Beautiful PRICK

by Kenzie, Sophia

  “Ex boyfriend.” He corrects me.

  I toss it off. “Same difference.”

  “Actually not.” His lips press together into that same thin line that he wears so well.

  “Why do you even care?”

  Oh God, why did I ask that? That was totally a flirty thing to do. I want him to tell me that he doesn’t want me to have a boyfriend because he wants me all to himself. But, I have told him enough times that it will never happen between us, so why should I ever expect him to come through on my new wish? I dug myself into this hole, and now I absolutely cannot find my way out.

  Note to self: When you’re not sure if you like someone, don’t take sex off the table.

  “I care,” Johnny places his hands on my shoulders and gives me a light squeeze, “because I don’t think that guy has your best interest at heart.”

  Blah, blah, blah, what kind of a perfectly structured answer is that? No one says things like that in real life. What he should have done was picked me up and cradled me in his arms while telling me that I’m all he thinks about and that his mornings would have no sunrise if I belonged to another man.

  Oh wait… no, things like that don’t happen in real life. What he just said about Nick’s intentions is way closer to reality.

  Damn.

  As I’m speedily playing out a multitude of fantasies in my head, I feel the small hairs on the back of my neck begin to tense. Something is wrong. Something is not right. My stomach turns to knots and I feel my insides begin to collapse.

  “Caroline, what’s wrong? Your face is white. Whiter than your normal white.” As his hands are still on my shoulders, he begins to shake me.

  I react to the shiver up my spine as I swear to him I’m fine, and that I just got a really weird feeling, like something was wrong. He offers to take me home, but I want to stay. It’s silly-just a strange feeling. No use making a big deal about it.

  The referee calls two people to the ring, and my attention is drawn back to the center. The sound is a bit muffled, and hard to hear over the crowd, but I believe one guy’s name is David, and another is Juan.

  David spins around, grabbing the audience’s attention before shaking the hand of the other man in the ring with him. The other man, who I’m assuming is Juan, keeps his head down and his stance low. He doesn’t play to the crowd, instead, he focuses on his opponent. The bell rings and Juan attacks low. He quickly gets him into a Helicopter Armbar before twisting down into an Elevator Hook Sweep. He’s fast, he’s meticulous, and he’s good. I can’t take my eyes off him. He quickly becomes the crowd favorite, even though he didn’t even care to introduce himself before the bell. But that doesn’t matter anymore, everyone is rooting for him now. Everyone wants him to win. And there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that he will. David is about to get creamed.

  He holds on for two rounds, getting in a few strong joint locks, before he’s knocked unconscious. The crowd roars to life, and Juan finally takes his bow. I scream with the rest of the group, cheering him on-thanking him for the entertainment he just provided. It’s exhilarating, and my entire body is tingling from the excitement. He turns to us and lifts his arms in victory.

  For the first time, I see his face.

  I feel my knees begin to wobble, and my vision clouds. I push my arms out to the side, hoping to find something to steady myself.

  “Caroline, what’s wrong? Your face is doing that white thing again.” Johnny wraps his arms around me, and I don’t fight him. I give him my weight.

  “It’s him,” I manage, “the guy in the center.”

  “The guy in the center? Which guy? What are you trying to say?” He’s confused and rightly so.

  I focus my vision and look directly into Johnny’s eyes. “Juan: he’s the head of the group of guys that attacked me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Johnny… Johnny.” I try to get his attention as I find my footing, but his mind has left the conversation. “Johnny!” I finally grab his face and yell.

  “Are you okay here?” If it’s possible, his dark eyes are even darker.

  “Why? Where are you going?” I keep my hold on his cheeks, praying that he doesn’t do anything stupid.

  He shakes me off of him and makes his way through the crowd, and to the edge of the ring. I hold on to his wrist, trying desperately to pull him back, but my mere strength is nothing compared to his determination.

  “Hey! Juan!” Johnny calls into the group of people that have surrounded him.

  “Johnny, please. Stop this now.” I beg.

  This is not at all what I want to happen. Sure, I had delusions that I would one day run into him and he would try to jump me in the middle of a darkened alley, but this time I would be prepared. He’d be hurt, he wouldn’t know what hit him, and on that day…I would have closure.

  But I knew they were delusions, fantasies, and if I had it my way…I would never see him again in my entire life. He would go on with his life and I with mine, and our paths would never cross.

  I guess that’s not the way the world works.

  Johnny escapes my grip and leaves me at the edge of the crowd as he moves in on Juan and his surrounding team. I watch in slow motion as Johnny pushes his way through the smaller crowd and lays a hand on Juan’s shoulder. He whispers something in his ear, to which Juan quickly turns around, his fist flying. Johnny catches his hand before it makes contact with his face, and pushes him back. Although I know Johnny would argue, this particular mash up is a little unfair. Johnny is a giant, and Juan is… well, he’s actually quite small. I wouldn’t put him any taller than five feet, seven inches, and maybe one hundred and sixty pounds, sopping wet. I mean, that’s still a good deal bigger than me, but nowhere near Johnny. If these two were to actually get in a physical altercation, even with Juan’s impressive abilities, my money would be on Johnny.

