by Chloe Walsh
"Fuck her."
My brows shot up, my poor heart leaping around in my chest. "But everyone at school said…" I let my words trail off, too embarrassed and, if I was being honest, relieved to say another word.
"Everyone at school has a big imagination," he replied, brows pinched together. "They were just rumors, Romi. It's bullshit. She's my rally girl – decorates my lockers and brings me cookies before a game –" he paused to hiccup before finishing, "That's all."
Yes! I hated myself for the tsunami of unadulterated joy that filled my chest, but Jesus Christ, yes! He didn’t screw the queen bee. Since the start of senior year, Blaire had taken my spot on the cheer team and with my friends; taking pleasure from my suffering. She, along with some of my former friends, Lola and Shauna to be exact, had consistently tormented me and I knew she was the one responsible for the graffiti on my locker.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I don’t spread my feelings around," he replied, eyes blinking open and locking on mine.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning exactly that."
"Well, I'm glad," I heard myself say, cheeks so hot you could fry eggs on them. "You deserve better than someone like her." I itched to ask him about the long list of other girls he'd been linked to in the school gossip mill, but I didn’t want to disrupt the peaceful status quo. "She's a bitch."
"I'm the bitch," he argued, pulling himself up on one elbow. "I could've stopped it. Could've stopped them all. I didn’t." Shaking his head, he pulled himself the rest of the way up and then stood. "And I ain't never gonna forgive myself for it."
"Where are you going?" I whispered, eyes locked on his back as he clumsily stepped over Presley's sleeping frame. "Sketch?"
"Night, Ro," was all he said, moving for the bathroom.
"Truth or dare?" I blurted out, losing my freaking mind as the thought of him leaving filled me with dread.
He paused in the bathroom doorway and turned back to look at me. "It's not your turn."
"I don’t care." Scrambling off the bed, I fell over Pres in my rush to get to him. "Truth or dare, Sketch?" I asked, breathless, when I reached him. Reaching around him, I pushed the door inwards and stepped closer, forcing him to back into the bathroom. When we were both inside, I slammed the door shut and kept walking him backwards until his back was to the wall. "Pick dare," I whispered, resting my hands on his hard stomach.
His nostrils flared as he stared down at me, eyes blazing with heat. "Dare."
"I dare you to make it up to me."
His brows furrowed in confusion. "Romi, I –"
I dragged his face down to mine and kissed him hard before pulling back. "Make it up to me," I breathed, turning our bodies until I was the one pinned to the wall. "Make it right, Sketch."
"We're drunk," he slurred, eyeing me with wary excitement.
"We are," I agreed, hands moving up to rest on his shoulders. "And you owe me a dare." Losing all control over my hormones, I shoved on his shoulders, pushing him to the ground while my heart hammered violently in my chest. "You said you never back down from a dare," I whispered, eyes locked on his as he slowly sank to his knees in front of me. "I dare you to eat me."
"Fuck," he groaned, fingers digging into the fleshy part of my thighs before moving up to squeeze my ass. Burying his face in my crotch, he dragged in a deep breath before pressing a kiss to my panties. "Fuck, Ro, you wreck me."
Shaking his head softly, he pushed my t-shirt up and trailed his fingers over the hem of my cotton panties, fingertips teasing my skin with a featherlight touch before hooking into the waistband.
Never once taking his eyes off mine, he slowly peeled them down my legs before lifting each foot to free me. His gaze flicked to my injured knee and he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the scarred skin, before taking my leg and hooking it over his shoulder.
"Tell me you're sorry," I moaned, eyelids fluttering when I felt his nose graze my bare flesh. "For kissing him and making me ache."
"I'm sorry," he whispered, lips burning a trail from my inner thigh to my slit. "For kissing him and making you ache." And then he was right there, spreading me open with his fingers and spearing me with his tongue.
"Sketch…" Cradling his head in my hands, I arched my hips, desperate to ease the throbbing ache building inside my core, as he pushed me closer with his lips and tongue. "God, I missed your mouth," I moaned, hips bucking wildly against his face. "Don’t stop."
