by Chloe Walsh
My coming only seemed to spur Rourke on, and he moved faster, pounding into me over and over as his hands dug into my hips, pinning my body to the mattress beneath him.
“Omigod,” I cried out when a strange bursting sensation filled me.
“Mmmm…fuck, baby,” Rourke moaned, thrusting harder. “It’s so fucking good this way.”
He was right. It was good. Amazingly good. But something felt…different.
“Ahhhhh,” I squeaked, definitely feeling a strange pressure. “Rourke, stop.”
“Shh,” Rourke begged, grinding into me. “Please, baby. I’m so fucking close… this is the best it’s ever felt…”
“Something feels weird.” I wiggled and he groaned loudly. “Oh my god! Pull out.”
“Fuck, Six,” he groaned, halting mid-thrust. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Just pull out,” I ordered.
“Jesus Christ,” Rourke muttered before slowly pulling out of me and resting back on his heels. “Happy now?” he grunted, palming his dick. “Tease.”
Scrambling out from underneath him, my eyes landed on his naked dick and a scream tore from my throat. “Where the hell is it?”
He threw his hands up in retreat. “Where’s what, Six?”
“The condom!” I strangled out, pointing at his fully erect dick. “Where did it go, Rourke?”
Rourke’s gaze immediately went to his dick and then my vagina. “Shit,” he muttered, looking lost. He looked back and forth again and again before meeting my gaze. “Where the hell did it go?” he muttered, scratching the back on his head in puzzlement.
“How am I supposed to know?” I wailed. “It’s your dick, Rourke. Which means it’s your condom and your responsibility!”
“Calm down,” he coaxed before dropping between my legs.
“What are you doing?” I screamed, batting him away from my crotch.
“I’m going to get it out of you,” he replied, deadpan.
“You’ll do no such thing,” I hissed, trying and failing to close my thighs.
“It’s me or the nurse at the emergency room, Six,” Rourke replied, using his hands to spread my thighs wide open. “Either way, it’s gotta come out.”
“Omigod,” I sobbed, covering my face with my hands in shame. “I’m going to have to go to the hospital, aren’t I?”
“Six, I’ve got this,” Rourke coaxed in a soothing tone. “I love you, and I am going to get this condom out of you. And once I do? I’m going to put my dick back inside you. Okay?”
“Yeah,” I whimpered with a sniffle. “Okay.”
“Good. Now lie back and tilt your hips upwards.”
Mortified, I did as he asked, keeping my eyes closed the entire time. “Omigod,” I cried out when I felt his finger slide inside of me. “Rourke…”
“Relax, baby, and keep your legs open,” he coaxed in an achingly sweet tone. “Don’t clam up on me.”
Oh my fucking god. “I’m trying not to.”
I felt Rourke hook his finger inside me a few seconds before saying, “I think I can feel it.”
“You can?” I asked, biting back a moan. The pressure was so freaking intense. “Can you really feel it, Rourke?”
“Yeah… Hold on.”
I released a loud cry as I felt Rourke pull his fingers out of me. “Oh my god!”
“Got it.” Rourke looked as proud as punch as he slowly dragged the condom out of my vagina and held it up for me to see. “All good, Six.”
“Get rid of it,” I begged, mortified. “God!”
Chuckling, Rourke disappeared into the adjoining bathroom for the briefest of moments before returning to the room with a shit eating grin on his face. He looked so freaking proud of himself for managing to snag a condom out of my vagina.
“You good, Six?” he asked. Crawling onto the bed, Rourke settled back in the spot he’d just vacated and pressed a kiss to my pubic bone. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked when I flinched from the contact. “Are you sore?”
“I’m not sore,” I admitted. “But I think I might die of embarrassment.”
Chuckling, Rourke settled down beside me and pulled me into his arms. “Don’t be embarrassed, Six.” He kissed my temple and squeezed me tighter. “I’m not.”
“Rourke,” I snapped, flushing. “You basically just performed minor surgery on my fricking vagina! How can I not be embarrassed?” Suddenly, my mind flashed back to something he had said and I balked. “Wait!”
