by Elle Thorpe
He ground his pelvis against mine, heat flaring in his eyes. “No problem in that department. I’m always hard when you’re around.”
“Even in music class?” I asked, nipping at his lips playfully. There I went again with the questions. I couldn’t seem to stop. At least that one had come out flirty.
“Especially in music class. Do you know how hard it is to sit that close to you and not be able to touch you?”
“You can touch me now.”
“Can I? How much? I need to know what you’ve done before, so I know how slow I need to go with you.”
I shook my head. “You don’t need to go slow.”
He sat back on his knees, drawing in a ragged breath, uncertainty written all over his face.
I couldn’t even reassure him. I was too distracted by my first proper glimpse of Banjo without a shirt on.
I was a sucker for abs. And Banjo had them for days. His long, lean body was tanned to golden perfection, his shoulders broad, biceps toned. A light-colored trail of hair ran below his belly button and made a line between the delicious V of muscle either side of his hips. It all pointed straight down, toward the impressive bulge of an erection straining behind his shorts.
I sat up, too, and ran my hand down his chest, marveling at the way he trembled when I touched him. I trailed my finger lower, over his abs, and to the waistband of his shorts. I flicked the button, and his eyes flared. But when I went for the zipper, his big hands covered mine.
“Lacey,” he warned.
I stared up at him through hooded eyes.
“Tell me what you’ve done. With other guys.”
“Tell me what you like,” I countered. I went for his zipper again, and this time he groaned when I lowered the pull.
“What are you doing to me?”
I grinned. “It’s my turn.”
“That’s not how this works.”
I ignored him. I might not have had much experience with anything beyond kissing. But I knew what guys liked. I tugged his shorts off.
“Commando sort of guy, huh?”
“Went surfing this afternoon. Hadn’t gotten changed yet.”
I stroked my hand experimentally over his thick length, fighting down a surge of apprehension. He was big. Bigger than I’d expected, though I had little to compare with. But I doubted he had anything to worry about in the locker room. If that had been my dick, I would have been happily swinging it around, showing it off to anyone who would pay attention.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
I reached up to smooth out the wrinkles creasing his forehead. “For a guy getting a hand job, you look awfully worried.”
“I don’t want to scare you off.”
“Does your dick often scare people?” I said with a laugh.
The worry was replaced with a smile. “Well…”
I ran my hand over him again and liked the way he sucked in a breath.
“You don’t scare me, Banjo. Giant cock and all.”
I circled my fingers around the base of him and then stroked upward to his tip. “I don’t know what you like,” I whispered, though there was no one else in the room.
Banjo watched my hand roll over his erection. “You’re perfect.”
I didn’t really believe him. I knew there was something he’d like more. Something I’d been thinking about doing ever since he’d talked about putting his mouth on me.
I dipped my head and darted my tongue out to lick the head of his cock.
Banjo’s eyes widened, and his hand came up to the side of my face. “Hey…”
“I want to,” I whispered, feeling brave. “Show me what to do.”
Banjo eyed me. “You sure?”
I licked him again.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Open your mouth, Lacey.”
Heat bloomed between my legs. Muscles low in my belly clenched, and I opened my mouth for him. Leaning in, I closed my lips around his tip, tasting the salt from his earlier swim still clinging to his skin. I rolled my tongue down his length, taking as much of him as I could, before pulling back, licking as I went. Gentle pressure on the back of my head guided me, but I trusted him, so it only turned me on more. I gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes, feeling sexy and wanted. I liked the effect I had on him. His fingers fisted in my hair, and his body shook with the force of holding himself back.
“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” he asked, his breaths turning into pants. “Your mouth…so good.”
A flush of pleasure roared through me. I wanted it to be good for him. I wanted him to feel what I had on Saturday night. I held him in place with one hand but dropped the other to work in time with my mouth. In unison, I licked and stroked him, watching in fascination as his hips rolled.
“Lacey,” he groaned. “Fuck. Too good—”
“What the fuck is going on here?”
I jerked, scrambling to get away from Banjo’s dick, a yelp of surprise escaping me in the process. I whirled around, cheeks flaming. For some reason, in that one tiny second, I’d assumed the barked question had come from Colt. I knew he was just next door. And he and Banjo were so tight, it wouldn’t have surprised me if Colt had felt comfortable enough to waltz in without so much as a knock. That was all we needed. Colt finding me sucking Banjo’s dick would have been a swift end to whatever Banjo and I were.