A deep growl of approval tore from his chest as he lapped and suckled me. His teeth clamped softly onto my clit, dragging the tiny bundle of nerves into his mouth with a sharp tug before flattening his tongue over it, both soothing the sting and making me pulse harder.
When he slid a finger inside me, I clutched his hair and cried out, hips rocking into his face. I could hardly stand the pressure he was building in me. I was close. I could feel it in the way my body jolted violently. Every time he touched that tiny bundle of nerves or crooked his finger inside me, I drifted closer to the edge, reveling in the fucking fantastic way he ate pussy. A white-hot current ignited deep inside of me, growing hotter, burning brighter, luring me closer…
"Now, tell me you're sorry," Sketch growled, face buried between my legs. "For kissing him and making me ache."
"I'm sorry," I cried out, my flesh ignited in a blast of burning heat as he tugged on my clit again.
"For?" He slid a second finger inside me and crooked it upwards.
"For kissing him and making you ache," I strangled out, body shaking and jerking violently as I came hard on his face.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Romi
Sketch continued to finger me and suckle at me until my body stopped shaking. Only then did he pull back, lift my leg off his shoulder, and whisper, "Did I make you feel better?"
"Yes." Breathing hard, I nodded frantically, cheeks flushed, eyes glued to his. "A lot."
He wiped his chin with his thumb and climbed to his feet. "Good." He leaned down and stroked my nose with his before pressing a soft peck to my lips. "I'm glad."
He moved to pull back, but I refused to let him leave me. The moment our lips connected, my entire body ignited in a blast of white-hot heat. I was on fire for this boy, just the same as I'd always been. Hooking both arms around his neck, I kept our lips fused together, tasting myself on his tongue when it dueled with mine.
His arms came around me, pulling me closer and our lips crashed and collided hungrily, desperately seeking more from one another. It had been a long two years since I'd felt the severity of our connection, but I was feeling it now as my brain switched off and my body took over.
I could feel his erection digging into my belly and the sensation caused heat to wash through me. I knew exactly what he was sporting beneath those boxers and the thought made my legs tremble. Breaking our kiss, I slipped under his arm and turned our bodies so that he was the one with his back pressed to the wall again.
Drunk off both alcohol and Sketch Capaldi, I shoved at his chest, pinning him to door before pressing a trail of kisses down his stomach.
Finding a bravery inside of myself that I didn’t know I possessed, I lowered onto my knees and looked up at him through hooded eyes. Body trembling, I ignored the pain in my knee and leaned forward, hooking my fingers into the waistband of his boxers.
"What are you doing?" Sketch whispered, biting down on his swollen bottom lip as his chest rose and fell quickly.
"What do you think I'm doing?" I whispered back, dragging the fabric down his narrow hips just enough to free him, attention riveted to his long, thick shaft. "Ro, you don't have to do –"
"Shh." Trembling, I traced one fingertip down his length. He was pulsing; thickening and straining with every stroke of my fingertip.
"Fuck." His eyelids fluttered closed before snapping back open, eyes locked on mine. His hungry gaze was so intense, so heated, that it urged me on, pushed me forward, encouraged me to be bold.
Leaning in, I swiped my tong
ue across the thick head of his cock, never once taking my eyes off his.
"Fuck." He shifted, hips thrusting instinctively, as he released a strangled growl. "Fuck!" A pained hiss escaped and his teeth clamped down on his bottom lip as his hips arched towards me.
His eyes, now narrowed slits, were locked on my hands as he breathed hard. His knuckles had turned white from the force he was using to ball his hands into fists at his sides.
Proud of myself for drawing such an immediate reaction from him, I took him deeper into my mouth and sucked before slowly withdrawing to tease the head with my tongue and teeth.
Sketch groaned and it was a deep, guttural sound that I felt in deep in my belly. He opened his eyes again, searing me with dark, dilated pupils filled with lust and longing.
Sucking him in deep, I was surprised to find I didn’t gag when his cock hit the back of my throat. One of his hands found my hair, fingers knotting in my disheveled ponytail, while he cupped and clumsily stroked my cheek with his free hand, while gently rocking into my mouth.