I love you, and I am going to get this condom out of you…
“You said you love me,” I croaked out, burying my face in his chest.
“I did,” he confirmed calmly as he trailed his fingers up and down my arm.
“Did you…” I swallowed deeply, heart hammering in my chest. “Are you going to say it again?”
“Probably,” he replied, giving nothing away.
“Are you going to mean it?”
“I always mean what I say, Six,” he whispered.
Mercedes
THE OCEAN BAY HOTEL and country club was alive with bustle and noise when we arrived at the dance. The football game that had taken place between Academy and their arch rivals, Jefferson, earlier on tonight had everyone riled up and in good spirits.
As predicted, the Falcon’s kicked the Jaguar’s butts, with my man scoring all but three of the Falcon’s scores tonight. Pride was an understatement for how I felt when I walked into the foyer of the hotel on Rourke’s arm.
He loved me. Or so he had said earlier today – and proved it tonight when he showed up late to the game because he’d stopped off at a late-night pharmacy on the outskirts of town to buy Plan B for his girlfriend. The same girlfriend whose vagina he rescued just hours earlier from a rogue condom.
God, I was dying to hear Rourke tell me he loved me again, but I didn’t want to sound like one of those needy girls who needed her boyfriend to tell her how much he loved her to feel validated– I could do that in secret.
“You look gorgeous, Six,” Rourke whispered in my ear as he led me through the foyer and into the huge venue room that had been decorated and transformed for tonight’s dance.
I knew I looked good tonight – courtesy of Molly’s freaking fantastic taste in dress wear, and my mother’s fetish for skyscraper stilettos.
The full-length, strapless, mermaid-style red dress I had on felt like it had been made for my body type. The plunging neckline emphasized my boobs in the best possible way, and the thigh high slit on the side gave the illusion of long legs. I was short and curvy, but this dress made me feel proud of my shape.
“I love you in red,” Rourke added, slipping an arm around me. “Reminds me of the first time I saw you.” I felt like he was claiming me. I knew that sounded absurd considering I’d been sleeping with him for the past four weeks, but it did. Cameras flashed around us and I didn’t care. They could take all the pictures they wanted. Hell, I might even download them. This gorgeous boy was mine.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I told Rourke, fighting down a blush. The boy cleaned up well in a tailored black suit, crisp white dress shirt, and red tie. The bruise forming on his left cheekbone, the one he’d received during the game tonight, only made him look sexier…edgier. Bad!
“Do you want something to drink?” he asked, leading me over to one of the several dozen round tables skirting the dancefloor.
“I’ll just have whatever you’re having,” I replied, smiling at some familiar faces on the way.
“You want a whiskey?”
Whiskey? “I thought you meant punch.” I turned and gaped at him. “Wait – they have an open bar here?” I looked around the room in surprise. Ocean Bay really was a different world to the one I’d come from. “Jesus.”
“Not here, Six,” he chuckled, pulling out a chair for me to sit. “But they do in the resident’s bar downstairs.” Rourke grinned. “And you and I happen to be residents for the night.”
“We also happen to be seventeen,” I sh
ot back. “In case you forgot.”
“Pssh,” Rourke muttered, batting his hand in the air. “Semantics, baby. Ain’t no one gonna refuse these hands a drink tonight.” He winked and waggled his fingers in my face. “Five touchdowns.”
“Oh, my god,” I laughed, taking the seat Rourke pulled out for me. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“Maybe,” Rourke shot back with a chuckle. “But we both know I can back it up, Britt.”
Yes we did –wait! “What?”
“We both know I can back it up,” Rourke repeated with a smirk that quickly faded when he took in my expression. “What?” he demanded, face suddenly serious. “What’s wrong?”
“My name is Mercedes,” I forced myself to say even though it was hard to speak with the lump climbing in my throat.
“Yeah,” Rourke agreed with a frown. “I know.”
“You called me Britt,” I bit out.
He called me fucking Britt!
