“And looked who showed up in the nick of time - Brandon Eastman and Tatum Austin. Please join us on stage so we can find out who our king and queen are,” Principal Reynolds says, sounding relieved.
My eyes focus as Brandon escorts Tatum through the path that has parted for them. She wouldn’t have come to formal for me. I wonder what it is about me that attracts girls who are repelled by high school dances. But she looks happy. And beautiful in her short, red dress. I notice though, that the crowd seems more interested in what’s happening behind them. And eventually I see what they see – my brother…what the hell… with the most beautiful girl on his arm.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter as I stare at Presley. Her hair is pulled back in some loose, sexy up do. Her beautiful skin is glowing. Her doe eyes look bigger than ever and her fat lips are all shiny and look totally suckable.
But her body in that dress – god almighty. It’s strapless; showing off her toned shoulders. It’s fitted all the way past her ass- accentuating all of her insane curves- before flowing out at the back. It’s the same kind of dress that some of my old Hollywood girls wear. But it looks way better on her. And the color… the deep blue that matches her eyes… looks too good her. And she’s in heels. Sexy, black stilettos. Kill me.
“What the hell are you doing, man?” Brandon, who’s on stage next to me now, whispers. “Go get your girl.”
I come out of my trance and fly off the front of the stage, moving people as I try to get to her. I push the last guy to the side and then there she is- looking nervous and cute and so unbelievably beautiful I can’t stand it. I pick her up and she wraps her arms around me. “You came,” I mutter.
She smiles at me. “You seem happy about it.”
“Oh my god, you just made my life. I’m so happy you’re here. And, Jesus girl, you look so incredible I… I love you. I just fucking love you.”
“I love you too. And I’m glad you’re happy.”
“Are you happy? I mean, are you okay being here? I’m guessing someone dragged you here against your will.”
She laughs, “Yeah… your brother, Corey, Tatum and Brandon. And I think Summer was the mastermind behind the whole thing. And it was against my will. But your smile is making it all worth it.”
“The fucked up part is, now that I have you here, all I want to do is get you out of here.”
“I did not let those girls do my hair and makeup and put me in this dress just so you could mess it all up. You at least have to dance with me.”
“Yeah… you’re definitely getting danced with.” I set her back on the ground and pull her closer to me. I can no longer resist those shiny lips so I duck down and taste them thoroughly before kissing her within an inch of her life.
And then I hear my brother let out a loud whoop followed by one of his infamous ear spitting whistles. I ignore him because I’m kissing Presley, but then I hear a couple claps that quickly grow into a whole lot of clapping and whooping.
Presley pulls out of my mouth, glancing around her before looking up at me with surprise. “Are they clapping for us?” she whispers.
I shrug. “Probably. We are pretty awesome.”
“Wow. This is embarrassing.”
“But better than what you thought would happen, right?”
“I guess. These people are giving me whiplash.”
I laugh. I know a lot about that. “Fickle bunch of assholes.”
“Not all of them.”
“No, not all of them,” I agree, looking up at the stage where Summer is. And Brandon and Tatum. I can’t believe they did this for me. Makes me a little emotional. They really are excellent friends.
My eyes settle on Summer who’s wearing a smile that’s so huge I’m worried it’ll break her face. She heads to the side of the stage, descending the steps, before running to us. She wraps Presley in her arms and says, “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I know you’re probably mad at me, but thank you.”
Presley hugs her back and says, “I was mad, but I’m not now. Thanks for setting this up.”
Brandon hops off the stage before carrying Tatum down and coming to us. He slaps my hand and Tatum gives me a quick hug. Nate is standing with us now too, his arm wrapped around Summer’s shoulder, all of us grinning stupidly at each other.
“Excuse me,” Principal Reynolds’ voice sounds from the stage. “I don’t know what all the ruckus is about but can I have all nominees back on the stage so we carry on with our little coronation?”
