I shrugged and pulled my bag up over my shoulder. “Yeah, I guess.”
He laughed. “I don’t need all the dirty details.” He held my shoulder firmly, grabbing my attention. “I’m just saying be careful with her. Okay?”
There was something hidden in his tone, some brotherly secret he wasn’t willing to divulge, but I heard traces of it in his words.
“Yeah, I got it. I will.” I felt like an asshole. Hell, I was an asshole. There I was stringing along a girl with whom I had no intention of actually dating. How I’d gotten through this last month with nothing more than coffee and study sessions and a few innocent pecks to the cheek were beyond me. It helped that she was knee deep in an anatomy class that didn’t leave her much time to socialize. But she was always willing to make time to see me. When I could see that she wanted more, I always made up some lame excuse about having to go home or about not wanting to rush things.
We walked out of the library together and he asked if I was going to Alex’s party tonight.
“Uh, I hadn’t planned on it,” I deflected and opened my car door.
“It’ll be fun. Besides, you don’t have class tomorrow. Come on.” I didn’t know what spurred his enthusiasm, but to be honest, I did have fun at the last party. Alex may be misreading me, but the sad reality was that Alex and Scott were my only friends.
How pathetic was that?
“Okay, I’ll go.” I gave in mainly because I literally had nothing better to do.
“Cool. See you later, then.” He bumped my fist before walking away.
Things between Alex and me wouldn’t last much longer. They couldn’t. I knew that much, but I hadn’t quite worked it out in my head how to break things off.
As I sat in my car, I tried to push down that part of my life and clear my head enough to call Dylan. We hadn’t talked in the last few days since he was away at some training camp. I’d been busy at my new job at the campus book store—a blessing in that it kept me from having to see Alex as often as she’d like to, a curse because it kept me from talking to Dylan as much as I’d like to.
I dialed his number and my hopes deflated quickly as I got his voicemail. I left a quick message telling him I’d be out for the night, but I’d hoped to hear from him soon, that I missed him. I hoped he’d be around later and we could actually talk. It’d been too long since I heard his voice.
When I got home, I could tell immediately that things were not good. I heard the screaming and yelling from the driveway. Mom’s cries were loud and cut right through me. I jumped from my car, almost forgetting to shift it into park as I pulled into the driveway.
I barreled through the door and was disgusted at shards of broken glass scattered all over the floor. “What the hell?” I said to myself as I raced toward the kitchen.
“Mom!” She was cowered in a corner, her arms wrapped around her waist, lost to a fit of sobs. I crouched down in front of her and she flinched when I brushed her hair out of her face. My stomach dropped when I saw the red welt of a backhanded slap blazing on her cheek.
My father stumbled out of the laundry room, which was at the back of the kitchen. Reeking of scotch, he tossed the broom at Mom and she flinched again.
Something snapped inside of me. Dropping my shoulder, I lunged at my father. He fell to the floor in a drunken stupor. “You asshole,” I roared down at him. He didn’t react; I think he was still surprised to have landed on his ass.
He tried to get to his feet, but I wouldn’t let him. I hovered over him, not giving him an inch of space. “Leave her alone. Leave us all alone. You’re nothing but a drunken coward.” Turning away from him, I saw Mom trying to get up. Her legs were wobbly so I held out my hand to help her.
“What the−?” I couldn’t get any other words out, because my father’s arm wrapped around my throat so tightly I could barely get air into my lungs.
He spun me around and elbowed me in the stomach, leaving me gasping for air. “Don’t you ever touch me again,” he slurred, jabbing his finger into my chest on each word. “This is between me and her.” He eyed Mom over my shoulder. “Get out. Now,” he bellowed and Mom placed her hand on my shoulder.
“It’s okay, Shane. I’ll deal with him,” she whispered as he stumbled away from us to go find his precious bottle of scotch.
Holding her frail arms, I searched her face for something. I just didn’t know what. “No, Mom. Come with me. Let’s get out of here.” Thoughts of finally being free from this hell flew through my mind at Mach speed. If I could convince her, then we could all get out.
