by Mae Doyle
“You asked for it, Elle. I told you not to make promises that you didn’t want to keep, but that’s exactly what you keep doing. Now, tell me something...” I rip her shirt open, the buttons popping off and landing with a clatter on the pavement. “…are you as excited as I am about me being the one to pop your cherry?”
“No!” She struggles hard against me, but I reach out and yank her bra down. Her tits are fully out now but still she fights me, her body twisting as she tries to pull away. Sweeping her leg, I push her down to the ground so that she’s flat on her back.
The pavement is freezing and she cries out, but she doesn’t stop fighting me, digging her nails into my arms as I pin her down.
“This is it, Elle. Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t bury myself balls deep in you right now. Tell me why I shouldn’t claim you for my own and then ruin you for anyone else in the future.”
My cock throbs in my pants and I lean into her, pressing it into her side. She turns her head away from me, moaning. She’s sobbing now, huge gulping noises that I think should make me feel bad for her, but don’t.
I don’t want to feel bad for her. I just want to take her for my own and make her see that this is what she gets.
This is what she deserves for looking just like Tiffany.
“Nothing? You don’t have any reason why I shouldn’t fuck you right here? You don’t want to ask for a nice bed? Romance? Beg me to stop? Nothing? I’m disappointed in you, little kitten. I really thought that you had a little more fight in you than this.”
“Please don’t,” she finally begs, but I’ve made up my mind. I undo her pants and yank them down, taking her underwear with her. Her skin is pale in the moonlight and she has goosebumps from the chill.
Slowly I drag my fingers along her smooth thighs. My head is pounding with how heady she is and how badly I want her.
“Do you want this, Elle? Do you want to know what it’s like to be Tiffany, not just look like her? Because I can fuck you like her and then I can kill you, just like I killed her.”
Fuck. I did not mean to say that, and I hope that she didn’t hear me, but she turns and looks right at me.
“You killed her?” Her face is contorted with fear. “You fucking killed your girlfriend?” Panic surges through her and she bucks up, trying to force me off of her, but I pin her back down to the ground. Bits of gravel is biting into my knees through my pants as I force her down on her back.
“Well, killed is a bit of a misnomer, Elle. It was an accident, but yeah, I’m the reason my precious Tiffany is dead. Then you come in here looking just like her. She should be alive, not you.” It feels both terrifying and exhilarating to tell Elle the truth. Tiffany should be alive, but she’s not, because of me. Then Elle comes waltzing into my life like she owns it.
It’s not fair.
I squeeze her inner thigh so hard that she cries out and slide slowly down her body, forcing her legs apart with my hands. Elle tries to clamp them shut, but I’m stronger.
I’m better than her in every way and she’s finally learning it.
“Clay, it’s not your fault.” Her voice sounds desperate, but I stop for a moment to listen. “You didn’t know. You wouldn’t have hurt her on purpose, Clay, and now you don’t have to do this. Please, make the right choice.”
She’s clawing at my hands, leaving long red marks across the back of them, but she’s no match for me.
“I stopped making the right choice years ago, little kitten. And, no, I wouldn’t have hurt her on purpose, but I did. Everyone I love gets hurt.” I can practically feel the heat radiating from her mound and I reach between her legs to cup it. She squirms and moans away from me, but I’m too strong.
“Don’t, Clay,” she begs, reaching for me. Her nails dig into my shoulders and arms as I trail a line of kisses down her stomach. Her skin is covered in goose bumps thanks to the cool air. Running my hands over her thighs and then spreading them, I can smell her.
“You’re just so perfect, Elle, did anyone ever tell you that? Makes me want to destroy you.” The truth is out now, and it hangs heavy between us. She’s stopped fighting now, but she does have her hand twisted in my hair.
“Please, don’t. Ted. Please.” Elle sounds so sad, but that’s not what gets my attention.
I’ve worked my way down to her thighs and am kissing her smooth skin. She smells amazing and I want to get closer. I need to taste her, but I stop and sit up.
