Rewrite the Stars

by Rose, Charleigh

  “What are you doing?” I ask, sensing his warmth closing in on me.

  “Open. Your. Eyes.” This time, his lips brush against my ear as he says the words, causing goosebumps to prick my skin. I shiver, dropping my head forward as I bite down on my lip to keep them from doing something stupid like asking him to kiss me.

  I suck in a breath when I feel his tongue against my neck, followed by the scraping of his teeth. I squeeze my thighs together, feeling that familiar sensation building. A noise slips free from the back of my throat, and Sebastian presses his lips deeper, sucking on the sensitive, thin skin. Eyes still closed, I bend my neck in invitation. A bead of sweat slides down the back of my neck, and my pulse flutters in my ears. Nerves are all but forgotten, and in their place is crippling lust.

  I don’t know what caused the sudden shift, but I don’t question it. Sebastian’s mouth is finally on me again, and that’s all I can focus on. Suddenly, his hand moves to grip my jaw, angling me where he wants me as he continues his ministrations, reducing me to nothing more than a boneless pile of need. When I’m completely breathless, he pulls away.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I do.

  I can see the entire carnival from up here. The rides glow against the black sky, but it’s unexpected. Peaceful. Like the chaos can’t touch me up here. When I look over at Sebastian, his gaze is pointed toward me, those green eyes burning with intensity, jaw set hard. I feel my clit pulsing between my thighs, my neck still wet from where he went at me.

  I practically lunge for him at the same time he moves for me. He fists my hair at the back of my head as hungry mouths meet, clashing together, fighting for dominance. My palms slide up the warm skin of his throat. The safety bar prohibits me from climbing on top of him like I want to, and suddenly, I go from feeling like it’s inadequate to cursing the thing for getting in my way. I groan my frustration, and Sebastian chuckles into my mouth knowingly.

  “Easy, Princess. I’ll get you off if you say please.”

  “Please,” I grind out without hesitation, and Sebastian laughs at my frustration.

  He continues to kiss and touch and devour, but he never gives me what I need, keeping me in this crazed, desperate state. I don’t know how long we go at it, but when he finally pulls away, we’re back on the ground. I look around, sheepish, to see if anyone’s noticed, but the only person around is the attendant who smirks from his post. The lap bar pops up, and Sebastian grabs me by the wrist before he prowls away. I have to take twice as many steps to keep up with his long strides. When we come to a stop at the carousel, he motions for me to wait before walking up to the attendant’s booth. It’s empty, but Sebastian messes with the controls and the ride lights up, playing a haunting tune as it starts to rotate, then Sebastian’s back, pulling me toward the entrance.

  We step inside the circular platform lit up by rows of bulbs on the mirrored ceiling. I walk around, my hand swinging from pole to pole as I choose my favorite horse. Sebastian stands on top of one of the horses before walking across them, effortlessly keeping his balance as they move up and down. I settle for an all-black horse. If Sebastian were a horse, he’d be this one, all dark and mysterious. I lift a leg to straddle it as Sebastian jumps down from one of the horses, leaning against the pole in front of me, hands in his pockets as he watches me intently, gliding up and down, like he’s trying to come to a decision. His stare is unnerving. When he looks at me like this, I can’t help but feel like Sebastian really sees me. Too much of me. It makes me feel like I’m standing naked in front of a crowd.

  Finally, he pushes off the pole, stalking toward me. He drags his fingers along the cool, smooth horse, then he circles my waist, lifting me. My legs instantly wrap around him as he backs me up into the mirrors that surround the center pole. He grinds into me as his hungry mouth meets mine.

  Sebastian licks the seam of my lips, and my clit throbs. I moan as his tongue pushes into my mouth, sliding against mine. I shift my hips toward him, needing more. Letting go of my legs, he lets them slide down his body without our hips breaking their connection. My toes are barely able to touch the ground as he flexes his hips into me, my dress ridden up around the top of my thighs.

  “You want me to make you come now?” he asks against my lips. I nod, but he shakes his head.

  “Tell me with words.”

  My cheeks burn, not wanting to say the words out loud, but I’m too far beyond shame.

  “I want you to make me come.”

  “Show me your pussy,” he says, backing away enough for my feet to touch the ground.

