“Money,” I said. “Started when I came back here. Hated every minute of it.”
Dawn straightened her back and cocked her head. “Even with me?”
“Especially with you.”
She shook her head, laughing lightly. “You really know how to make a girl feel good.”
“Actually, I do. And I wanted to that night at the club and the other night at your house.”
She didn’t say anything. My directness had definitely stunned her silent. I wasn’t trying to make her shut up, I was just no longer going to avoid the obvious. Her body language changed instantly. Her hands were clasped, and they tightened. Her knees had been close together, and they closed.
I stood.
She looked up at me, the hesitancy plain on her face.
I cocked my head to the side, indicating the hallway. I took a step toward my bedroom and she followed.
Chapter Eleven – Dawn
I walked into his room and he was on me immediately, his arm wrapping around my waist, the other reaching up and cupping my breast.
He lifted my dress over my head, tossing it onto the floor. My bra followed, then his hands slid down my sides, he hooked his fingers through the waistband of my panties and slid them down my legs until they fell to the floor and I stepped out of them. I felt his chin on my shoulder, then his warm mouth on my ear. Suddenly here I was, naked in his room.
He told me to sit down on the bed.
I sat.
Wes stood before me. He was tall to begin with but here, in this situation, with me literally nakedly vulnerable, he towered over me.
He reached into a nightstand drawer, pulling out three condoms, all still attached at the perforated edges. He tossed them on the bed beside me. I watched them fly by.
I stared as he lifted his shirt, exposing his tight chest and stomach. My hands took on a mind of their own and reached for him. His skin was warm and smooth, taut over the muscled lines of his torso. His hips formed into a V-shape, leading down the front of his pants. A thin line of fine hair trailed down from his chest and continued past the waistline of his pants.
His hands were on his belt, unfastening it, then to the button and the zipper…
“Touch me like you did in the club,” he said. That rough whisper again taunting me.
My hands slid down the sides of his body and into the elastic of his boxers.
I looked up and our eyes met, his gaze intense. Still fiery. Wanting me. Needing me.
He was waiting to see what I would do. Testing me? Seeing if I really wanted it?
I pulled on his boxers, lowering them, and his cock sprang free. Fully erect, rigid. For me.
My head practically lunged forward as I reached for it, mouth opening, eyes looking up at him as I wrapped my lips around the tip. Wes stood perfectly still for a couple of seconds as he watched me take more of him into my mouth, then he began to move his hips, and I felt his cock getting harder. I took as much of it as I could, feeling it touch the back of my throat.
Wes reached down and with one finger he moved my hair to the side, tucking it behind my ear.
I looked up at him again, wanting to see his reaction as my tongue swirled around the head of his cock.
He shook his head back and forth slowly, as if I’d surprised him. Which is what I wanted to do.
“Jesus, Dusk.”
And there it was. I’d shown him my bad girl side.
He pulled out.
I moved my head, trying to capture him again in my mouth, but he moved away.
“Tease,” I said, closing my mouth and he touched my lips with his finger.
“I’ve waited so long to see you do that,” he said. “But you’re going to make me come if I let you keep doing that, and I want more right now.” There was something about his determined confidence that made it even hotter and made me want to do whatever he said. That’s what my brain registered. My body didn’t need to process his words—it just responded as if by reflex.
He was on me again. His tongue traced a line from my navel up to my chest, sweeping along the underside of the swell of my breast.
Wes took a nipple into his mouth, sucking, pulling on it between his lips. When I felt his teeth lightly graze across it, I let out a deep sigh. I closed my eyes, my back arching into him, pressing against his face, wanting him to lick and suck harder.
And he did for a long moment, drawing it out, moving from one nipple to the other, moaning deep in this throat as he did so.
As he moved his way up my body, licking along the way, I felt the weight of his cock, first on my thigh and then notching between my legs as he nipped at my lips and tongue.
He moved his hips, letting his erection glide along my wetness.
I wouldn’t be able to take this much longer. I needed him inside me. I also needed to remember to keep breathing.
“Please, Wes,” I said, pulling away from his mouth.
“You don’t want to rush this, do you?”
Through my shaky breathing I managed to say, “No.”
“Should I make you beg for it?” he asked. “Tease you like I did at the club?”
“Please don’t,” I said immediately.
His mouth curled into a smile and he groaned. “That’s almost begging in itself.”
There was silence for several seconds as he teased me by continuing to slide his cock against me.
He kissed me again and I felt the grin on his face. “I have a lot of self-control, but my cock doesn’t. We can always do it fast and hard, then go again, you know.”
“Do it… Now you’re making me beg,” I said.
He reached beside us, grabbed the condoms, tore one off. With ease, he opened the package and reached down. I felt him rolling the condom on.
Wes knelt between my legs, pushing them open wide.
I closed my eyes, preparing.
“Open your eyes, Dawn. I want to see your eyes the first time I’m inside you.”
