by J. L. Beck
I start to stroke myself, and the images become something else.
Blair is beneath me now, withering, my hand is between her creamy thighs, fingering her.
“More, Cage, I need more. I want you to fuck me,” she begs.
Another image replaces the last, and in this one, she’s on top of me, riding me. I roll her nipples between two fingers, and her head tips back, her dark hair cascading down her back. Through hooded eyes, I watch as she uses me, rolling her hips and bouncing up and down.
“So good, so good. I’m… I’m coming, Cage. Come with me. Fill me up with your come. Come inside me,” she whimpers, and I stroke myself faster, squeezing my length, wanting to fulfill her wish even though it’s all in my fucking head.
I envision my hand as her channel, warm and tight and made perfectly for me, I fuck myself. Up and down, up and down, I stroke taking me further and further away from reality.
“Fuck,” I grit through my teeth, feeling the pleasurable zing in my aching balls. I’m going to explode any second now.
Behind my lids, sex with Blair plays out, and all I can do is watch, the air in my lungs stills, and my toes curl in my shoes.
“Take me, Cage, make me yours.”
Those words set me off, and just like that, I erupt. Deflating into the mattress, spurts of creamy white come shoot from my cock and land on my abs. Aftershocks of what I know may never be a reality rip through me, pleasure like I’ve never felt before leaves me immobile, and I sigh loudly, trying to catch my breath.
I can’t believe I just beat off to the thought of taking Blair’s virginity. There has to be something wrong with me.
Yeah, you want her, you idiot.
Staring down at the ropes of come, I know what I’ve got to do. I’m going to win that bet. Boyfriend or not, I want Blair on my cock. I want her virginity. I want her fucking smiles. I want every single thing that has to do with her.
I’ll possess her, and then I’ll set her free. I’ll make her wish she never took the job to tutor me, or ever poured that beer on my head.
13
Blair
I feel terrible about skipping out on Cage the way I did yesterday. In a hurry to leave, I forgot to grab my bag. I texted him a few times, apologizing, but all he wrote back was to meet him for another session today. Technically, it’s not my tutoring days, but I owe it to him to finish my session.
So here I am, walking up the steps of the library with a stack full of books in my arms.
When I reach the top step, I look down the long corridor and see that the door to our room is already open, but I can’t see inside from where I’m standing.
Moving closer, I stop dead in my tracks at the threshold. Cage is standing inside the room, half sitting on the table. His arms are crossed over his chest, making him look even bigger and more muscular. The fabric of his red T-shirt is stretched over the muscles, drawing my attention to his biceps. None of that is what has me frozen in place though. It’s the expression on his face that has me a little shocked and definitely confused. He looks angry, like really angry.
“Come in, you already skimmed time off my last session,” he growls as if he’s a teacher, and I’m a student who’s earned a one-way ticket to detention.
I approach him with caution like I would a wild animal because that’s what this feels like right now. He seems wild, unhinged, and I simply don’t know what to expect.
“I’m really sorry about yesterday,” I apologize again as I carefully step into the room. I try not to cringe at the sound of my voice. It isn’t often that I admit being sorry, but I genuinely am. Time is precious, and Cage was doing so well.
A wicked grin that makes my heart beat a little faster, tugs on his lips. “You can make it up to me by finishing that kiss you owe me.”
“I already kissed you,” I whisper and set my books down on the table beside him.
“You call that a kiss?” He pushes off the table and takes a threatening step toward me. “Are you afraid to pay up?”
“No, I shake my head while internally screaming, yes.
Each step he takes is measured with precision, stalking me like I’m his prey. Unconsciously, I take a few steps back, wanting to put some breathing room between us, but he eats up the distance with his long legs, and soon my back is pressed against the wall.
Peering up at him, I can see his pupils are dilated, his features are brutal, beautiful, and like a priceless piece of art, I want to stare at him. In a blink, he covers the remaining distance between us, pouncing on me.
His lips crash against mine like waves of water on a cliff’s edge. Dazed, I’m unsure of what to make of his lips on mine. His lips burn against mine as he kisses me with a fever that I’ve never experienced before. Burying one hand into my hair, he places the other on my hip, holding me in place as he possesses my mouth like a man starved of air, oxygen, and food.
This is not like our first kiss, the small innocent peck we had shared. There is nothing innocent about this. This is raw, angry, red hot passion.
It’s saying hello and goodbye at the same time. Feeling the burn of the sun and the glow of the moon. It’s giving someone your heart and expecting them to protect, shelter, and care for it as their own, and it’s something I’m not sure I’ll ever experience again in my life.
My own hands find the front of his shirt, my fingers curl into the fabric, and I cling to him like he’s my life raft. Cinnamon and cloves fill my nostrils. This man smells like Christmas morning, and I want to unwrap him like a present.
His lips part slightly, and he runs his tongue along my bottom lip, begging for entry. Parting my lips, I grant him access, and he takes full advantage, stroking my tongue with his as I moan into his mouth. He kisses me with experience, without worry or hesitation, a man with skill and finesse.