  I hesitate for only a second, his words sending a thrill through me, before sliding my palms down my thighs, my fingers curling over the edge of my dress before pulling it up to expose my underwear. Emboldened by the way Sebastian’s throat bobs and his eyes flash, I pull the thin cotton to the side, showing myself to him. I’m playing a dangerous game, acting like I have the first fucking clue what to do with a man like Sebastian.

  His warm hand cups me before sliding a finger through my lips. I gasp, my hips trying their best to roll into his touch. I feel how wet I am as he moves his fingers back and forth.

  “Keep holding your dress up,” he demands.

  Sebastian moves lower, circling my entrance before slowly pushing a thick finger inside. I tense up, knees locking, leaning my weight against the mirror. There was a time when I gave Ethan everything in an attempt to feel a fraction of what I felt with Sebastian that night. I never came close. Not even once. I craved it, but when it came down to it, I didn’t want it. Didn’t need it. Not like I do with Sebastian.

  I gave sex exactly two tries. Once to see if he could make me feel, and the second time to make sure the whole pain of losing my virginity thing wasn’t interfering with my ability to enjoy it. I didn’t make that mistake a third time, much to his chagrin. Hooking up with Ethan was like eating sugar-free cookies. If I was going to mess up my diet, I wanted it to be worth it. I wanted the real deal. And God, is Sebastian the real deal.

  “This is a bad idea,” he says, his eyes trained on where he moves in and out of me. I follow his gaze, seeing how his finger shines with my need for him, the veins that strain against his thick forearm. I want to argue with him, to threaten him with bodily harm if he even thinks about stopping, but I can’t find words. It’s all I can do to lean back and take what he’s giving me.

  My legs start to give out to the sensations, and Sebastian lowers me to the rotating floor. Rolling on top of me, he fits himself between my flushed thighs. His fingers find me again, his free hand pushing my hair out of my eyes, his palm resting on my forehead while he rolls his hips into mine. I gasp, my eyes rolling to the mirrored ceiling of the carousel with rows of flashing lights. I see Sebastian’s broad form moving over me, my hair wild and tangled, my lips and cheeks flushed in a way that I’ve never seen.

  The seam of his jeans presses into me where I need it most as he wedges another finger inside me. I’m momentarily frozen, adjusting to the fullness, as his fingers and hips work in tandem, coaxing my body to loosen for him. My chest heaves, and I lose myself to the sensations, jerking my hips to meet his hand thrust for thrust, and soon, I’m crying out, digging into his shoulders as I clench around his fingers.

  “Sebastian,” I breathe.

  “Fuck,” Sebastian hisses, punching his hips into mine as I shudder beneath him. He pulls his digits from me before using the flat of his fingers to rub me through my orgasm. Holy shit. I just had an orgasm that didn’t come from myself. I relax my grip on his shoulders, bringing my hands to cover my face as I catch my breath, suddenly feeling overheated and overwhelmed.

  “It’s a little late for that,” Sebastian taunts, pulling my hands away. “Don’t hide from me now, Princess.” I can still feel his erection against me, and I shift beneath him. He groans, and I boldly slide my hand between us, gripping him through his jeans. He pushes into me once, twice, three times before I try to unbutton his jeans, wanting to feel his skin, to
wrap my hand around his length. Sebastian abruptly grabs my wrist, pinning it down beside my head.

  “You’re not ready for that,” he says with a condescending smile.

  I puff a lock of hair from my face and scowl, earning an amused chuckle from him. “Who are you to say what I’m ready for? Maybe it’s you who’s not ready.” His eyes narrow, his face hardening, and I think I’ve hit a nerve.

  “I don’t care how many high school dicks you’ve taken,” he says darkly. “This ride is for grown-ups only.”

  He pushes off me and jumps off the revolving carousel. I lie there, hating that I let myself be vulnerable around him, vowing to never let it happen again. Sliding both hands through my hair, I look up into my reflection, seeing my flushed face and rumpled dress, fighting the urge to flip myself off.

  Such an idiot.