But my relief at seeing Banjo’s brother glaring at us from the doorway was short-lived. It quickly turned into mortifying embarrassment. Time to leave. I scrambled around the floor for my purse.
Banjo swore low under his breath and shot his brother a death look. Only then did he casually pick up a pillow to hold over his erection. “Fuck, Augie. What are you? Some kind of stealth ninja?” Banjo scowled at his brother, then turned to me. “Lace, stop. It’s all right.”
It was anything but all right. It was downright mortifying, is what it was. I just wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole. Oh God. Swallow. Not a good time to be thinking about swallowing. Fuck! And I couldn’t even just leave. I didn’t even know where we’d left my car or how to get back there. It was fully dark outside now. I’d be lost in seconds.
“Can you take me back to my car?” I whispered to Banjo. I couldn’t even look at Augie. Not after the position he’d caught us in. It was too mortifying.
“Stop. Sit down, both of you.” Augie’s tone didn’t leave any room for argument.
I sat next to Banjo. I couldn’t help noticing he hadn’t even bothered putting his shorts back on. He just sat butt naked on the couch beside me, with the cushion in his lap. I couldn’t help it. I snorted on a laugh. Banjo grinned at me.
“Want to introduce me to your friend, little brother? Now that her mouth isn’t wrapped around your dick?”
Annnnd, I was back to mortified.
“Lacey, Augie. Augie, Lacey.”
I raised my head to meet Augie’s eyes. He wasn’t impressed. I hadn’t realized how big a guy he was when we’d seen him at the mall, but up close, Banjo’s brother was huge. Tattoos peeked out beneath his shirt sleeves, and his body had the solid appearance of a man who spent a lot of time in the gym. He stared at me now with an expression of pure annoyance. I wanted to shrivel beneath it. Even Colt’s black gaze had nothing on Augie right now. While Colt was intimidating, Augie looked…dangerous.
I shifted a little closer to Banjo, and when he put his arm around me, I was grateful. I liked the safety he provided.
Augie’s gaze didn’t linger on me for long. It snapped back to his brother. “You know I don’t care which random skanks you hook up with. But don’t be doing it here, in the middle of the fucking living room, when I’ve got a client coming over. What if I’d had someone with me? You think they would have stuck around after seeing your little underage sex show?”
Banjo’s expression reeked of boredom.
Augie sighed. “Whatever. Get it out of your system now. You know once you hit eighteen—”
Banjo’s expression hardened. �
��Will you quit bringing that up? It’s not happening.” He pushed off the couch and thrust the cushion at his brother. “It’s my house, too. And she’s not a random skank. So don’t ever fucking call her that again. Got it? We’ll be in my room.”
With that, he grabbed my hand, pulled me up from the couch, and dragged me up the stairs. Still completely buck-ass naked.
He opened the first door after we hit the second-floor landing and guided me inside, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck him,” Banjo muttered. “He can go to hell.”
He dropped my hand and stalked to a chest of drawers, yanking out the middle one with so much force I was shocked it didn’t fly right off the runners. He snatched up a pair of black sports shorts and drew them up over his ass.
I leaned back on the door. “Well, that was mortifying.”
Banjo strode across the small room and pinned me in, cupping my face with both hands. I expected him to kiss me. And kiss me hard. But instead, he paused, lips hovering just over mine.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His voice got a little louder. “That was really bad, wasn’t it?”
“It wasn’t the best,” I agreed.
He stared at me.
I stared at him.
Slowly, a grin tugged at his lips.
Damn him, it was infectious. I slapped his chest. “Stop it. It’s not funny!”
“It’s a bit funny!”
“Your brother caught us while I was giving you a blow job, Banjo. Like, your dick was actually in my mouth. He saw that! Can I curl into a ball and die now, please?”
He gathered me up in his arms and kissed my forehead. “How do you think I feel? He interrupted before you got to finish. My balls are blue right now!”
We both choked on our laughter. He led me over to the bed, and we sat side by side on the narrow single mattress. His room was painted blue and decorated with surfing photos, mostly big waves in tropical locations I doubted he’d ever been to. Magazines sat piled up on his bedside table. A small flat-screen TV was attached to one wall, PlayStation cords dangling down. Typical teen boy bedroom, except the bed was neatly made and there weren’t dirty socks on the floor.