A hot wave of desire rolled through my body in response to his words. In all the fantasies I’d had about him, I’d never come up with lines like that.
He loved control. Loved the power.
And I was more than willingly giving it to him.
Our faces were millimeters apart, noses almost touching.
We locked gazes and before I could process anything else, Wes pushed inside me. A long, slow, even thrust.
My breath stalled. I struggled to keep my eyes open so he could see them. He didn’t blink as he watched my reaction to him sliding inside of me.
My mouth involuntarily formed the shape of an O, and I gasped in a deep breath.
He started slow and deep, then faster, kneeling again, leaning over and taking a nipple into his mouth once more.
My hands were on his head, fingers deep into his thick hair. I held onto him that way as his movement became more powerful, bucking my hips and making them rise off the bed.
From his kneeling position, his hands engulfed my hips, turning me, and before I knew it I was on my stomach.
Wes had pulled out of me and was moving away. I looked over my shoulder and saw him reaching to the floor.
He picked up whatever he had reached for and returned behind me.
Without saying anything, he stretched my arms straight over my head. I raised my eyes to try to follow what he was doing and saw black fabric.
My panties.
He was wrapping them around my wrists, securing me, as he pushed into me again. From this position he immediately hit the spot, sending a spike of adrenaline coursing through my blood, causing me to cry out to him.
“God…yes…”
“Come for me, Dawn.” The words were so evenly measured, the command so natural to him.
He knelt once again. I raised my hips to meet his thrusts. His palm was flat on my back, then moving, his finger made a trail down the center of it, across my ass, around my hip, and down to where he was fucking me.
His fingertip rested on my clit. He wasn
’t moving it around. No circles. Nothing like that. Just his finger applying pressure. Literally pushing a button.
Making me get closer, closer, until I cried out his name again and my orgasm crashed into me, making my hips rise off the bed to meet the rhythm of his movement.
I felt his other hand on the side of my face, turning me gently so he could see my expression.
Wes kept his finger in place as I continued coming. I was growing more and more sensitive. I wanted him to remove it, but I also wanted him to keep it there and make me feel even more things I’d never felt before.
As quickly as he’d put me on my stomach, he turned me over once again onto my back. He reached above my head and held onto my tied wrists.
His jaw tightened, teeth almost gritting together, he said, “I can feel you coming.”
My muscles were clenching around him, milking him.
His thick cock swelled inside me as his face turned a different shade of red. He pushed into me even deeper one more time, holding that position. He threw his head back. I could no longer see his face, I could only hear the heavy exhale.
I felt his cock twitch and surge inside me as he came.
We were silent for a few moments as we both caught our breath, then Wes rolled to the side and lay on his back next to me, and removed the condom.
I turned onto my side, hooking one leg over him and running my fingertips over his chest.
He looked at me. “Goddamn.”
“I know.”
Chapter Twelve – Wes
As depleted of energy as I was, my brain still managed to conjure up thoughts of what it would have been like if we’d fucked back when we lived in the same house. I knew she was thinking the same thing.
“It would have been so easy,” she said. “My mom and dad never would have known.”
“Something tells me they would have found out.”
“Who cares?”
I lifted my head and kissed her, holding my lips to hers for a moment. “I don’t. Not anymore.”
“What do you mean anymore?”
And here it was. Confession time.
“I always wanted you,” I said.
Her head tilted to the side a little and the corner of her mouth crept upward into a smile. “No way.”
“Yeah way. I’m serious.”
“Then why didn’t—”
“It would have been bad,” I said, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Look at what happened to me. You could have been dragged into the middle of it all. I didn’t want to do that to you.”
Suddenly, she burst out laughing.
“What?” I asked.
She put her hand over her mouth and stifled the laugh long enough to tell me what had gotten her giggling.
“My dad,” she said, and then laughed again. “Sorry.” She composed herself. “I just remember how mad he was that night you left. And the way things went down, you know? We were back inside the house and his face was red. My mom was trying to get him to calm down, but he kept ranting about how we never should have had a boy living in the same house with a teenage girl. And then…” She laughed a little more. “All of a sudden, he points, like he’s pointing in the direction you had left, and he said, ‘That kid is tameless!”
“Tameless?”
She nodded as she laughed. “I didn’t even know that was a word.”
“It doesn’t sound right. Untamed, yes.”
She said, “I actually looked it up. It’s a word. It was just so weird hearing him say it while he was in a rage. Oh God, it’s funny now. But anyway, I wasn’t exactly innocent myself, remember?”
I did remember, and I knew exactly what she was referring to. Just after Halloween our senior year, she and some friends had managed to get a bag of weed. I was surprised when I found out. Dawn? Good girl Dawn? Smoking weed? I never would have guessed, and I might have never found out if she hadn’t let it drop out of the glove box of her car when she was reaching for the school parking tag…right in front of the rent-a-cop who watched over the lot all day.
I’d been in the car that morning, as usual, and when the security guard saw it, we both froze. Dawn froze a little longer than I did, and I reached for it and quickly put it in my coat pocket. I knew the guy had seen it, so my plan was perfect.
