Shallow River

by H. D. Carlton

  I assume my mother either found my father dead or witnessed it and fucked off. Or she could’ve died, too. Daria Lancaster was never to be seen again after that day, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me not knowing where she is.

  And now, sixteen years later, I’m being haunted by the man that turned my father into a ghost.

  I’M PRETTY FUCKING SURE I’m experiencing a heart attack for the first time in my life when I see her. I’m only twenty-eight years old but this girl is going to send me to an early grave.

  She’s wearing baggy jeans and a thin strawberry red hoodie. It’s eighty degrees outside but she’s dressed like it’s winter in Michigan. Her hair is thrown into a messy bun and face bare from any makeup, showcasing her unnaturally pale face. Normally when I see River, she’s done up with nice clothing and her hair down. She looks just as beautiful now as she does any other time, but something about her appearance feels so unlike her.

  She looks… blank. Like a white canvas.

  My eyes catch a stark white cast on her hand. Last time I checked, her pinky was the only finger broken and that one has already healed. Now there’s a white cast on her pointer finger. I drop my head back and count to—fuck it, I can’t even focus on numbers right now.

  “That cast wasn’t around your finger two nights ago,” I say as I approach her from behind. Darkness is threatening to creep in my voice. I do my best to keep it away. Scaring her or doing anything to push her away would be stupid. Not when I’m trying to pull her in and away from him.

  She pauses at my voice, her shoulders inching up towards her ears as she tenses.

  “Leave. Me. Alone.” Her words hurt. Not because I want her to want me, but because it means she’s no closer to wanting away from Ryan.

  “Only when you’re safe.”

  “Fine, I’ll go where I’m safe, then you leave me the fuck alone,” she huffs, storming off towards the sidewalk.

  Her being temporarily safe wasn’t what I meant, but I don’t say anything. Not when she’s more than likely going to the library again—a spot where we can talk without having anyone seeing us. I follow her down the familiar route. One she took me on only a few months ago, when she was limping from a fall she didn’t cause. And now, she’s still bruised and healing. Just like last time. Except this time, the life is slowly seeping out of her.

  Her steps are swift and angry, causing her hips to swing in a manner that’s so seductive—I’m forced to adjust myself like an asshole.

  She pushes open the broken door to her abandoned library with a fierce shove. She stomps into the dusty, graffiti-filled building and marches through the empty shelves. I follow her into an aisle that must have been used for little kid books. The shelves are tick, waist-high and coated with dust.

  And then she stops suddenly, forcing me to balance on the tips of my toes as to not plow down her little body. In a flash, she’s whipping around and smacking a hand straight across my face. A hand that has a hard-ass cast on it, and one she definitely shouldn’t be fucking using to hit people.

  I take a deep breath and look away, licking my bloody lip as I try to reign in my rising temper. I don’t like being hit. I got a lot of that shit before I found myself in a nice family, it’s very rare I let anyone hit me without some type of consequence. I’d never hurt River—that’d defeat my entire purpose of trying to help her—but I’d certainly teach her lesson if she wasn’t devoted to another man. A man I’d really like to murder with my bare hands.

  My jaw ticks as she gets up in my face, her heaving chest pressed into mine. Our breaths are synced, both strife with adrenaline. Her sweet cinnamon smell invades my senses. All I want to do is take a bite out of her, just like I would a cinnamon apple. I’m distracted from my anger when I get a good look at her eyes. They’re the most unique color I’ve ever seen, the exact color of liquid gold with little flecks of brown mixed in and an outer ring of light brown.

  Those are the type of eyes you can’t look away from, no matter how hard you try.

  “I don’t need you to save me,” she snarls, snapping me away from my musings. “I’m not some damsel in fucking distress. I’m not a weak, little girl that needs your rescuing. I don’t need you, Mako. The only fucking person I need is my goddamn self. Do you understand me?”

  Her face is red with rage and her golden eyes are bright with a storm of hateful emotions. I’m not looking in the face of a girl. I’m looking into the face of a fierce lioness, her fangs pulled back and ready to rip my neck out with one wrong move or word.