“What did you call me?” The moonlight is shining right on her face and I can see that she’s silently crying. Tears run down her cheeks and sides of her face, and she turns her head away from me.
When she doesn’t answer, I sit up and grab her by the shoulders, yanking her off of the ground. Elle doesn’t try to fight back. Her arms hang loosely at her sides and she refuses to look at me.
“Elle. What the fuck did you just call me?” I know what I heard, but I need to make sure that I was right. I have to make sure that I heard her correctly before I freak out.
Right when she was begging me not to taste her, right when she wanted to stop me from taking her for my own in the middle of the parking lot, I swear that she called me Ted.
Chapter 13
Elle
I’m still not quite used to my bed in my new room, so waking up and feeling a little disoriented is nothing new. Yawning, I stretch my arms over my head and reach for the wall, but when I grab a metal headboard, I sit up.
My heart pounds and my mouth goes dry as I look around the room. This isn’t my home.
My body is screaming at me to run, but I have to make sure that I know where I am, first. Slowly, I peel the covers back from my body, swinging my legs out over the edge of the bed. I’m wearing a giant t-shirt that smells vaguely familiar.
Clay.
It smells like Clay.
The realization that I’m in Clay’s bedroom hits me out of nowhere and I have the sudden urge to throw up. There’s an open door in front of me and I run for it, pulling my hair back as I hunch over the toilet. Retching hard, I try to throw up everything that happened last night.
I can’t be here.
Turning on the light, I finally get a look of myself in the mirror and I look like hell. My hair is sticking up at all angles and there’s small cuts on my cheeks from gravel. Clay has a toothbrush and toothpaste, but the last thing I want to do is put anything in my mouth that was in his.
After a fast finger brushing, I tug the bottom of the shirt down farther on my thighs and walk back to sit on the edge of the bed.
Clay obviously brought me here last night, but why? I remember him telling Ted that he was going to drive me home, and Ted was pissed about it…
Ted.
Oh, shit. I told Clay the truth about Ted.
I want to throw up again, but there’s nothing in my stomach, so instead I bend over, clutching my stomach and moaning. Okay, I’ve got to pull it together.
Clay now knows something terrible about me, but he told me something equally as awful last night about him. Now I just need to find out where exactly he is.
At that exact moment, there’s a loud banging from outside the bedroom door. I hop out of bed and wrap a blanket around me, wanting to cover as much skin as possible. The last thing I want to do is go out there half naked. Not after he almost…
But he stopped. I have to remind myself that he stopped, even if he didn’t want to.
That’s a good thing, right?
My hand on the doorknob, I hesitate before opening it slowly. As soon as the door is cracked I can smell the coffee and the eggs, and I take a cautious step out of the bedroom. Clay’s in the kitchen, his back to me, working at the stove. I watch him for a moment, amazed at what I’m seeing, before calling his name.
“Clay?” I wanted my voice to sound strong, but I sound terrified.
He turns around, a spatula held in his hand, and smiles when he sees me. It’s the first time that he’s smiled at me like that since we met, and it’s disarming.
Then his eyes rake slowly over my body and the smile fades.
“Elle. Are you hungry?”
My stomach answers for me and I walk to the counter to pull up a stool while Clay makes me a plate and pours me a cup of coffee. The mug is huge and heavy and I have to use both hands to hold it so that I don’t accidentally drop it.
“Why are you doing this?” After the first sip of coffee, I feel a little braver than normal.
“Doing what?” He makes himself a plate and sits down next to me. I watch, half in horror, half in fascination, as he takes a big bite of bacon and washes it down with coffee.
He’s acting like all of this is normal. He’s acting like we’re not already late to school, like he didn’t attack me in the parking lot last night, like he didn’t destroy my violin.
My violin. I grip my fork tightly and stab a bite of egg.
“This. Feeding me. Acting like you care. I know that you don’t give a flying fuck about me, Clay, you’ve made that totally clear. So why are you putting on the act now? It’s bullshit.” The coffee is hot and burns my throat, but I don’t care. I’m too angry to really care and I don’t want him to think that I’m weak.