“Go ahead, lady,” Nate calls out, causing the room to chuckle.
I look back to the stage now. The only people who are left are Jolee and two of her sidekicks. Reggie, Colby and August have abandoned it for our small circle.
As I look at Jolee some of my hatred simmers. She looks pathetic and I know Presley was right – she doesn’t have anyone in her life, besides her parents and even that may be a stretch, who actually love her. Presley and I on the other hand…
I look around again at the people who are surrounding me and I know I don’t deserve it but, god damn it, I got a lot of people who love me and with Presley in my life it all feels real. It’s something that’s tangible and I’m gonna appreciate it and hold onto it. All of it.
Principal Reynolds tears the envelope open with frustration. “Brandon Eastman and Summer Brooks,” she says with absolutely zero enthusiasm. I guess we put a damper on tonight’s festivities.
The room claps, Brandon and Summer walk to the front of the stage and Brandon reaches up and grabs their two crowns, placing Summer’s in her hair before shoving his own on. They turn to the crowd and he grabs onto her hand and raises them in mock victory. They’re both smiling and laughing. And I’m happy for her. I’m happy that the smile and laughter is real even though Brandon is holding her hand but isn’t hers anymore. I can’t imagine the guy that deserves her, but I’m sure he’s gonna be awesome. Like some sort of celestial being or super hero or some shit.
Angel, who is DJing tonight along with some chick who graduated with my brother, lets the music resume. It’s some fast paced weird synth crap that he’s been playing all night between the mandatory requests. I don’t know how to dance to this crap so while the rest of the room breaks out in their rave moves, I grab my girl and hold her close because this is where she’s stuck for the rest of the night – pressed up against me. Seriously, you should see her damn body in this dress. My hands aren’t coming off her. Not for one damn second.
I’ve had a lot of great nights since Presley came into my life. This wasn’t even the best one – that would be the night we had sex for the first time… or the first time I kissed her- but it was pretty damn close. Presley’s smile didn’t drop off her face, not for one second. And she never left my arms. And even the fact that pretty much the entire school was there couldn’t put a damper on our night. The two of us, surrounded by our giant ring of friends, were the center of the entire evening and if people couldn’t see that in order to get to me and Presley they would have to get through our posse first, then the reason no one harassed us was probably just because they fell under the spell.
Tonight was fucking magical if I do say so myself. My girl was completely spellbinding.
And I think it’s about to get even more magical. Because we’re home.
“That was one seriously crazy night,” Presley says but I’m having trouble hearing her because she’s stripping out of her dress. I stare at her in her heels, skimpy underwear and strapless bra. I would love her in anything, but the bras she usually wears are a little industrial and serve a purpose. This one is serving a purpose too – to make her look extremely sexy.
“We need to go lingerie shopping,” I mutter, my own clothes coming off quicker than you can say sex.
She looks down at herself and then back up at me. “I did feel kind of pretty tonight. Don’t tell Corey and Tatum, but I liked the dress. And this bra. I’ve never had a pretty bra.”
“Pretty’s a severe understatement, Kitty. You look abso
lutely gorgeous and unbelievably sexy. And I didn’t really like how everyone in that room was staring at you all god damn night.”
She laughs. “Did I make Nash Carter jealous?” she asks, stepping out of her heels.
“Don’t,” I bark like a total spaz. “Keep the shoes on and no, you didn’t make me jealous. Just insanely possessive. But that feeling isn’t new. It’s better, now that you’re my girlfriend, but you’re gonna be dealing with my greediness for a while. Probably forever.” She’s in my arms now, my hands all over her ass.
“It hit me tonight while I was in the middle of that gym, the entire school watching as I danced with you… I’m dating Nash Carter. I’m Nash Carter’s girlfriend.”
I smirk at her. “You just realized that?”