  TWENTY-FOUR HOURS. TWENTY-FOUR HOURS SINCE I touched Evan’s sweet little body. Twenty-four hours, and my dick still hasn’t gone down. After leaving her high and dry—or wet, technically—I came back to the bunkhouse, jumped into the shower, and took the edge off before Eros, Tres, and Lathan got back. I pictured what it would be like to slide inside Evan, to feel her wrapped around me, as I fisted my cock. I pictured the way those defiant eyes flashed up to mine. The way her chest rose and fell when I fucked her with my fingers. The way the blush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks when she came. And when my cum spilled onto the shower floor, it was to the sound of my name on her lips.

  Evan took her sweet ass time coming back. Her pride took a hit, so I expected as much. She strikes me as the kind of girl who likes to lick her wounds in private. I also didn’t bother to shut the ride off, leaving her to figure it out. Just as I was going to retrieve her, she came through the door and went straight to the shower without a word. When she came out, she was wearing those damn silk pajamas again, and she slid onto the couch, pulling the blanket over her body and up to cover her face, and went to sleep.

  We haven’t spoken since. Today was slough day, so we spent all day getting our shit packed up before we head out to Oregon. Even trapped in the trailer together, we’ve still managed to avoid each other. She hasn’t so much as made eye contact with me. I heard her talking to her mom, I think, at some point, but other than that, she’s kept to herself with her headphones stuffed on her ears, laptop propped up on her lap.

  Now, it’s nearly midnight, and we still haven’t reached Oregon. Eros offered his bunk to Evan for a night, since he was driving the trailer with the bikes, and she jumped at the opportunity. The unreasonable side of me hates the fact that she’s in his bed. That his sheets will smell like her. Even worse, I hate the idea of Eros being her fucking knight in shining armor. I thought about offering her my bed a thousand times—thought about telling her to sleep with me in it—but I knew it was dangerous territory. Just like I knew being alone with her would backfire.

  All fucking week, I made it my mission to make myself scarce. She even started appearing in my daily nightmares. Suddenly, my dreams about dying turned into dreams of Evan dying. Space. It was imperative. I watched her from afar when I could. I kept tabs on her through a select few people I could trust. But spending too much time with her was a bad idea. My plan was working, too. Until the jackass who’s been creating chaos among the carnival decided to slash Jessup’s big rig tires the night before I asked Evan to come to the show. It’s probably some stupid, bored jointee trying to shake things up, but I wasn’t taking any chances of Evan being alone in case the culprit decided petty crimes weren’t enough, hence bribing her to come to our show.

  There’s no rhyme or reason to the crimes being committed. It started last month. Little things here and there. Someone’s money would get stolen. Equipment and other belongings would go missing. Trailers were being vandalized. And now we can add slashed tires to the list. The only common denominator is that it’s never touched us four. The Sons of Eastlake. For whatever reason, we’re never the target. The obvious conclusion would be that it’s one of us. I look over to Lathan, who’s laughing as Eros lays down a pair of Kings, like he’s got something better up his sleeve. No, it can’t be Lathan. He’s had a stick up his ass, but he’s not evil. Plus, his poker face is shit. If it’s not one of us, then my next guess would be that it’s someone who fears us. Someone playing pranks but knows better than to cross us.

  “Full house,” Lathan says triumphantly, spreading his cards out onto the table. Eros utters a curse, throwing the rest of his cards down as Lathan grabs the crumpled-up pile of bills in the middle of the table. “Those are some pretty gnarly hickies Evan’s got. Your handiwork?” Lathan asks off-handedly from his spot at the table. I hear the accusation in his tone, and I’m immediately on guard. It hasn’t always been strained like this between us. Something about Evan gets under his skin, and I don’t have the first fucking clue as to why.

  “You like?” I ask, keeping my tone unaffected. “I worked hard on them.”

  “Why not just piss a circle around her to mark your territory? It’d be subtler,” Tres chimes in. Eros laughs, running his hand over his facial hair after he takes a swig from his beer bottle.

  “I was bored. She was there. We had a little fun. That’s it.” Eros and I share a look, but he’s smart enough not to say anything. Lathan, on the other hand, must have a death wish.

  “So, you wouldn’t care if I had a turn?” Lathan asks, watching me closely for a reaction.