He takes a few more bites before wiping his mouth and turning to look at me. Holy shit, when I’m not being crushed under his weight in the parking lot or hating him for destroying my violin, he’s really hot. It’s not fair. Clay sighs and takes a sip of coffee.
“Listen, kitten, I told you that I hate you, and I do. But I also told you that I was the only one allowed to destroy you. I didn’t know about Ted. I mean, your stepdad? That’s fucked up, even for me.”
“So, you’re okay with killing your girlfriend and torturing the new girl, but a little assault between family members crosses the line?” I know that I’m treading on thin ice, but I don’t give a shit. I don’t care about Clay or what he can do to me. I almost want him to do something to me, just so I can hate him even more.
I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, like he has some compassion for me. It’s bullshit, and he and I both know it.
Clay gets up and refills both of our mugs before sitting back down. “I would never have harmed Tiffany on purpose. That was a stupid fucking accident, and don’t you dare think that I don’t beat myself up every single day of my life for it.”
I can see that it’s taking a ton of self-control for him not to lash out at me right now. His fingers are tight around his mug and he’s taking deep breaths.
Good. Let him feel what it’s like to actually have to control yourself and your emotions for once.
“Fine. So, you fucked up and killed your girlfriend. But how are you not in jail?” He should be in jail. If he were, then I wouldn’t have any problems at Kennedy Academy. I could have disappeared into the crowd and then disappeared after graduation, just like I wanted to.
At first, I don’t think that he’s going to answer my question, and I think that maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him so far. Was it out of line to ask? Then I remember all the ways he’s violated me, and I don’t care. He can enjoy a taste of his own medicine for once.
“Because it was a stupid accident and my dad’s the main county judge.” His eyes are locked on mine, almost like he’s daring me to laugh. He and I both know that it’s bullshit.
Anyone else would be in jail.
“You’re fucking kidding me. Daddy got you out of jail? So, you must really be the golden child, huh? That why you have your own suite? Or does Bethany have one, too?” I’m gripping my fork so tightly that the metal cuts into my hand, but I don’t want to put it down.
He shakes his head. “Bethany doesn’t have one. I have one because my parents couldn’t stand the sight of me after the accident. So, this isn’t really a present for me. It was more of a jail cell since they wouldn’t send me to a real one.”
My heart flutters and I take another drink of coffee. He didn’t put any sugar in this cup and it’s bitter. I scowl and swallow it.
“So now you just take out all of your rage on innocent people like me?” I’ve heard enough and I stand up, pushing the chair back with me. “Well, fuck you, Clay. Fuck you and the fact that you’re a murderer. Take me to school.” I cross my arms over my chest, daring him to try to stop me from getting what I want.
He chuckles. “Like that, kitten? You want to go to school dressed like that?”
Shit. “Where are my clothes from last night?”
Casually, he shrugs, and takes another bite of bacon. I want to smack it out of his hand, but I’m afraid to get too close to him. “I had to throw the shirt away. Somehow you lost all of your buttons, little Elle.”
Anger rages in me. “I didn’t lose my buttons. You were going to rape me last night, or did you forget?” Slamming my hand down on the counter, I make all of the dishes rattle.
“Oh, I didn’t forget. But I wasn’t going to rape you, Elle. By the time I was ready to take you, you would have been begging me for it.” He winks at me over his mug.
“Fuck. You.” Turning away from him, I stomp to the door. The suite is huge and airy but right now it’s stifling. I can’t seem to catch my breath and I just have to be away from him. I can’t look at him anymore, and I sure as hell don’t want him looking at me.
Grabbing the door, I unlock it and throw it open, only to find Bethany crouched by the floor, a wicked grin on her face. Instead of looking ashamed, she laughs and stands up, brushing her hands on her skirt. “Well, good morning, lovebirds! I was coming to see if there was any early morning fucking going on, but it sounds like you haven’t gotten to the hate sex part of the day yet. Want me to leave and let you two at it?”