Feeling daring, I reached up and cupped his balls, rolling them gently between my fingers and then immediately swallowing down the sudden jolt of pre-cum that filled my mouth.
"Jesus," he groaned, thrusting himself into my mouth then pulling back with a pained growl. "I'm gonna…fuck! Wait, Ro, I'm gonna –"
"Shh," I ordered, lapping and sucking at him. I sucked my lips in, pulling tighter on his shaft, sucking harder. "Stop overthinking this." Trailing my tongue up his length, I whispered, "Just fuck my mouth," before taking him to the back of my throat.
Growling, he roughly fisted my hair, adjusting my face to an angle that suited him.
And then he did exactly what I told him to.
He fucked my mouth.
He was wild and reckless, pumping into my mouth with fast, hard thrusts, whispering all kinds of promises as he moved, telling me he loved me, I was fucking beautiful, he was sorry – for what, I wasn’t sure and I didn’t care.
He pumped into my mouth with countless, frenzied, hard thrusts before abruptly stilling, face contorted in what looked like pained-pleasure. Holding my face perfectly still, he released himself into me, thrusting gently as he emptied himself down my throat.
I swallowed it all.
Every drop of him.
I took everything he gave me.
When he was finished, he slowly pulled out of my mouth and sagged forward, hands still tangled in my hair. His breathing was ragged, matching mine, as he continued to stare down at me on my knees at his feet. "I feel better, too," he finally said, thumb trailing over my cheek. "A lot."
"Sketch, I want you." Shivering, I covered his hand with mine and leaned my cheek into his touch, starved for his affection. "To have me." I swallowed deeply before whispering, "All of me."
He was quiet for a long time before sliding his boxers back into place and helping me to my feet. "Ro, you're drunk," he finally said, smoothing my ponytail over my shoulder. "I'm drunk." He shook his head. "It's a bad idea."
"I don’t care," I breathed, stepping closer. "I need this."
"You don’t know what you –"
"I need this," I repeated, unable to resist the emotions rushing through my body, through my bloodstream. Catching his hand, I dragged him towards the bathroom door and yanked it open. "And I think you do, too."
"Romi, wait," Sketch whisper-hissed, stumbling after me, as I pulled him towards the bed. "We can't go out there. Pres is –"
"He's passed out," I whispered, heart racing wildly, as I clambered over Presley who was still snoring on the floor and moved straight for the double bed. "And besides, I honestly don’t care."
"Wait, wait, wait –" Snagging me by the waist, Sketch lifted me up and stumbled towards the small twin bed in the far corner of the room. The minute he set me on the bed, I reached for my t-shirt and whipped it over my head and then quickly unsnapped my bra. Completely naked, I pushed back the blanket and rolled onto my back, eyes locked on his. "Come here," I whispered, holding the blanket up for him. "I want this."
"Fuck," Sketch choked out, hands moving to the waistband of his boxers. Pushing the fabric down his hips, he stepped out of them before climbing on top of me. Groaning in pleasure when I felt his weight settle down on me, I reached out and gripped his hips. "Shh, Ro," he whispered, pressing a kiss to my lips as he settled between my legs and rested his weight on one elbow. "Quiet, baby."
"I don’t care –"
"Well, I do." He kissed me again, soft and slow this time. "This is private."
"Okay, but I need to tell you something."
"Hmm?" Pulling back, he nuzzled my nose with his. "Fuck, you're so damn pretty it hurts."
"Sketch, I need to tell you something really important."