  I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly in my life.

  I nod my head, keeping quiet. I feel the urge building inside my chest. I have to tamp it down, I need to. Kissing her would be catastrophic.

  “Do you want to fuck me, Mako?” she asks, derision coating her words. Apparently, I didn’t do a good job of keeping the lust out of my eyes.

  Yes. “Not what I’m after,” I clip. The muscle in my jaw is going to burst with how hard I’m clenching my teeth.

  She gives me a challenging look and my heart seizes. Her chin drops as she takes a big step back and peers up at me through hooded eyes. It looks like she wants to ride my cock as she slashes my throat. I’m not sure how to feel about that, but fuck if I don’t want to let her do it anyway.

  She reaches her hands up and runs them down her curves. Her head tips back, exposing her slender throat. I could easily reach out and wrap my hand clear around her neck. I could squeeze until her face turns pink and she’s desperate for breath. Her eyes would dilate, and she’d beg for more.

  A moan releases from her mouth, and my whole body turns to steel.

  “Ryan!” she gasps around another moan. My eyes narrow into thin slits as anger rises in my chest. Her hands continue to explore her body as soft, melodic moans vibrate through her throat. A growl leaves my mouth before I can stop it.

  “What are you doing, River?”

  Her head falls forward, her eyes dark amber and swirling with rage and lust. My favorite fucking combination.

  “Is this what you want, Mako?” she taunts, her voice low and breathy. “You want to touch my body, feel how wet my pussy is?” A smirk rises on her face and her eyes roll again. “Oh, Ryan!”

  The skin around my knuckles is threating to rip apart from how tightly I’m clenching my fists. The little bitch is mocking me. I’m three seconds from saying fuck it and pushing her up against one of these shelves and teaching her that lesson.

  “Keep it up, River. You won’t be able to moan the wrong name when your mouth is full of my cock,” I threaten on a low growl.

  Her hands drop from her body and mirth curls her lips up. From hot to cold in a span of seconds.

  “You’ll never fucking have me, Mako. You’ll never get to lay a finger on me again.”

  “Are you willing to promise me that? Because I will make a liar out of you, baby girl,” I challenge, my eyebrow cocking sardonically. I step into her space, pressing our chests back together. “I think we both know Ryan doesn’t satisfy you the way you need to be.”

  How quickly my good guy plan blew out the window, it’s actually comically pathetic. This girl brings something out of me no one else can. I don’t want to want her, but I don’t think I ever had a choice. She shouldn’t be with me, but I think I need her to be.

  The darkness I tried so hard to hold back slips through. River knows how to push every single one of my fucking buttons. Especially when her head falls back once more, her eyes roll, and she lets out a long moan.

  “Ohhh, Ryan,” she moans, dramatic but still sexy as hell. Without thinking, my hand shoots out and does exactly what I’ve been fantasizing about since she started this bullshit. I squeeze her throat, seeing red as she moans the wrong fucking name. By the time I’m done with her, she’ll be begging for me to hurt her.

  “Try again,” I snarl. My hand is barely squeezing. My grip is firm enough to make her pause, but nowhere near how tightly I really want to be squeezing. Enou
gh to make her face turn pink and legs quiver with need. River’s face turns red from anger, and her eyes whip back toward me with wrath.

  She leans into my hand. “Like I’d ever moan for you.”

  “That’s what you’ve been doing this entire time. Don’t pretend like you’re not imagining my cock buried deep inside you.” My grip tightens a bit. “You wanted to play. Now try again,” I demand, my voice rising.

  Her nostrils flare as she glares at me with defiance. I’m whipping her to the side and her back is pressed against the shelves in two seconds. Her hands fling to my chest to steady herself. I don’t even think she’s realized that yet.

  “What’s wrong, River? Not so brave now, are you? You like to hide from your truths. You’d rather lie to us both and pretend you love that piece of shit rather than admit you want someone better. You think Ryan could take care of you the way I could, huh? You think he makes you feel like a queen when really he treats you like a fucking peasant.”