She shook her head before lowering it. “I can’t.” Her voice wavered, a cry rising in her throat.
“Yes, you can.” I was begging, pleading with her to be strong enough for herself, for both of us, but she was slipping away. She wouldn’t look at me, grabbing for the broom instead to clean up the mess.
She didn’t say anything else. He had beaten her hope to a bloody pulp and I knew I’d be next if I didn’t get out of there soon enough. I just didn’t know how.
Throwing my hands up in angry frustration, I walked away from my mom as she cleaned up the broken glass. I didn’t know how to help myself; I sure as hell couldn’t help her. When I walked past the living room, I was happy to see my father passed out on the couch, the evening news playing softly in the background. At least he’d leave her alone for a while.
About twenty minutes later, I was pulling up to Alex’s, a knot the size of a baseball in the pit of my stomach. I’d tried to call Dylan a few more times on my way here, but he still wasn’t answering.
“There you are!” Alex squealed with delight as she jumped into my arms. A flash of pain laced through my stomach where my father had punched me, but Alex didn’t appear to notice. She nuzzled into my neck and mumbled something about having to wait too long for me to show up.
I dropped my arms from her waist, and without saying anything, walked into the kitchen where she had a small makeshift bar set up. I was already pouring my second shot of something clear by the time she caught up to me.
“Hi to you, too,” she said somewhat sarcastically, jabbing at my less than warm welcome.
Slamming the shot glass down caused everything else on the counter to shake. After the vodka warmed a path down my chest, I shot her a sneering look. “I’m not in the mood, Alex.” I didn’t feel like dealing with her. As I poured the third shot, everything came crashing into me all at once.
I hated my father.
I wanted to leave home.
I didn’t have anywhere to go.
I needed to break things off with Alex.
I missed Dylan.
Alex let her fingers dance up my forearm and I shuddered at her touch. I was too fucked up right now to be bothered with her. I stormed away from her just as my phone vibrated in my back pocket.
A picture of Dylan and me flashed across the screen. I stepped back out to the front porch where the music was barely above a low hum so I could at least hear him.
“Where are you?” he asked without saying hello.
Alex slinked up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist, muttering something against my back. She didn’t even see that I was on the phone. “Hold on,” I told Dylan. I pulled the phone away from my ear and held it against my chest as I turned to Alex.
She looked up at me all dreamy-eyed—and drunk, really drunk. “Come back inside,” she slurred seductively.
I rolled my eyes, looking up into the cold night sky as if the stars would offer me some kind of answer. I went with the Band-Aid approach. Tonight had been too much for me to deal with and I just wanted a touch of the truth in my life. That was waiting for me on the phone.
“I can’t do this, Alex. I’m sorry, but I have to go.” I moved to step away from her just as she grabbed my arm. My phone dropped to the floor as she started yelling at me.
“You can’t do this anymore?” She shot me a mean look of disbelief. “You haven’t done anything, feeding me scraps of attention lik
e I’m some dog or something.” She threw her hands to the side, huffing her frustrations into ribbons of steam in the cold air.
Sure, I felt bad for hurting her, but I had to do this. I had to end this and get away. I bent down and picked up my phone as she stormed inside.
I jogged down to my car and once I was inside, I looked at phone and realized the call had ended. Maybe it hung up when I dropped it. I hoped Dylan hadn’t heard anything with Alex. I could only imagine how it may have sounded.
Calling him back, he picked up on the first ring. “Hey, lost you there for a minute.” His voice soothed me instantly. Even though he wasn’t there with me, I could feel his arms holding me, his lips kissing me, his scent enveloping me.
“Yeah, sorry. The call dropped out.” I started the engine, embracing the fact that Dylan sounded like he hadn’t heard a word of what was said between Alex and me.
As I rounded the corner, I felt the effects of the shots I had. “Where are you?” Dylan repeated his earlier question and I looked up at the street sign as I pulled over.
