It was one of those dreams in which you know you’re asleep, you know it isn’t real.
And because you know it’s a dream, you have some control over what happens. Your subconscious mind says ‘hey consciousness, let’s play’ and you come face-to-face with a world where there are choices, but not consequences. I moved over to the bed, fingering the soft duvet. The owner had money. I knew who I wanted the owner to be…
Drake walked into the room then, hair pushed back from his face in golden waves, pale blue shirt unbuttoned and fluttering against a chiseled torso.
“What about Lane?” Were the first words out of my mouth, a hint of jealousy flavoring the question.
“She doesn’t matter,” he said, mouth quirking in amusement.
“And Tabitha?” I pressed, as if trying to ruin what might be a beautiful dream.
“None of them matter. None of them,” he assured me, moving closer. I backed away from him, hitting the bedside table and making the lamp rock and shoot light at random angles. The shade settled cockeyed after I grasped the table behind me and steadied it. I whispered ‘sorry’. Sorry to an inanimate object inside a freaking dream. You’re not supposed to feel awkward and stupid in your own dream.
“I like it.” Drake’s voice was warm and his hand cupped my chin, turning my eyes to look at him. “I like everything about you, Tarryn.” He knew what I was thinking… because his thoughts were my thoughts.
“But what about—”
I started to speak, but his fingers brushed my mouth and sent shivers down my spine. “Stop talking,” he ordered gently, a bit of the Drake I’d first met in school making an appearance. “This isn’t the time for questioning, for worrying.”
He took me by the waist and shifted me so that the back of my legs were brushing the smooth fabric of the bed coverings. “I’ve never done this,” I spoke breathily, heart jumping into my throat.
“I’ll go slow,” he responded, lips kissing gently against my neck as my face tilted upwards. The blades of the fan above us were glossy, nearly reflective. I saw another flash of that mysterious copper-hue run across their shining white coating. My eyes darted around the room, but there was nothing to be seen. Only me and Drake and the photographs of the world looking in on us.
I let him lower my body to the bed. It was large, a king size. Of course it was.
His fingers dipped gently into the waistband of my skirt.
I was wearing my daisy skirt.
Why couldn’t it be something sexier?
At least the panties were good. Pale pink, a little lace.
He leaned down and kissed gently along the peek of stomach that was now showing between my shirt and the skirt’s waistband. I ran my hands through his hair, reveling in how silky the strands were. He moved up my body, nuzzling over the cloth that covered my breasts.
I hungrily kissed him when his face found mine again. He was growing hard, the pressure of him obvious against my legs.
It was just a dream… it couldn’t hurt anything.
I reached down between our closely-pressed bodies and I felt him, running the back of my hand over the hardness. Girth and length, as Sasha would say. I moaned involuntarily, my eyes going wide in surprise. I sounded like some bimbo from a porn movie… not that I’d seen any of those. Blush heated my face, but I forced myself to stay in the moment. Drake was making out with me in bed. He wanted me.
He wrapped his arms around my body, lifting me to reposition us the right way against the bed. When my head hit the pillow, my eyes looked past Drake. The clapped on the mirror again.
And it wasn’t just an orange-gold color drawing my attention.
It was the face of a woman.
He’d told me a little bit about Lane. My brain filled in the rest.
She moved towards us on the bed. She touched Drake’s back, her hands finding the collar of the shirt. She peeled the material off of him. Drake straightened his body, his knees straddling either side of me. He let her take the shirt off. She dropped it on the floor and moved so he could see her fully. He smiled. He smiled and reached for her.
Drake pulled Lane closer to the bed, close enough for her to reach down and stroke my face. “She’s lovely,” the woman muttered.
“This isn’t what I want.” I squirmed away from them both, worming my body from beneath Drake’s, glad that I was still dressed in my stupid lucky skirt. “This is my dream. You shouldn’t be here.”
“Then why are thinking about me?” The Lane of my imagination crawled onto the bed. She was unbuttoning her blouse, her skirt already unzipped in the back. Drake looked at her like he’d found a treasure he never expected to see again. When her shirt was off, he reached behind her and unclipped her bra.
As I watched, a scream building in my chest, the two lost the rest of their clothing.
I fell off the bed, scuttling to the nearest wall, and then tucking my knees against my chest with my back pressed against the steadying vertical surface. I shouldn’t look. I’d feel better if I didn’t watch. This wasn’t what I wanted. This wasn’t my dream anymore. But I couldn’t stop watching. I couldn’t close my eyes. And I had a perfect view of them…. a perfect stupid view.
Lane was against the pillows, taking the spot I’d vacated. Drake was on his knees between her legs rubbing himself, his dick lengthening and hardening. “I missed you,” Lane whispered, reaching up and caressing his face.
“I love you, Lane.” Drake breathed out, moving his hips forward, sinking deep into her body. He shuddered and she moaned, covering her face with one hand. “I don’t care if it isn’t right. I’m old enough now. No one can keep us apart.”
“I won’t leave you again.” Her voice was nearly a sob.
Drake was rhythmic, pulling out and shoving back into her. He went slowly and then fast, each beat of his body making her spine arch and her breath catch. Lane’s hands lifted, pressing against his chest as she writhed against the bed. Drake leaned down, hips still rocking, and kissed her. I could see glimpses of their tongues as their lips moved. Drake’s right hand moved to her breast. He kneaded it and then tiptoed his fingers to her nipples, tugging and pinching gently whilst she whimpered against his mouth.
“I’m not wearing a condom,” Drake straightened, chest rising and falling rapidly as he moved faster than ever, pulling his dick out until just the tip pressed against her opening, and then shoving back into her wet opening.
“I don’t care,” Lane gasped out. “Don’t stop fucking me, Drake.”
I hated when she said his name. I hated it.