His eyes widened in surprise before denying it, “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did,” I pressed. “You said ‘We both know I can back it up, Britt.’” Swallowing deeply, I forced myself not to blink. Blinking was a really bad idea right now. Especially since I could feel my traitorous eyes watering. “You called me Britt.”
“Fuck,” Rourke muttered before running a hand through his hair and loosening the tie around his neck. “I didn’t mean to,” he added, blue eyes locked on mine. “It’s a habit.” Shrugging helplessly, he added, “It didn’t mean anything, Six Don’t overthink this, baby.”
Too late. “Okay,” I whispered, lowering my gaze to look at my hands clasped in my lap. I was already overthinking absolutely everything from the moment I met him right up to this very moment.
“Okay?” Crouching down beside me, Rourke placed one hand over mine and tipped my chin up with the other, forcing me to meet his gaze. “So… you’re okay?” he asked, tone gentle, as he scanned my face for any hint of hidden emotion. “You’re not mad?
“No. I’m not mad, Rourke,” I whispered. And I wasn’t mad; I was fucking crushed. Rourke could have beat me until I’m black and blue and it wouldn’t have hurt as much as him calling me Britt had.
“I didn’t mean it,” he continued to say, letting out a frustrated sigh, his eyes imploring me to believe him. “It was a slip of the tongue, Six.”
“I believe you, Rourke,” I replied, forcing myself to look at him. And I did. I knew Rourke didn’t mean to call me his ex-girlfriend’s name. I knew he hadn’t intentionally sought out to hurt me. Problem was, he did and he had…
“Alright, come on.” Rourke announced. He stood abruptly, shrugged off his suit jacket before dropping it down on a nearby chair and rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. “Get up.” He didn’t give me a chance to think about his demand before taking my hand and yanking me to my feet.
“I thought you wanted something to drink?” I asked as he dragged me towards the dancefloor just as the DJ began to play Hunter Hayes’ Wanted.
“I’m taking you dancing first,” he replied tightly, leading me past several couples swaying to the music.
The slow, achingly sweet melody wrapped around my heart as Rourke placed his hand in mine and drew me closer. My heart was racing at a ridiculous speed. I mean, seriously, there was no need for me to be hyperventilating right now. But I was.
“Stop, Six,” Rourke said, tone gruff. He had one hand splayed across my lower back, the other held my hand to his chest. “Please stop thinking about it.” His head was bowed, his cheek resting on my hair intimately. “It meant nothing.”
“Okay.” Closing my eyes, I pressed my cheek against his chest and gave myself over to him, allowing him to lead me, trusting his every step, all the while praying he wouldn’t break me. Praying this wasn’t a warning I needed to take heed of.
“THERE YOU ARE!” Molly’s familiar voice filled my ears moments before she appeared in front of me, looking incredible in a long sleeved, full length, white lace gown. “I’ve been searching all over for you guys.”
“Wow,” I breathed, stepping out of Rourke’s arms to take a better look at my best friend. “You look…”
“Overdressed?” Molly offered with a nervous chuckle.
“Amazing,” I corrected, pulling her in for a hug. “You look fricking amazing, Molls.”
“So do you,” she replied, squeezing me tightly. “Oh, you too, Rourke!”
“Thanks, Molly,” Rourke replied with dimpled smirk. “I’ll go get those drinks,” he added before pressing a kiss to my cheek and then striding off in the direction of the double door entryway.
“Where’s he going?” Molly asked, looking from Rourke’s retreating frame to my face. “Something I said?”
“No. He’s just getting us some drinks,” I replied, forcing myself to smile and sound as upbeat as I could. I didn’t want to ruin Molly’s night by telling her I was two seconds away from bursting into tears. “So, where’s Daryl?” I asked instead, slapping on the brightest smile I could muster. The smile Molly had been proudly sporting quickly faded at the mention of Rourke’s best friend.
I literally had no clue of what was going on between those two; Molly was exasperatingly tight-lipped when it came to Daryl, but I knew they had come here together.
“Who knows,” she mumbled. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere talking to random girls.”