Pushing up onto my tippy toes, I lean into him, wanting to get closer, and I do. We’re so close now that there is nothing between us besides the thin layer of clothes, and even that seems too much. I’m burning up, feverish with need. I want to feel his skin on mine, feel him between my thighs, let him touch a part of me, so few have.
I think that’s what he wants too. Actually, I’m certain of it. That is right up until the moment he suddenly pulls away, leaving my skin cold and my lips swollen. My brows pinch together with confusion, and the softest whimper passes my lips.
“I bet your boyfriend doesn’t kiss you like that?” The words rush past his lips. The asshole isn’t even panting, unlike myself, who can’t catch her breath.
What the hell?
“What are you talking about? You know I don’t have a boyfriend.” Foolish. That’s what this was. Kissing him, wanting him closer. It was all a foolish act.
Irritation flashes in his eyes. “Yeah, you do, I saw you.” He looks down at the space between us, almost as if he’s ashamed. “Yesterday, I was worried about you since you rushed out of here without a word, and I know I shouldn’t have, but I followed you. I saw you with that guy back in your hometown. So don’t even try to deny it.”
“You followed me? Why would you do that?” I’m shocked and angry, but overall just not sure what to think right now. I don’t mean anything to him. I’m merely the gap between staying in football and being benched.
Taking a step back, he puts some space between us. “I don’t know... I don’t know why I did it, but I had to make sure you were okay. Turns out you have a boyfriend, so you were more than okay, I’m sure.” The jealousy oozes out of him like a volcano spewing ash.
I roll my eyes and contemplate letting him think I have a boyfriend for a while longer but decide against it at the last second.
“You’re an idiot, Cage. And an asshole.” I shake my head. “That was Ben, my brother.”
Cages mouth pops open, then closes, then pops open again.
“Your brother? You have a brother?”
“Yes, and if you took the time to actually get to know me, you would know that.”
“Oh…” H
e takes a step back, looking equal parts remorseful and embarrassed. “Shit, I’m sorry. I really wasn’t expecting that,” he huffs.
Placing my hands on my hips, I stare him down because now I have the perfect ammunition. “Now, you owe me since you know, you stalked me and accused me of having a boyfriend, which by the way, is none of your business.”
With a deadpan expression, he asks, “What do you want, Nerd?”
“The truth. Tell me the truth, Cage. Do you actually care about football, or am I right? You’re hiding just like me?”
“Maybe I am hiding, but unlike you, I can’t break free of my choices. I’m here at North Woods because of football. It might not be my dream, but I’m stuck living it. You can be whatever and whoever you want, but you chose to be this…” He waves his hand in front of him, gesturing to me.
What’s wrong with me?
Teeth grinding, I wrinkle my nose. “You mean myself? That I choose to be myself? That must be a foreign concept to you.” I shake my head in disbelief.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it? Pray tell, how you meant it.”
Like a typical male, he rolls his eyes. “You are hiding too, behind your glasses and your clothes. Hell, you’re hiding in your room. You never go out. You have what… two friends? Do you think that’s normal? ’Cause hate to tell you, babe, but it’s not.”
Asshole.
“Well, Mr. Popular, I’d rather have two friends I trust and love than twenty fake ones. Tell me, Cage. How many of your friends do you actually trust? How many of your friends actually know you? The real you? Not just this mask that you paint on every day.” My voice is thick, and my cheeks are burning, but I’ve proven my point.
My statement shuts him up, probably because he knows it’s true.
Taking a calming breath, I continue, “I’m not hiding from anyone, Cage. I simply choose who to let into my life because when I let someone in, I let them in all the way. I don’t act a certain way, so people will like me. I don’t do things because they’ll make me cooler. I’m myself. So what, I snort when I laugh. I’d rather read books than party. If you’re my friend, you take me as I am, no matter what. That’s what real friends do, they accept you for who you really are.”
“You haven’t let me in all the way.” It’s a statement and not a question.
“Because I haven’t chosen to do so.”
Cage takes a deep, audible breath and runs his fingers through his hair. I can see the anguish in his eyes. He doesn’t like confrontation any more than I do. This conversation had to happen though.
“I’m sorry, okay. I shouldn’t have followed you, and I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I was stupid, and I made assumptions I had no business making. Can we just forget this whole thing and go back to the way we were yesterday?”
“Sure,” I agree, even though I already know there is no way I’m going to simply forget this and definitely not that kiss. “Let’s study for your test.”
He nods, and we both sit down.
For the next hour, we do nothing besides study, no small talk, and no flirting. It feels weird. Off somehow, but I’m not going to be the first to admit it.
“Thanks for taking my bag,” I tell him when we are done for the day.
“No problem. Let me walk you to your dorm. I’ll help you carry some stuff.”
I look down at the full bag and the stack of books I brought. “Ugh, that would be great.”
Reaching for the stack of books in front of me, Cage shakes his head and takes everything, including his own bag.
“I got it.” He simply jerks his head.
Not feeling like arguing anymore today, I let him carry everything as we walk to the dorms. The entire walk, I can only think about one thing… please, let Amanda be gone. I don’t want another fight with her, or for Cage to be a witness to any more of her bullying.