“Uh,” I craned my neck to read the letters in the dark. “The corner of Elm and Spruce. Why?”
“I was going to surprise you, but since I drove past your house and you weren’t there . . .”
Sitting up ramrod straight, the fuzziness of the alcohol faded immediately. “When you drove past my house?”
His laughter bathed over me and I could picture his beautiful smile, lopsided and genuine. “Yeah, I came home a few days early for Thanksgiving. I thought I’d surprise you.” It was as if all my prayers had been answered. “Can I see you?” His question was a mixture of uncertainty and hope.
“Nothing would make me happier. Where?”
“There’s a Holiday Inn down off route eight.” I knew where he was talking about. A bunch of us rented a room there after prom and trashed the place. It wasn’t a five-star hotel by any stretch of the imagination, but it was clean and close.
And we could be alone. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Okay, room 104.” We hung up and I drove as fast as I could, without risking getting pulled over.
When I saw Dylan’s car in the lot, I felt like all was right with the world. Before I could even knock on the door, he opened it, looking hotter than ever. He’d definitely been working out and my fingers itched to move over his new muscles.
He reached out, bunched my shirt in his hand, and pulled me into the room. The door slammed behind us and he pushed me up against it. “God, I fucking missed these lips,” he cursed in between hard kisses.
His hair had grown longer too, curling at the nape of his neck, and falling into his eyes. I tugged on the ends, pulling his head back and attacking his neck. “They missed you, too.”
Dylan shoved his hands into my back pockets, kneading and squeezing my ass. “Too many clothes.” He groaned as I kissed from his neck, up to his ear.
Our fingers worked more steadily than I would have expected. Shirts were shed, falling to the floor in a graceful toss. We toed off our shoes, kicking them to the side in a loud thud. I pushed him back until the back of his knees hit the bed.
Running my hands over his taut skin, I groaned, “You’re fucking hot.” He smirked and titled his head away from me, suddenly shy at the compliment. “I like these,” I added, squeezing his defined biceps. “And these.” My palms rubbed against his rock-hard pecs. The roughness of his chest hair sent jolts of pleasure through my body, stopping behind the zipper of my jeans. Circling his flat nipples with my thumbs, his head lolled back as he grumbled my name.
Moving lower, I lightly traced just my fingertips over his six-pack abs and deeply cut V on his waist. He shuddered and my fingers followed the stripe of hair that cut a path down the middle of his flat stomach, descending into his waistband.
Pulling his mouth to mine, I kissed each corner, licked across the fullness of his lower lip, before plunging my tongue deep inside. We feasted on that kiss, devoured one another, breathed in the passion that came to life when we were together.
I worked at the buttons of his pants, stopping to massage my palm over his erection, which pulled tightly against the fabric. My mouth watered knowing I would taste him in mere seconds. His pants and boxers fell to the floor and his cock was hard, hot, and heavy in my hand.
“So perfect, Dylan. Everything about you is so damned perfect.” I stroked the base of his cock as I kissed him deeply, pulling his tongue into my mouth in the same way I intended to pull his cock into my throat.
Falling to my knees in front of him, I looked up, his dick jutting out to my lips. When I licked his length with just the tip of my tongue, his hand went to my hair; his short fingernails scraped against my scalp.
His knees buckled as his head passed my lips. I swirled my tongue over his wide crown and lost the tether on my control, pulling him deep in my mouth without any warning. “Oh, my God . . . Shane . . . your mouth . . . so hot . . . it’s so good.” He guided my head back and forth, fucking my mouth at a feverish pace.
After pulling away, I shoved him back so that he fell to the mattress. “I have other plans,” I said as I stepped out of the rest of my clothes. Dylan moved so that he was fully stretched out and I straddled his hips, rubbing our cocks together in the process. I reached between us and grabbed both of our dicks in one hand, my fingers nowhere near fitting around them.
He sat up as I leaned back on my calves. Somehow, we worked ourselves into a position where our legs were laced together, wrapped around each other, leaving enough room in between us to still touch one another.