He had told me to get out of the car. I did. Dawn protested, saying it wasn’t mine. I looked at the guard and said, “She’s trying to save me from getting in more trouble.” I turned my head back to Dawn. “Not gonna work.”
She tried again to insist that it was hers, but the guard knew me—who at school didn’t?—and there was no way he was going to believe it was hers.
It was my first suspension. I’d had plenty of detentions, so many in fact that anything I did next would result in suspension. A bag of weed, no matter how small it was, triggered it.
“I still can’t believe you did that,” she was saying now, and she rested her chin on my chest.
“No big deal.”
“It was a huge deal, and you know it.” She looked away from me, right at the wall, at nothing, and I could tell she was contemplating something. Without looking back at me, she said, “I used to blame myself.”
“For what?”
“Everything that happened to you after that day.”
I pulled her closer. “Look at me.” She didn’t look. I put my hand under her chin and lifted her head. Her eyebrows were knitted tightly, like she was in pain. “You’re being ridiculous. Nothing I did was your fault.”
“I just…I just feel like if you hadn’t gotten in trouble that day, things would have been different.”
I shook my head back and forth slowly. “Of course things would have been different. But the outcome would have been the same. I would have been skipping school. I still would’ve pulled the fire alarm during the athletic award assembly, or whatever that shit was called. You didn’t do anything to cause me to do the tuna fish thing.”
She sat up quickly. “Oh my God, I almost forgot about that.”
One day the school cafeteria had served this awful tuna casserole, which was really nothing more than canned tuna with some noodles and some kind of disgusting cream sauce. I put mine in a plastic bag and, between classes, took off the side of the math teacher’s desktop and placed the tuna inside. That afternoon, the heat and the fan produced a stench that had the entire wing of the school shut down. They eventually found the tuna, but never solved the mystery. Only Dawn knew I had done it.
“Stupid pranks,” I said. “The shrink told me I was acting out for attention but I think she was wrong. I know why I was doing all those things. Same reason I was doing drugs. It was the only thing that made me feel alive. It was like the thrill of doing something dangerous made me feel human. I had been so dead to everything after the accident, you know?”
She lay back down, putting her chin on my chest again. She didn’t say anything.
“The same was true of sex. That’s why I was with different girls and never could stay with just one.”
She let out a heavy sigh, her breath warm on my chest. “I don’t want to talk about other girls.” She looked up and her eyes met mine. “I want to know what you thought about me.”
“Sometimes when you were in my room and we were watching movies, I wanted to lock the door and take all your clothes off and fuck you on my bed.”
Her face blushed a little.
“Or,” I said, “sometimes I wanted to pull you into the bathroom with me and do it in the shower.”
“I had no idea. I mean, you never seemed to even give any hints like that.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I was a pretty decent liar back then, so hiding my true feelings was easy.”
I waited for her to tell me she had thought about us back then, but instead she said, “You did an excellent job hiding it. All those girls you brought into your room? Nice touch.”
“Jealous?”
She squeezed my nipple. “No.”
“I think yes.”
She squeezed harder without saying anything.
I kept my expression blank. “Squeeze all you want. Maybe I like that.”
I started to reach for her nipple, and she let go, backing away, wrapping herself in the sheet. Almost squealing. Laughing. Rolling away from me as I tried to unwrap her.
So this is what it might have been like…
“Why do you have a lion tattoo?” she asked, her fingers tracing the outline of the ink on my left peck.
I told her the story: When I was in rehab, I had a therapist who suggested I pick something to think about that makes me confident and strong when faced with temptation. She said it could be a line from a movie or song or book, a saying of some kind, or an image—just anything I could quickly conjure up in my mind to get me through a moment of potential weakness when my addiction was calling.
As a kid, I was fascinated with lions. I had books about them, video documentaries, stuffed animals, plastic figures, you name it. I had none of those things left by the time I had moved in with Dawn and her family, and never sought to replace them. So when the shrink suggested I pick something, it was obvious: a lion. Getting the tattoo was one of the first things I did when I got out of rehab. I considered getting it on my arm, my shoulder, maybe the inside of my wrist, but finally settled on getting it over my heart.
“I remember you touching my tat in the club,” I said.
“I liked it. Now I like it even more.” She was looking up at me, her eyes a little watery after hearing the story behind the tattoo.
Chapter Thirteen – Dawn
I didn’t see Wes all weekend because I was working so much. One of the assistant managers was out sick and I had to cover double-shifts both days.
I wanted to see him. I even found myself missing him during lulls at work, where my mind would go immediately to Wes—some of the thoughts about the past, some about Friday night. And the sex. My God, the sex.
I got home Sunday evening and Mom had made dinner. It was a Sunday tradition. Family dinner. Used to be four. Now three. The empty chair across from me used to be occupied by Wes, and all I could think about now was what my parents would think if they knew he had been in the house just days earlier.
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