at all.”
She laughs, but I don’t find anything funny about it. “Chill, it looks better on the inside. Come on.”
“What is this place?” I ask, reluctantly following behind her, giving the building another curious sweep. It’s quiet. Too quiet, almost to the point of abandoned. If I thought I did something to piss Yasmin off, I wouldn’t put it past her to bring me here to get rid of my body once she’s done with me.
“Welcome to Bright Haven.” Yasmin turns around and spreads her arms wide. “It’s a community center of sorts. I actually didn’t know there was one around here until a few days ago. We had one just like it back home.”
“So why are we here?”
Yasmin pushes the door open and we enter inside. The entry space is bright, a registration desk in the middle with a woman who looks to be in her early thirties sitting behind it.
“I’m here to apply for a volunteer position.” She shrugs, and turns toward the woman and gives her a big smile she returns. “Hi, I’m Yasmin, and this is my friend Callie. We both go to Blairwood.”
“Hello.” She beams at us. “It’s so nice to see more Blairwood students come here. I’m Susan, manager of Blairwood’s Bright Haven. What can I help you girls with?”
“I’d love to apply for a volunteer position. I was actually a part of the program and later on volunteered in one of your organizations down in New York City.”
“Oh, that’s amazing…”
They continue chatting about Yasmin’s experience with Bright Haven. Tuning them out, I look around. The decor is minimalistic, but still cute and welcoming. The walls are painted in the palest of greens. A couch and a few chairs sit in the corner. A water and snack machine close by. A few pots with plants scattered here and there.
I go toward the couch, ready to wait for Yasmin to finish. I didn’t know what her idea was when she brought me here, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to volunteer. Not because I didn’t have the time, God knew I had more free time than sometimes I knew what to do with, but I was far from a good place. How could I help others if I didn’t know how to help myself?
One good thing about living on campus is that everything is within walking distance. You don’t need cars to manage getting around, so when I saw Uber waiting for us in front of our dorm, my body went completely rigid, sweat coating my skin. I didn’t want to get in that car. It’s not like I haven’t been
in a car since the accident. I have, numerous times, but I got comfortable in the weeks since school started, my body reacting on instinct when pushed toward the uncomfortable and downright painful memory.
Yasmin noticed my reluctance, but before she could ask too many questions, I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other until I was seated inside, a seatbelt firmly in place while I was gripping at the door handle like my life depended on it.
So yeah, I was far from being fine.
Sitting down, I notice different pamphlets on the coffee table in front of me. Blindly, I take one, scanning over the content. Only to realize a few sentences in that it’s about the founders of Bright Haven—J.D. Shelton and Sienna Roberts Shelton—ex-football player and ex-supermodel who decided to dedicate their retirement to this non-profit that centers around building community centers which will help keep kids off the streets and out of bad homes while at the same time helping them with anything they might need help with. And judging by the short descriptions, it really should have everything; from basic stuff like food, showers, and beds to tutors and different organized activities to give these kids purpose.
“Hey.” I lift my gaze to see Yasmin standing in front of me. “Vanessa”—she tilts her head in the direction of the woman behind her—“offered to show me around for a bit. Wanna come with?” I must have made a face without realizing it because she quickly adds, “Or you can stay here?”
“I’m fine waiting.” I offer her a small smile.
“Sure thing, love. If somebody new comes in, tell them I’ll be right back.”
“No problem,” I reassure Vanessa and watch them walk away.
The overall quiet is interrupted when the door squeaks open as they pass through, but then there is only silence once again.
Sighing in relief, I decide to pull out my sketchpad, put in my earbuds and settle in to wait.
Just as I’m about to open a new page, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I look at the message and groan out loud.
Nix: Change of plans. My house. 3pm. You better not cancel.