  But even as I say that, Johnny’s back is on the floor with Juan gearing up to jump on top of him.

  I start screaming, begging for the fight to stop, as Johnny finds his way back to his feet and uses his knee to jam Juan in the gut. Instinctually, I run forward, somehow thinking it’s a good idea to get in the middle of this fight, but I’m stopped suddenly by the referee. Actually, everyone is stopped by the referee.

  The fight is broken up, and both Johnny and Juan are being held back as they continue to try and propel themselves forward.

  I rush up to them, grabbing Johnny by the arm, all the while trying to talk some sense into him. But as I turn, I come face to face with him.

  And he starts laughing.

  “That’s what this is about? Some fucking broad?” Juan spits at my feet, and I jump back with a slight yelp.

  “Get away from her!” Johnny yells, almost breaking free from the three people that are attempting to restrain him.

  I look him in the eye, trying to calm him down by staying calm myself. “Johnny, let’s just go, okay?”

  “No! He deserves what is coming to him.”

  He deserves what’s coming to him? What does that mean? When did Johnny become crazed?

  I almost stomp my foot and demand that we leave now, but I don’t need to. We’re escorted off the premises by a handful of bouncers, all who happen to know Johnny by name, and apologize that it has to be that way. Then, as we’re brought to a cab that is waiting in the parking lot, we’re told that we’re welcome back any time, we just have to make sure not to start a fight unless we’re entered into it.

  Those are some interesting rules…

  I make sure to thank the group of men before they return to the metal door underneath the flickering light, and disappear back into the underground fighting ring. The ride back to my place is pretty quiet. I stare out the window, fuming, while Johnny stares out the other window, also fuming. I have so much I want to say to him; mostly about how that was absolutely ridiculous and immature, but I can’t say a thing. I can’t say a thing, because I’m actually grateful. He stood up for me. He fought a fight in m
y honor. I can’t name another time in my life when someone cared so much.

  “That was pretty stupid.” I finally murmur.

  “Yeah, well, he’s pretty stupid.” He furiously remarks while still staring out of the window.

  I can’t help but laugh. “He’s pretty stupid? That’s your come back?”

  He finally turns to me, and I can see that he’s trying to hide his smile. “Well, he is!”

  “Sure,” I come right back, “but I’m sure he could definitely beat you at a battle of insults. Because, honestly, you suck.”

  He shakes his head, and I can tell he wants to say something, but I continue. “Seriously though, Johnny. That wasn’t smart. Say he punched you in the face. How are you going to explain that on set tomorrow? How much extra makeup would be needed to cover up a black eye?”

  “I get it, Caroline.” He dismisses me.

  “Then I need you to get something else.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to be a damsel in distress. That’s why I asked you to train me. I don’t want you to take care of me and fight my battles. I want the freedom to make decisions like that, that affect only me, on my own.”

  Johnny finally fully turns to me, and even through the darkness, I can tell that he really can see me. I might not be strong, but I want to get stronger. I might not be brave, but I want to get braver. I might be scared, but I want to fight it. And finally, he can see that in me.

  Johnny lowers his head and rests his palm right above my knee. “I hear you, Caroline, but I want you to know that your decisions don’t only affect you, because you affect me.”

  What? What? You affect me? Kiss me you freaking idiot! Who says that and then doesn’t kiss the person they say it to? Am I not giving you all the signals? Am I not begging to be kissed? Hell, I just leaned in. Take a hint.

  Just don’t take all of the other hints like when I directly told you that I would never be interested…

  Life, huh?

  The cab drops us off in front of my apartment, but instead of wishing Johnny a good night, I invite him in.

  Once inside, I try to drop more subtle hints, but he still doesn’t get it.

  “If I swing this way, how do you block me?” He throws a slow punch.

  “Like this.” I lift up my forearm to stop his throw.

  “And what about like this?”

  We continue this back and forth, throwing and blocking, throwing and blocking, until I end up against the wall. I duck from his next punch, and take an offensive stance by throwing my shoulder into his gut and tackling him to the floor. I know he’s being easy on me, but it still feels pretty empowering when I land on top of him. I’m not there more than a brief second before he entangles his legs in mine and twists, causing me to lose my stance over him. We both pause to catch our breath, and I have to smile at him. He lowers his weight so he’s hovering inches above my chest, and quickly swoops his hands to his sides and grabs my wrists. I’m completely pinned and I completely do not want to get out of this hold.

  “What do you do now?” He whispers, his lips now so very close to mine.

  So I close my eyes. “Absolutely nothing.” I hum through a soft smile.

  I feel his breath on my lips, but I refuse to open my eyes. I want him to make the decision. I want him to want to take that step. But the torture is too much. I hate the waiting. I hate the not knowing. I slowly part my lips as I come up with something else to say, but just as I take a breath in, I feel his mouth invade mine.