  “Trust me. You don’t want a turn. She’s got a hot body, but she doesn’t have the first clue how to use it. It was about as sexy as a root canal.” It couldn’t be further from the truth. She’s self-assured. Assertive. Insolent, even. But when I touch her, I see another side to her. Something more vulnerable. Almost timid. The more I touch her, the softer she gets. I want to make her melt for me.

  Once again, Eros seems to detect the lies, his smile not reaching his eyes, but Lathan snorts out a laugh. “Those are the best kind. You get to teach them. Mold them into perfection.”

  I clench my teeth so hard I think they’re going to crack under the pressure. Forcing my jaw to relax, I shrug, indifferent. “I don’t have time for little girls.” I look over to Eros’ bed where she sleeps. The curtain over his bunk is closed, but I can see through the gap between the curtain and the wall. Her hands are tucked in close to her chest, her lips slightly parted with a strand of that blonde hair stuck to the bottom one. She’s somehow innocent and experienced. Pure and sinful. She’s a walking contradiction.

  I tear my eyes away from her. Something about Evan has hope stirring in the pit of my stomach, but it isn’t comforting. It’s an ominous feeling. Hope is a dangerous thing when you’re a McAllister.

  “HAVE YOU HEARD ANYTHING FROM Dad?” I ask my mom, holding the phone to one ear and plugging my finger into the other one as I try to find somewhere quieter to talk. I needed out of the bunkhouse after being stuck in there for the better part of fifteen hours, having to pretend I didn’t hear Sebastian tell everyone how unsexy I was. Having to pretend I didn’t have to hold back the tears that wanted so badly to fall. But I didn’t cry about my dad, and as much as it stung, I wasn’t going to cry about Sebastian either. He didn’t deserve my tears. Tell that to the pit in your stomach.

  “Of course, I have, but it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with. What have you and Savannah been up to?”

  I roll my eyes as I dip behind one of the trailers. I really don’t want to know what Sav’s up to. “Not much. It’s been quiet. Uneventful. Tell me about Dad,” I try again. Mom sighs heavily.

  “He threw a tantrum, which was to be expected. He’s refusing to get help, but these things take time.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” I say after a pause, asking the question I’ve been too afraid to voice out loud.

  Another pause. Another heavy sigh. “I don’t know what to say, Evangeline.”

  “There you are,” a deep voice says from the other line. It sounds close. Too close. I hear muffled voices, like my mom has cov
ered the speaker with her palm. I pull back the phone, staring at the screen as if it just physically assaulted me.

  “Evangeline?” I hear my mom say. I bring my phone back to my ear. “I have to go. Call you next week, okay?”

  “Mom, who is that?” But the line goes dead before I’ve even uttered the last word. “Awesome. Just fucking super,” I say out loud, kicking the RV’s tire.

  “Everything all right?”

  My head jerks up to see Lathan standing there, watching me with his cold stare. “Fine,” I snap, in no mood to deal with him. I’ve given up on trying to get him to like me.

  “Sure seems that way.”

  “Yeah, well, if I had an issue, you’d be the last one I’d confide in.”

  “Fair enough.” He shrugs. “But I’m not your enemy.”

  I turn my back to him, stuffing my phone into my jeans pocket as I start to walk away, not giving in to his bait.

  “In fact,” he calls out after me, “I’m trying to protect you.”

  I spin around, exasperated. “Protect me from what? Having a decent summer?” I yell, throwing my arms out, feeling a little unhinged, but not caring enough to reel it in. “You’re doing a real bang-up job.”

  “From getting hurt,” he says, sounding earnest. I let my arms drop down to my sides, some of the fight leaving me. “Let’s go for a ride,” he suggests. When I give him a skeptical look, he rolls his eyes. “There are things you don’t know. I promise to be nice.”

  “One hour,” I concede, curiosity getting the best of me.

  “That’s all I need.”

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re in one of the pickup trucks—don’t ask me whose—pulling into a local coffee shop. When I walk inside, the smell alone is enough to make my mouth water. Lathan extends his arm, motioning for me to go ahead of him. I order a sandwich and an iced coffee while he orders a black coffee. Shocker.

  “So, what do I need protecting from, oh virtuous one?” I ask, taking a seat into one of the leather arm chairs seated around a table in the back of the shop. Lathan sits across from me, sitting back with his chin propped on his head, looking contemplative.