He abruptly pulled fully out of her, ignoring her protests. He grabbed her by the hips and flipped her body over.
I blinked.
The copper hair was gone and in its place was a white-blonde pixie.
A smaller body had replaced the voluptuous woman’s form.
Tabitha.
She automatically lifted to her hands and knees, ass in the air, inviting Drake forward. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t seem to notice that the girl he was screwing was no longer Lane. Because Drake Castleton didn’t care, as long as he got what he wanted.
His dick sank into Tabitha’s body and she groaned, burying her face against the pillow and clawing at the sheets. “Oh, God. Drake.” She said his name like a prayer, like she was a devout freaking worshipper come to mass on a Wednesday afternoon. But religion had left the building. This was a physical rite… fluids and screams and orgasms.
Drake fucked Tabitha. There was no other word for it, no kinder way to describe it. He leaned forward and his fingers gripped her short hair roughly, tugging her head back and using it for leverage as he thrusted his hips back and forth. She didn’t protest. Didn’t care that he was trying to rip her hair out. She rocked back and forth on hands and knees, trying to shove his cock deeper into her body.
The scream that had been building in my chest couldn’t be held back anymore.
As Drake and Tabitha orgasmed, Drake still sunk deep into her body, I opene
d my mouth and let the sadness and anger pour out. I tried to, actually. But my yell was soundless. It was deafeningly quiet. If it hadn’t been, how could I hear the way Drake and Tabitha were panting, lying against each other in the bed, basking in the afterglow of orgasms.
A flash of copper caught my eye.
The mirror only blinked silver when I looked at it though.
I hugged myself, and finally closed my eyes against the nightmare.
###
I woke up, feeling like I’d run a marathon. My chest hurt and my mouth was dry. I scrambled to a sitting position, swiping at my eyes. It was just a dream. Just a dream.
Lane is gone. She’s not coming back.
Tabitha’s… she’s in Drake’s past.
Walking to the bathroom quickly, I turned on the faucet and filled a rinse cup with water. Drinking it down too fast, I choked a little. I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to stop the coughing fit from getting out of control, and I moved to my room again. I didn’t want to wake my parents. I’d been crying. My face was damp and my eyes hurt. Mom would ask questions.
Sitting back down on the bed, my gaze darted to the mirror in my room.
It only reflected my normal surroundings back at me. No flash of copper.
Picking up the cell phone to plug it in, I saw a notification. I traced my finger up the phone screen to unlock it. It was a message from Drake. Forty-five minutes ago. I’d been asleep for hours.
Drake: Can I still come over?
Drake: No, fuck it’s way too late. I don’t want to go home.
Drake: I’ll call you tomorrow.
I wanted to respond, to say I was awake.
But the taste of the dream was still creeping its way up my throat.
And I worried if I saw Drake right now… that it would feel all too real.
To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable “And hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.” I finished out loud, thinking of Chesterton’s writings.
Why did I feel so hopeless right now?
So Drake went to an empty house.
So I had a terrible dream.
He wasn’t unpardonable or unlovable. He wasn’t going to hurt me… again.
But I am hopeless… hopelessly enamored of one Drake Castleton. My once-bully and the boy who’d just starred in my dream slash nightmare.
I plugged in my phone and crawled under the covers.
He’d call me tomorrow. Today actually, I realized looking at the clock’s red glow.
Everything would feel better when the sun was up. I’d go for a run, get that endorphin high.
… and Drake Castleton would call me.
***
Story continued in
‘Brawl’
King of Castleton High #3
**Official release date is March 26th, 2020**
Order BRAWL today!
Amazon.com
Amazon.co.uk
E L L I E
M E A D O W S
Ellie Meadows is the chosen pseudonym of an established-author wanting to jump feet-first into the contemporary romance scene. Her real (and faux) persona can be described as quirky, nerdy, and not afraid to love without reservation. She believes even when love is complicated and hard, it’s also very simple—be honest, open, and don’t lose yourself to the relationship, because the people who really love you will want the authentic you. They won’t want you watered down. They won’t want you to hide behind walls or lie because it’s easier to swallow.
So Ellie believes you should say the tough stuff before it festers, whisper ‘I love you’ in the dark as often as possible, dance in the kitchen while the food on the stove burns, and fight when fighting’s necessary. But always—always—make up fast and furiously.
Lastly, on the subject of love, Ellie wants to say that consent is important at all stages in a relationship. Enthusiastic, happy-hearted, mutual consent. Even if you’ve been married for over a decade—ask, understand, and don’t take advantage. Far too often, we find ourselves using our sex to obtain things, or avoiding sex to make points. We say we’re tired and don’t want to have sex, when really what we want is to forge a deeper connection emotionally, before we continue to love physically.
ALSO BY ELLIE MEADOWS
-THE HEARTBEAT SERIES-
Complete and ready to binge-read!
###
Trigger warning- this story contains material that some readers might find disturbing. Expect references to sexual assault, foul language, and instances of violence.
Amazon.com Series Page
Amazon.co.uk Series Page
Or order the complete series release with bonus story!
Amazon.com
Amazon.co.uk
The Beat Between Us
The Beat Around Us
The Beat Completes Us
& Bonus Story featuring Tanner & Laurie Silent Heart
Over 100,000 words of romantic college suspense!
Abused runaway Anna has a plan for a better life. Keep her head down. Study hard. Don’t let anything, or anyone, derail her from making a fresh start. It isn’t just her future at stake anymore.
Then she meets Silas by chance—a tall, dark, and handsome EMT with a painful past—and her walls start breaking down.
They can find a sanctuary together or keep their hearts closed. Safe, yet never whole.
But there are dangers that threaten and memories that burn.
Love is a choice. Life can change in a heartbeat.
Brat: A High School Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 2) Page 13