“Molls…”
“I’m okay,” she stopped me by saying. “Honestly, Mercy, I’m cool.”
“Do you want to dance?” I asked then as Cher Lloyd’s Want U Back blasted through the speakers. I needed a distraction and by the sound of it, so did Molly.
“Hell yes!” she squealed, catching my hand and dancing like a maniac.
Rourke
I CALLED HER BRITT.
I fucking called my current girlfriend by my ex-girlfriend’s name.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Six was pissed with me and I didn’t blame her. My latest mistake was one of epic proportions. There probably wasn’t a damn thing else I could have said in that moment to insult her more.
Hell, I hadn’t even been thinking about Britt.
It honest to god had been a slip of the tongue.
Six’s face though. She looked devastated with those big grey eyes full of pain.
Goddammit!
“Great minds think alike,” Daryl announced with a wolfish grin, dragging me back to the present.
I was standing in the foyer of the hotel wondering what the hell I could do to make this up to Six. My hands were full with four large glasses of Jack and coke.
Daryl was carrying his own supply; two tall glasses of what I assumed was rum and coke – his drink of choice.
“I fucked up,” I blurted out, eyes locked on my oldest friend. “I called her Britt.”
“Who?” Daryl asked before his eyes widened. “Tell me you didn’t!”
“It was a mistake,” I groaned. “I swear to god, dude, I have no fucking idea why I said her name. I sure as hell wasn’t thinking about her.” I hadn’t thought about Britt at all recently. Not since Six walked into my world and turned everything on its ass.
Returning to the ball room, we headed back to our table and set our drinks down before claiming a couple of empty chairs.
My gaze immediately sought out and honed in on Six. She was out on the dance floor with Molly. The smile on her face was so fucking beautiful as she danced and laughed and it hit me like a wrecking ball to the chest.
I had made some pretty poor decisions in my life, but she wasn’t one of them. Six was the only thing I’d managed to get right.
“What should I do, D?”
“You’re asking me for girlfriend advice?” Daryl replied, looking me dead in the eye. “Dude, how the fuck would I know? The longest relationship I’ve ever had is with you!”
“Not helpful,” I muttered, returning my focus on Six.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Daryl
offered. “You keep staring at her like that and your damn eyeballs are gonna fall out of your head.”
I didn’t look away from Six. I just continued to stare – stare and covet and fucking worship her from a distance. She was wearing the sexiest red dress I’d ever seen and had her black hair was curled down one side of her neck. Christ, I needed to get her alone. Maybe, if I took her up to our room, I could persuade her to forgive me with my tongue. Yeah, Six loved my tongue. Girl couldn’t get enough, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her later tonight.
“Where’s your date tonight?” I asked when we were sitting, emphasizing the word date to piss him off.
Daryl deserved it. He’d given me enough shit about Six in the beginning. I figured it was only fair I returned the favor now he was hung up on Molly.
“Please don’t,” Daryl said with a heavy sigh. Reaching over, he grabbed one of his glasses off the table and drained the contents before saying, “I’m holding onto my control tonight by the skin of my teeth.” Slamming the empty glass back down, he picked up the second glass and tipped it back. “Bring her up to me, and I’m gonna lose it.”
I held my hands up in defeat. “Fair enough.”
“I can’t believe you called her Britt,” Daryl announced a few minutes later with a sudden burst of laughter. “You’re such a dumbass.”
“I’m not proud of myself for it.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he agreed. “You’re the happiest I’ve seen you in years with that girl, and you go and call her Britt?” Daryl snorted and shook his head. “It’s like you have a self-sabotage button, dude.”
Didn’t I know it.
“You need to apologize,” Daryl added in a serious tone.
I blew out a breath. “If I apologize then it means I’m guilty of something.” I turned my attention to Daryl. “Six will think I’m guilty.” And I wasn’t.
“And if you don’t apologize, you’ll be an asshole.”
“So, this is one of those, I’m damned if I do, and I’m damned if I don’t situations?” I asked, tone weary.