“Take me home.” I don’t want to throw myself at her mercy, but right now it’s my only chance. I have to get out of this house. I have to get out of this stupid little shit town, and right now she’s the best option that I have.
Bethany glances past me, looking at Clay with a raised eyebrow. He must shrug or nod, because she cocks her head to one side. “Fine. I’ll take you home, but you have to tell me what started the fight.”
“You don’t want to know.” I brush past her, walking to the garage, but she reaches out and grabs my arm.
“Oh, hell yeah, I do. Anything that gets your panties in a wad like this is something that I want to know about. So, you spill on the way or I’ll just keep driving.”
Exasperated, I rip my arm away from her grasp. I’m hoping that she’s joking, but when I look at her, I can see how serious she is. She winks and I sigh.
“Fine. Just get me the hell out of this house.”
Clay
“Clay, you get any of that sweet kitten cunt the other night? She deserved to have it stuck to her since she was so intent on running.” Teague jogs up to me, a shit-eating grin on his face. He and the other boys did a good job catching Elle before she escaped, but that doesn’t mean I want him thinking about her pussy.
I don’t want anyone thinking about her pussy. It’s mine, and I don’t like to share. He grows silent when I look at him, but he doesn’t look worried.
Teague knows that he and I are ride or die. I may get pissed off at him from time to time, but after what we survived together, there’s nothing that can tear us apart.
Not even Elle and her sweet little pussy.
“Actually, I think that I’m going to need your help with something.” After Bethany took Elle back home yesterday, I spent most of the morning locked in my suite, trying to come up with a plan. Today’s supposed to be the first day that she tutors me, so I didn’t want to miss out on that.
“You got it. Anything.” He stops in the hall and turns to face me.” Fuck, he may not be the brightest guy I’ve ever met, but he is passionate.
“She let it slip the other night that there are some family problems at her home.” I keep my voice as low as possible. As much as I trust Teague, I know that the halls at Kennedy Academy have ears. Some little shit is always listening in on my conversations.
“Bad problems?�
�� The happy look on Teague’s face fades when I nod. He knows what I mean.
“So, we need to take care of that for her.” I made the decision without asking my boys, but I knew that they would support me in whatever I wanted to do. I just have to decide how far I’m willing to take this.
Elle is mine. She’s mine to protect, she’s mine to destroy. If I’m going to have her around to play with for the rest of the year then I need to make sure that she’s not getting hurt at home.
“You just tell me what you need and I’m there.” He pats my shoulder before pulling his phone out of his pocket. I watch as he flicks through a few screens before he looks back up. “Coach sent out an email that you won’t be at practice today. What’s up?”
“Tutoring.” Over Teague’s shoulder I see Elle walking down the hall towards us. She has her eyes locked on me and is holding her books in front of her body like a shield. It’s cute that she still thinks that anything could protect her from me.
“Sucks. Wait, with Elle?” Teague turns and looks behind him and Elle stops when she sees him. It isn’t until Teague turns back to me that she resumes her slow trek down the hall. “Well, enjoy the kitten, Clay. Let me know later what you decide, and I’ll talk to Brett and Robby.”
“Thanks.” He leaves and I watch Elle as she comes towards me. She’s closing the gap slowly, her steps smaller than normal, her shoulders hunched. She broke the other night, but it wasn’t me who did it. Her ponytail is still perky, but the rest of her looks exhausted. Instead of her tight-fitting jeans, she’s wearing a long skirt and a loose sweater.
I may have pushed her to the point of breaking, but it was fucking Ted who ruined my kitten.
“Elle, thanks for coming.” She looks surprised at the olive branch I’m extending and I have another minute to really take her in. I’m sure that most people here think that she’s gorgeous, but I can only see her in comparison to Tiffany.
“I didn’t really have a choice.” Cutting her eyes to the side, she watches as a group of students walk by us. The girls can’t keep their eyes off of me and are giggling, but I only have eyes for Elle.