  He doesn’t let go of my wrists. In fact, he makes his grip tighter. This kiss is different than the one on my porch. That was passionate, yet kind and reserved. This is… this is fiery. His breath is hot, and I can feel it warm my body. It’s been so long since I’ve been kissed this way; it makes me feel wanted, sexy. I need my hands. I need to feel him. I quickly twist my fists out of his hold and shoot my fingers through his tousled hair. He moans as my nails graze his scalp, and his strong hand wraps around the back of my neck, deepening our kiss.

  I laugh at myself for the amount of unnecessary thought that went into making this precise moment happen. Why did I fight it? Why did I care? We’re two people. It doesn’t matter if he’s a movie star, he’s still a human being. He has feelings, he has desires, and right now, I’m that desire. What was I trying to prove? Who was I trying to be better than?

  And why am I wasting my thoughts justifying my actions when I could be focused on the feeling of his hand gliding up my hip and under my shirt. The touch of his fingers on my soft skin is rougher than I imagined, but it makes the sensation that much more intense. He tenses his fingertips, and they dig into my ribs. I want him to be rough. I want him to take me.

  But he’s taking it very slow.

  His lips leave mine, and I feel their sweetness again on the curve of my hip. He slowly follows with a path of light pecks across my belly and to the base of my ribs. Sneaking his hands under my weight, he quickly unhooks my bra, and I watch a smile appear across his face at the ease.

  Now he’s looking at me, right into my eyes. It’s that same look from before, only slightly more intense. His dark eyes are soft, and have a sense of longing about them. No, I don’t think he pities me. I think he wants me. I bite my lower lip, telling him that I want him too.

  He lifts up and pulls me with him, bringing me back to my feet.

  “I want to see you.” He whispers as he slowly pushes my shirt up.

  I lift my arms into the air to help him with his task, and we both chuckle as the neck of my shirt gets stuck over my head. It’s nice, and freeing, and not at all awkward, like I assumed it would be. As I drop my arms, my already unclasped bra falls to the ground, and I watch as his eyes leave mine and fall to my body. He takes a step forward, placing his hands softly on my hips, and lowering his head to my shoulder. I feel the soft whisper of his breath as he kisses the base of my neck.

  “You are so beautiful.”

  I hum in response, delighted by his compliment and weakening at his touch. I pull at his shirt, doing a much better job at getting it swiftly over his head than he did with mine. Being as I’ve seen him shirtless a good number of times, the sight of his body shouldn’t shock me. And yet, in this circumstance, knowing that his body is now mine to touch, it makes him real, attainable, and ridiculously hot.

  I fall to my knees, landing my mouth right at those boy lines that are just daring me to follow them. I kiss and bite at his hips, tickling him as I make my way to the top of his pants. We stare at each other as I slowly undo the button, and then the zipper, and finally slide his jeans down his hips, allowing them to pile up at his ankles. Johnny kicks them off and to the side, ultimately standing strong in front of me in nothing but his boxer briefs. I slide my hands up his legs, making sure to keep eye contact as I continue to move closer to my prize. He’s hard, there’s no mistaking that. I feel myself warm at just the sight of the outline of him.

  Am I about to sleep with Johnny Braylock? My celebrity crush? The boy who snuck into every one of my dirty pubescent dreams?

  Focus! Not the time, Caroline… not the time.

  I smile as I focus on the now: what’s right in front of me. I open my mouth and softly place my lips around him, but still over top of his boxers. And I blow. I feel him pulse at my breath and grow with every movement. My fingers move higher and sneak under the elastic of his shorts. I slowly pull down, allowing him to spring to life literally before my eyes. I catch his erection between my lips and suck as I glide up and down his shaft. I hear him whisper my name, but I am too focused. I want him where he is. I want to be in control. He pushes deep into my mouth, and I gladly accept, my tongue swirling around him with each thrust.

  “No. You first.” He moans as he escapes my hold.

  “I was going first.” I smirk up at him.

  Johnny lowers to his knees so we’re now face to face. He quickly steals a kiss, and then another.

  “Believe me, I’ll let you take care of me, but I’m taking care of you first.�
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  His hands move swiftly as he pushes me to the floor, catching my head before I hit the ground. He lowers his full weight on top of me, and my body sinks into the floor beneath him. He kisses my lips, my chin, my jawline, and my neck. He stays on my neck, suckling hard enough that I know he’ll leave a mark, but that knowledge only makes me arch into him more. I want to be able to see what he’s done, even after the fact. I want to remember this moment.

  His hands skirt down my sides and grab hard onto my waist as his lips trail lower. He pauses at my breasts taking each one in his mouth, back and forth, back and forth. It hurts, but I want it to hurt more. I want him to take more of me.

  Johnny presses his pelvis into mine, and I lift to meet him. The suspense is killing me, and I’m quickly losing my patience. I tug at his boxers, trying to slide them from his hips, but he stops me with a chuckle.

  “Didn’t I say I was taking care of you first?”

  I pout, even though part of me loves the suspense.

  “I didn’t realize you were this feisty, Miss Carver.” He teases as his tongue dances around my belly button.