I’ve been doing great avoiding her, and she has even been staying somewhere at night. I really don’t want to run into her, now less than ever since I have Cage with me. That will only give her fire to bother me again.
Of course, I’m not that lucky. As soon as we reach the door, I hear her talking, her nails on a chalkboard voice, making my ears ache. I unlock the door, even though everything inside of me tells me to run the other way.
When I pull the door open, and Amanda spots me walking in, her face tells me she is just as happy to see me as I am her.
“Let me call you back, my nerd roommate just walked in,” she says into the phone before hanging up.
“Do you have to be such a bitch all the time?” Cage snaps as he walks in behind me.
“Do you have to be such a jerk all the time? Oh wait, that’s only after you sleep with a girl.”
“Shut up,” Cage growls, and I notice the way his knuckles are whitening.
Ignoring him completely, Amanda continues, “Before, you’re all nice and charming, but as soon as you get your dick sucked, you turn into an asshole. You might want to take that into consideration, Ice Queen. He’s a real asshole once he gets you on your back.”
“Quit calling her that,” Cage defends me, rage filling his features, but I’ve had enough. This is exactly what I’ve been afraid of, and now she is confirming it. I can’t trust Cage to be any different with me. He might treat me well now, act like he cares, but once he gets what he wants, he’ll treat me like I’m nothing. I’ll be alone, sulking after a man that doesn’t want me.
I’ve seen it too many times. I’m not going to fall for it.
I’m not going to fall for him.
“Thank you, but I’m capable of standing up for myself. I don’t need you to do it for me. Matter of fact, I don’t need you to do anything for me.”
Cage looks at me like I just physically slapped him. Quickly, the hurt and shock in his eyes morph into anger. Good, that makes it easier. All of this will be easier if he sees me as the girl that poured a beer on his head.
Tossing the books onto the floor, he curls his lip at me. “You don’t have to be a bitch to me because of her, but since you are, I guess that gives me the chance to be an asshole. See where not needing anyone leads you. You’ll be alone forever. Maybe you’ll even live up to your nickname after all,” he yells the last bit at me, rage lacing his voice, the sound hitting me straight in the chest.
The door slams shut, rattling me to the core, and all I can do is try my best to hold back tears.
14
Cage
I’m a prick, douchebag, idiot. I know. I shouldn’t have said what I did to Blair, but there isn’t any taking it back, plus, it’s not like it was a lie. She does push people away. For instance, she pushed me away.
She got mad at me because I defended her. What bullshit is that? She’s trying to shove me out of her life like she does with everyone. Of course, I had to call her out on it, but I admit, I could have handled it a little better.
Since the day she poured a beer on my head, I knew there was something deeper going on. I saw it in her eyes. Her dislike and distrust of men. It’s right there on the surface. Everyone thought I was some idiot jock who fucked girls and never paid attention to anything, but I do. I know who my friends are, who is talking shit behind my back, and who actually matters.
It’s been two days since our last session, and the night that ended in disaster.
I’m sick to my stomach and have been dreading this session all day.
When I get to our room, she is already there, even though I’m ten minutes early.
“Hey,” I greet her and take the seat next to her.
“Hey.” She gives me a tiny smile, letting me know that she is no longer mad at me. The tension in my shoulders eases slightly, and I feel myself relaxing.
“I’ve done my homework, but there was something I didn’t get.” I open my book and flip through the pages. “It’s this one–”
“Did you mean it?” she interrupts. “Do you really think I’ll end up alone?” There is
no anger in her voice, she is genuinely asking me, so I look her in the eyes and decide to give her an honest answer without being mean.
“I shouldn’t have said it the way I did, but yes. I think you’ll end up alone if you keep pushing everyone away.”
“I have Jude and Mia.”
“That’s not what I meant. Those are friends. Don’t you want to find someone to love? Someone who loves you back?”
“I do,” she whispers.
“That will never happen if you push every guy you meet away. You don’t go out. You don’t even talk to guys. I hit on you at a party, and you poured a beer over my head, it’s clear that you have some kind of hate toward men ingrained in you.”
She pauses and nibbles on the end of her pencil, making her look even more like a nerd. A sexy nerd. A nerd, I want to peel back the layers on.
“Maybe you’re right. I just don’t want to be a girl that guys only want to screw. I want more than that. Every time a guy hits on me, I feel like they only want sex.”
Guilt rises up inside me. I can’t deny that that’s exactly why I hit on her. She gives me a knowing look before continuing.
“I’m not saying that sex is a bad thing or that I never want to do it. It’s just, I want to find someone worth giving myself to. I don’t want to sleep with hundreds of guys.”
Her words hit me like a semi-truck. Someone worth giving herself to…
That is definitely not me. I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve her.
Guilt gnaws at my insides. I’ve never felt so guilty, so immoral, and vicious for what I did. I tried to take that part of her. Take something she treasures, and for what? A stupid bet. I’m a prick. I don’t even deserve her friendship, but I’m too selfish to let that go. Now that she’s in my web, I can’t release her. I have to keep her close.
“Maybe that’s just something I hide behind.” She shrugs. “Maybe I should just try to be more like everyone else and just get it over with–”