"What?" he asked, brows furrowed. "Shit, what is it? Have you changed your mind? Because that's okay. I'll go –"
"I'm still in love with you, too," I squeezed out, fingernails digging into his flesh. "I should have said it back earlier, but I was so completely stunned that I just froze when I should have told you that I love you. The truth is, I never stopped. Not even when you broke up with me two years ago or when you thought I was a killer. Not even when I was supposed to be with Chris. I didn’t stop, Sketch, because I can't stop. And make no mistake about it, I am still really pissed off with you for being such a shithead this past year, and you have a lot of ground to make up on that account, but so do I for hurting you on purpose by dating your brother. It was cruel and reckless, but you should know that you were always my favorite. Even when I wasn't with you. Even when I was burning mad. You have always been my number one…" God, I was not good at this. "So, anyway, I just…I thought you should know that. I've been holding it in for a long time and I can't walk around on eggshells with you a minute longer. It's too goddamn painful. I love you. I see you. I'm mad at you. And I'm sorry." I shrugged my shoulders and stared up at his face, absolutely powerless against my feelings. "And what you did for me today?" Shivering, I reached up and cupped his stubbly jaw. "You protected me against those men. You saved my life –"
He shook his head. "Romi, it's okay –"
"No, you need to hear this," I strangled out, chest heaving. "None of what's happening is okay. Not one damn thing is okay, but you are. You're good and real and imperfectly right." My lip quivered as my emotions threatened to get the best of me. Blinking back the tears trying to fill my eyes, I let my hands trail down his chest. "You're right for me, Sketch. I could feel it in my bones when I was five years old and I still feel it now. You and me are what's right, and I really wanna figure out a way to fix this with you."
"You really mean all that?" he whispered, chest rising and falling quickly against mine. "No bullshit?"
"No bullshit," I promised.
He dropped his face in my neck. "Fuck, Ro, don’t say it if you're gonna take it back."
"I mean it," I whispered, feeling the familiar pull as emotion roared to life in his blue eyes. "I won't take it back."
"I was a real dick to you," he said warily, pulling back to look at me. "That's something I can't take back."
Exhaling shakily, I nodded. "Yeah, and I was real bitch to you."
"And what you said at the diner about –"
"Nothing happened with Chris," I filled in, knowing exactly where his mind had taken him. "Nothing. I promise."
"Because he was gay?"
"Because I don’t spread my feelings around," I corrected, reciting his earlier words.
Sketch stared hard at me for a solid minute, his eyes full of torment and hunger… and excitement? Finally, after what felt like forever, he shook his head and a full body shudder racked through his impressive build. "Thank you."
"For what?" I whispered.
"For still loving me." His eyes were heated and locked on mine, pupils dilated as his breathing grew ragged. "Hell, for doing it in the first place. I know it ain't easy."
"It's the easiest thing I've ever done," I replied. He flin
ched like the words pained him. "You told me if I wanted to be your friend then I couldn’t kiss you again and I didn’t listen." Trembling, I reached a hand between us and fisted his once-again rock-hard dick. "Because I don’t wanna be your friend again, Holden.
"No?" he said thickly, rocking into my touch.
"No," I breathed, keeping my eyes locked on his as I slowly rubbed the head of his shaft against my pussy. With my free hand, I reached up and traced my thumb over the curve of his cheekbone before letting my fingers drift to the nape of his neck. "I wanna be your girl."
"Fixing us ain't gonna be easy, Ro." His voice was thick with emotion as he spoke. "We've got scar-tissue, baby. Lots of it."
"I know," I agreed shakily, still teasing both of us with his dick. "But I'm willing if you are?"
"I love you," he replied hoarsely. "I know that much, and I ain't stopping anytime soon."
"So…"
"So, if we're doing this again, then there's no getting off the ride. If we're in, there's no going back. Watching you leave me was the hardest thing I have ever done. Loving you from a distance damn near killed me. I ain't doing that shit twice."
My heart leapt with excitement. "Agreed."
"I'm deadly serious," Sketch said. "I ain't fucking around here, Ro. If we do this, it's a permanent thing. You're gonna love me and I'm gonna love you right back. I'll be your best friend and you'll be mine. We're gonna stick together through hail, rain, or snow. I'm gonna keep you safe and you're gonna give me nothing but the truth from here on out. We're gonna get all the hating out of our hearts and figure out a way to heal and make this work." He exhaled a shaky breath. "Is all of that really what you want? And be damn sure before you answer, because once you're in, there ain't gonna be no quitting option."
"I'm sure," I whispered.
"Yeah?"
I nodded. "I'm in."
"And you're sure you want this?" he asked, rolling his hips and nudging me with his erection. "You can say no. I won't mind –"
"I want this with you," I hurried to tell him. "I'm sure."
His eyes blazed with heat. "Then ask me for a truth."