“It just became real. It’s weird with you – ever since the first time you kissed me…”
“You kissed me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Anyway… ever since that first kiss I just kind of felt like we belonged together. Like we were a thing. I guess I never spent any time wondering if you were my boyfriend or thinking the word or wondering about us… it was just a foregone conclusion – we were us. But tonight I felt like your girlfriend.”
“And how did that feel?”
She smiles at me, a blinding smile. “Perfect.”
“Nash Carter and Presley Knox.” I can feel the goofy grin all over my face.
“Weird, huh?”
“Actually, yeah. Super weird. Remember when we used to hate each other?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t that long ago.”
“How the hell did I get you to fall in love with me?” I wonder out loud. “It’s like some sort of miracle.”
“Slow and steady. And then… all at once. I fell down a hole I didn’t even see coming.”
“And you’re never getting out.”
“Nope. I’m pretty damn happy in my cozy little hole.”
“Presley…?”
“Yeah,” she says looking up at me with a dreamy expression on her face that I’m loving and yet, I can’t stop the words that I know will take it away.
“Can I please get cozy in your little, tight, hole?”
She grimaces at me. “Seriously, how the hell did this happen?” she asks, her pointy little finger nail indicating the two of us. “And yes… you totally can.”
“Thank you,” I tell her in all sincerity, laying her down on our bed.
I’ve never been more grateful for being allowed to touch a body. In fact, it’s always been the other way around – I considered the girls that were with me lucky as hell. I never thought to appreciate, or consider that I didn’t deserve to be touching, someone.
But Presley made me work hard for the privilege. Not because she was trying to make me work, obviously. But now that I have it, I can’t come up with a word that explains how much I appreciate it. I mean besides the fact that her body is literally a masterpiece, there’s the fact that it’s never been touched before. Not until I came into her life. And how amazing is that? How fucking lucky am I? And now, every time she lets me kiss her lips or feel her skin or taste every inch of her body, I literally can’t believe that it’s happening. I can’t believe how damn lucky I am.
And if that’s hard to explain, I don’t even know the language I would use to convey what it’s like to have sex with her. Her, letting me inside of her body, is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. She’s so innocent; everything we do is new for her. And she always has this look of joy and wonder plastered on her face. And all I can think is that it’s only me. It’s only us. I’m the first. I’m the only.
Presley is a free spirit which I wouldn’t have guessed. She works off instinct. She touches where she wants to, she tastes what she wants to, she’s completely liberated and un-self-conscious when she’s in bed with me. It’s all tactile and raw and honest and I love it. My god, do I love it.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think a girl would come along that would make me feel unworthy in the bedroom. But she does. There’s no one like her and if she ever leaves me- which I’m going to work my ass off every day to make sure never happens- I know for a fact I’ll never find anyone like her. She’s my perfect partner and I’m not whole without her.
And when I’m literally inside of her is when I fell most complete.
Which I am now.
Which means I’m in a completely different atmosphere.
And I can’t think.
I can only feel.
And all I can feel is us. All I can feel is her connected to me. All I can see is her beautiful eyes and her satisfied mouth. All I see is Presley.
I come and it almost kills me. My release is long and intense and there are about a hundred different layers of emotion involved in it now. But I can still see her. I can still feel her. And she’s all that matters. And, thank god, she’s just as lost in her euphoria as I am.
I stare at her eyes as they fight to stay connected to mine. I feel her fingers as they dig into my skin, keeping her here with me. Everything’s better with her in sight.
Euphoria.
It’s all I can think.
Her. Me. Us…. Euphoria.
“I love you, Nash Carter,” she whispers as I feel the last ripples of her orgasm leave her body.
“Uh... god… umm… gah… yeah…Presley,” I mumble stupidly. Which is drunk-off-Presley speak for I love you too.
26
It’s the last day of second semester and I can’t help but think back to the first day of it. My Lord how things have changed. Most of it good.
I’m in love with Nash. Which still sounds strange when I think it. I’m in love with Nash Carter. But I totally am. And he’s totally in love with me. He’s my boyfriend and… I can’t imagine life without him. Weird. So weird. But so true.