  I step into her closer, my anger rising. She whimpers as her back digs into the shelves, the wood unforgiving. And just like I predicted, her eyes dilate with lust so potent, she doesn’t even understand what she’s feeling yet.

  “You don’t like the way Ryan hurts you, River, not like you like the way I fucking do. His pain only brings you sorrow and agony while mine brings you a desire you don’t even know how to handle. Now. Try. Again.”

  A breath bursts out of her through her constricted airways, and with it is a sound so fucking musical, it nearly makes me moan. My name. “Mako,” she pants.

  She’s so turned on; she doesn’t even realize her pussy is humping my leg. If she wasn’t wearing jeans, I’d feel her juices leaking through my pants. Her entire plan backfired on her. This girl loves to ignore what’s right in front of her face.

  Fuck it. I don’t want to save her. I want to fucking take her. I will steal her from my brother, right out from his tiny hands and keep her to myself. I will show her what it’s like to be with a real man. A man that truly does treat her like a queen. Someone that will cater to her every desire, treat her body like it’s my most prized possession, and show her a happiness she doesn’t know exists yet.

  “I hate that I want you,” she whispers. I get the feeling she didn’t mean to say it out loud.

  “Really? I happen to love it.” I love that I scare her. If it scares her, then it’s real. What we feel for each other is fucking real.

  She shakes her head, as if she’s shaking away my words. The queen of avoidance.

  “Mako,” she pleads. “We shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t cheat.” Her body grinds against my leg once more, contradicting her words the minute they leave her mouth. A wicked grin overtakes my face.

  “I promise not to kiss or touch you then,” I say, smiling a little wider when disappointment flashes across her eyes. I don’t call her out though. Instead, I brush my lips lightly against her neck, the tender skin puckering into goosebumps. Her pulse vibrates against my lips. I feel the vibrations even as I slowly travel to her ear.

  “But that doesn’t mean I can’t watch you touch yourself,” I whisper. A small gasp leaves her plush lips. She stops the little circles she’s been inadvertently moving her hips in. I take one step back, watching with fascination as a blush travels up to her neck.

  So fucking pretty.

  I wait. She’s battling with herself and I’m not going to push her into anything. That’s what River doesn’t understand yet. She has a choice with me. And even if it doesn’t seem like it, she’s the one always in control.

  Her golden eyes finally raise to meet mine, twin pools of molten fire. When she lifts a hand and pops her button open, I feel another wicked smile pulling at my lips. Looks like she doesn’t mind being bad after all.

  With patience I don’t possess, she pulls down the zipper to her jeans. Hooking her thumbs on the sides of her pants, she drags them down her smooth legs. Perfect. God, she’s perfect. Creamy skin fills my vision as she chucks off her pants and leans against the bookshelf. And with a lioness’s grace, she plants both hands on the top of shelf and lifts herself up, widening her legs as she settles in. Black lacy panties cover her most intimate part.

  I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from tearing the fabric away with my teeth and feasting on her.

  “Do I get to watch you, too, or are you a selfish lover?”

  It takes monumental effort to drag my gaze away from her panties and back up to her eyes. My dick is fucking granite and pressing against my zipper, like a prisoner desperate to escape their jail cell. I grin and mimic her initial reaction by popping open the button on my jeans. Her eyes flare and her little pink tongue darts out, wetting her lips in anticipation.

  “Has someone thought about this?” I taunt, dragging down my zipper, giving me sweet relief as the pressure dissipates. She doesn’t glance away from my hand, even as she denies me.

  “No.”

  My grin widens, both of us aware of her blatant lie. I step back until I’m leaning against the bookshelf opposite her, stepping on the bottom to help stabilize it, otherwise my weight will send me crashing through the empty shelves.