His dick was still wet from minutes ago and he spit into his hand before rubbing it over my length. Without an inch of space between us, he fucked my mouth with his tongue as we both jerked each other. It was fiercely intimate and just so perfect.
I could only think of one thing more perfect. As if he could read my mind, he groaned, “Take me,” between heated kisses and rough strokes.
He twisted to the side table, reaching for the bottle of lube he put there. I held out my hand and he squirted some into my palm. Our eyes stayed locked in a heated stare of passion as I kissed him once more.
“Roll over,” grounding out my words, my need for him was bordering on the edge of insanity.
He laid on his stomach, stretched his hands above his head—completely and totally at my mercy. I moved between his legs, spreading them with my knees. Kneading and pulling at his ass, I separated the taut muscles to expose his hole. I stroked my finger lazily over the tight opening. “I can’t wait to bury myself in here. Feel how hot you are.” My hand was still slick from the lube as I sank my finger into him slowly. A passion-filled breath hissed past his lips as I pressed my chest up against his back, settling my weight on him. “How’s that?” I asked as I worked another finger in.
“So good. So fucking good.” He pushed back against my hand, meeting me thrust for thrust and my dick swelled against his ass with need. I slid down his body, kissing and biting at his back as I moved my mouth to his ass. I bit each cheek before snaking my tongue in the crevasse.
His hips jerked when I dipped my tongue into his asshole, licking and teasing him to a point of frenzied need. “Shane . . .” he called out, pushing his ass into my face.
We rolled to our sides, his back to my front. I coated myself once more with the lube. Knowing it had been a while since we’d last been together, I wanted to make sure I didn’t hurt him. He curled his knees up to his stomach and I rocked my dick against him, probing at him, needing him.
Pushing forward, I cursed as I passed the tight ring of muscle. I sank my teeth into his shoulder and he pushed himself back onto me as I sank further into him. “Dylan,” I growled, my balls slapping against his firm ass.
I reached around and stroked his cock in time with my thrusts. He covered my hand with his and moved us back and forth over his hot length as I worked my dick deep inside of him. The cheap bedspread chaffed against my thigh as I moved, but I didn’t care.
All I cared about was us.
Moving faster, harder, more erratically, I needed to get as deep inside of him as possible—needed it as much as the oxygen filling my lungs. “Ahhh . . . Shane . . .” His hand tightened over mine and I felt him come over our joined fingers. My own orgasm tore through me like a raging thunderstorm on a humid summer day. Waves of pleasure shot down my spine, pulled my balls tight, and poured out of me on one final, hard push.
Shifting my right arm from holding up my head, I wrapped it around his chest, pulling him closer to me. I breathed heavily into his neck, kissing him as my erection softened.
“Stay the night?” he breathed softly. It was more of a question than a statement. The last thing I wanted to do was leave, so I didn’t.
“Of course. But you’re going to have to clean me up first.” I laughed against his neck and he rolled over, facing me. He ran his fingers through my hair, cupping my jaw and pulling my mouth to his.
“There’s nothing I’d rather do.”
Chapter Eleven
November 17, 2007
Shane’s face was relaxed and almost contented as he slept. His full lips were parted slightly and his breathing was calm and rhythmic. But even when he was like this, I saw the dark circles under his eyes, telling me that sleep didn’t usually come this easily to him. I wanted nothing more than for him to open up to me, but he had to do it on his own. He had to tell me what he was feeling; I wasn’t going to drag it out of him.
I knew enough to see that things were clearly not good with his father, but there’s only so many times you can tell someone to leave or to stand up for themselves before it gets old. Besides, I think he had stood up to his father; it just hadn’t done any good. The feelings of helplessness that often pervaded my consciousness when I thought about Shane and what had become of him returned in full force.
He moved at my side, stretching his arms above his head, letting out a loud yawn-turned-groan noise that had me laughing. “Morning.” I smiled at him and he returned the favor.
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