Jolee is pretty much out of my life since I’m still staying with the Carters and ever since winter formal, everyone’s on the Nashley train (yes, we have a couple name) and without anyone to back her up she’s no longer trying to make my life hell.
My relationships with Tatum and Summer are better than ever.
Angel and I still haven’t resolved our issues and he no longer sits with us at lunch but Summer, the peace maker that she is, is working behind the scenes to fix that even though she won’t admit it’s the reason why the two of them have been spending so much time together.
Even the divorce was good… I think. It brought my mom and I closer, gave both of us some closure as far as things with my dad go, and brought my mom closer to Nick. I still can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing. So far they’re just friends who like to flirt and I don’t know if I would mind if they took the next step or not.
I laugh to myself.
“What?” Nash asks from his stool beside me.
I stare at him, shaking my head. “Just trying to figure out if having sex with my stepbrother would be exciting or gross,” I whisper.
He rolls his eyes, a trait he’s picked up from me. “Exciting. What the hell’s wrong with you, woman? Sex with us will always be exciting,” he says loud enough for everyone in class to hear.
I slap his chest. “Can you use your inside voice? Jesus.”
“Please. Today’s the presentation on Presley’s personal refuge. What the hell do you think I took pictures of?”
My eyes pop out at him and my mouth hangs open. “Nash…” I warn.
“What? My bed with my naked body in it is your refuge now, right?”
“Oh my god,” I mutter, horrified.
He laughs and wraps me up in his arms. “Relax, Kitty. You’re the only one who gets to see me naked.”
On cue, Mr. Conroy says, “Nash and Presley, you’re up.”
I exhale a long breath and grab my folder with my photos in it. “You want to go first?” I ask Nash.
“Nope. Best for last,” he tells me with a wink. “You’re up.”
I don’t even fight with him. He’s probably right. I didn’t even worry about the t
echnical side of my photos this week, I thought the subject matter alone was pretty perfect. But Mr. Conroy and Harley probably won’t agree. And Nash is getting pretty good at the photography thing.
I hang up my four photos because I now have so many refuges I can’t fit them into three photos. I look at them and smile before turning to my teacher.
“Okay,” Mr. Conroy says like he does at the beginning of all the critiques. “What can you tell us about your photos, Presley?”
“These are my places of refuge. On the first day of class when you gave us the syllabus, that word caused me all kinds of anxiety. I used to live in California and it was the only home I knew. There, I had a lot of refuges – my car, my room, the painting studio at school, my favorite table at my favorite coffee shop, the river in the woods behind my old house... But here, in Carver, I couldn’t find a place where I felt safe and could decompress. It bothered me. A lot.”
I turn and look at my photos now. “This is Nate, Nash’s older brother. When I’m angry or in a bad mood I seek him out because he’s fun to argue with and when we’re done arguing and all of my frustrations have been unleased, he puts me in my place and tells me what he thinks I need to do to fix my problems, and he’s usually right…and a pretty great older brother type like that.”
I smile at the picture of Nate before moving on. “This is Nick, Nash’s dad. He’s where I go when I’m feeling scared or weak. He gives the best hugs and talks to me until I know that everything will be okay. He’s not bossy like Nate, but he’s a really good listener and tends to make me feel safe.”
I can feel Nash staring at me but I’m already getting emotional so I know I can’t look at him. I move on with my presentation. “This is my mom. The friends I have are awesome, but she’s the best. And she’s my rock. When I just need to chill out and be myself, or if I want to have fun and forget about all things serious for a while, she’s where I go.” There’s so much more I could say about my mom; how she’s the strongest person I know, the one I admire most, the person who knows everything about me and loves me unconditionally… but my emotions are welling up inside of me and I still have to get through my last photo, so I keep it brief.
A Son of Carver (Carver High #2) Page 32