  She leans back on the arm that doesn't have a broken finger, and plants her feet on the edge of the shelf. Her other hand drifts over her pussy, her fingers trail across her panties, taunting me. Waiting to bare herself to me until I do. I have no problem making the first move. I pull down my jeans and briefs just enough for my dick to spring free. There’s too much pressure building. I squeeze it hard, gritting my teeth against the mix of pleasure and pain. Her eyes widen, and this time she does glance up at me.

  Even if I had the strength to will the cocky smile from my face, I wouldn’t. Not when she’s looking at me like she can’t tell if she wants to come closer or run away. She swallows thickly, and ever so gently, pushes her panties to the side.

  I close my eyes as my head falls back, a groan working its way out of my throat. The sight of her nearly has me on my knees.

  So pink. So pretty. And glistening from how fucking drenched she is.

  I squeeze my dick again, partly to help relieve the pressure, and partly to shock some control into me. My head lolls forward lazily. With hooded eyes, she parts her lips and dips her fingers inside. She drags the juices up to her clit, circling the bud slowly, a small moan escaping her lips.

  My hand drags up and down my shaft in response, sharp pleasure travelling up my spine. She circles her fingers faster, occasionally plunging her fingers inside before continuing her ministrations. I can’t take my eyes away from her, just like she can’t take hers away from me. The soft moans grow louder and bolder. Her body comes alive, as she spreads her legs wider, and circles her hips wantonly against her hand.

  “Fuck, River,” I growl, my hand moving quicker. Briefly, her eyes close and her head rolls, but she quickly turns her eyes back to me, like she can’t stand to look away for more than a second.

  “I’m going to come,” she whispers, her legs shaking and her brow furrowing.

  “Then fucking do it,” I grit out, my own orgasm on the verge of consuming me. River goes completely still, even her voice as she reaches her crescendo. And then she’s falling, and my name is chant on her lips. The first syllable of my name is all need to hear before I’m toppling over the cliff with her. My eyes snap shut, and my knees threaten to give out as hot cum spurts from my dick.

  “Fuuuuck, River,” I groan, the intense pleasure nearly blinding me. It wracks my body, battering my strength to pieces. I keep my eyes locked on River’s form. Her eyes rolled back in ecstasy and her uncontrolled, jerky movements as she rides out her orgasm.

  The only regret I ever is that she’s grinding against her hand, when it should be my tongue. Even as I come down slowly, my entire body limp and buzzing from the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, I want to lick her pussy until my tongue falls off.

  Her own breathing is erratic. And she won’t meet my eyes. She’s sitting straigh
t now, staring at the floor, her chest still heaving and her tiny fists clenched. I’ve no idea what’s going through her head right now, and I’m too much of a chicken shit to ask.

  She slides of the shelf daintily, slides her jeans on and shoves her feet into her converse, the heels of her feet sticking out. I button myself up, steeling myself against whatever is going to come out of her mouth.

  Her gold eyes slowly lift to meet mine. Something invisible but potent transfers between us. I don’t know what it is. I don’t what it means. But I want more of it. Without a word, she turns away and walks out of the building.

  She’ll be back. As much as she wants to deny it, she’s as addicted to me as I am to her

  .

  Fifteen

  River

  “HEY BABY,” RYAN CHIRPS from behind me, kissing the top my of head. I’m sitting at my desk, working on a paper for my Agriculture class.

  “Hey,” I reply distractedly. I’ve been invested in writing this stupid paper for the past several hours, and I’m almost done. My shoulders ache, my head is pounding and all I want is an entire bottle of wine to the face.

  A gasp is ripped from my throat when my head snaps back. My ponytail is wrapped around Ryan’s hand as he pulls my head as far back as it will go. Ryan’s blank face is above me, staring down at me with cold unattachment.

  “I came home in a good mood, ready to be doted on by my beautiful girlfriend. Instead, all I get is a hey. Now is that any way to treat your boyfriend?”

  “I’m sorry,” I rush out, my voice strained. His grip tightens to an excruciating level before he pushes me head forward roughly, nearly sending my forehead crashing into my computer screen.

  “Get pretty for me,” he demands coldly. I turn towards him cautiously, my hand absently rubbing the back of my head. That hurt.