I picked up a framed photo of Augie and Banjo and ran my thumb along the frame. “Is he going to be super mad at you?”
Banjo shrugged. “I don’t care. I’m not happy with him either. Sorry about what he said. You aren’t a skank. He’s just an asshole.”
“Has he caught you with a lot of girls? Like that, I mean?” I bit my lip, almost wanting to take the words back. I suddenly wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
But Banjo put his hand on my leg and squeezed it. “I can promise you, you’re the first he’s ever caught in that position.”
That was somehow worse. I groaned loudly and buried my face in my hands. “Kill me now.”
He pried my fingers away and traced a finger over the ring on my index finger. “Who gives a shit what he thinks?”
“He’s your brother.”
“He’s a bastard.”
We both went quiet.
Then I remembered something. “What did he mean by you only have until you’re eighteen? He’s not going to kick you out, is he?”
“I wish. No. He wants me to go into business with him after my birthday.”
I paused. “His drug business?”
Banjo shook his head. “No. He does some other stuff, on the side.” He pushed to his feet. “Honestly, it’s not anything I really like thinking about. How about I take you home? Or back to your car, anyway.”
I nodded, standing as well.
Banjo opened his arms, and I stepped into them for a hug. It wasn’t anything sexual. Just a mutual assurance that everything was going to be all right. But Banjo’s vagueness about his brother’s business bothered me. Something wasn’t on the up and up.
“Maybe we can pick up where we left off another night?” Banjo asked.
I buried my face in is shoulder, breathing him in. Who knew how long it would be before we got to do this again. “That could possibly be arranged. If you’re lucky.”
“Am I pushing that luck if I ask you out for Friday then?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to agree, but then I shook my head. “Actually, I can’t. I have plans.”
“Oh? Something with your aunt?”
I moved back so I could see his face better. “Something with Rafe and my aunt actually.”
“Rafe?” He seemed interested but not concerned. He linked his fingers through mine and led me toward the door.
“We’re doing a speech at this donor dinner thing.”
Banjo’s hand paused on the doorknob “Is it a date?”
I shook my head. “Oh no. His dad asked us to do it.” But the tone in his voice had piqued my interest. “Would you be upset if it had been a date?”
To my surprise, he answered easily. “With Rafe? No. Anyone else? Yeah, maybe. Sorry, I know that’s shitty, because we aren’t official or anything.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I know I don’t have the right to be jealous when I can’t offer you more than what we’re doing right now.”
I shrugged. “I can’t offer you anything in return either. So whatever we are, I’m all good with it. You date who you want. I’ll date who I want. We’ll hang out when we can. Maybe I’ll try sucking your dick again, but next time, it’ll be with the door locked.” I grinned.
He pulled me in again and kissed me hard. “I like you, funny girl. Saturday, okay? Hang out with Rafe on Friday, me on Saturday. Deal?”
I brushed my lips over his once more. “Deal.”
16
Rafe
The stairs creaked beneath my weight, protesting the way I thundered down them. At the bottom, I dragged my shirt over my head, while simultaneously trying to shove my feet in my shoes. I was late. I’d slept in, and my brain felt like mush. I’d been smoking more than usual, and it was messing with my sleep patterns. I was going to bed later but still had to get up for school. Which meant I was dragging ass through all my classes. I probably needed to cut back a bit. Take a break. Do a vegetable detox. Or something a little more clean and wholesome than avoiding all my problems by getting high.
“You’re late. Again.”
I ground my teeth together. That right there was why I smoked in the first place. Just one word from him, and my fingers twitched, craving to hold a joint, take a drag, and let the pot do its thing.
Being high was the only way my father was bearable.
The only way my life was bearable.
I pretended I didn’t notice him standing by the door in his preppy clothes. He wasn’t fooling me. We might have been a little better off than most of the people in Saint View. We lived in one of the nicer neighborhoods. Our house was under a mortgage instead of government-owned. But my father had delusions of grandeur. He dressed like he was from Providence. And on first glimpse, you might have been forgiven for believing the smarmy exterior he showed the world. He dressed nicely. No jeans or baseball caps like most of the other men around here. He always wore fitted pants and button-down shirts. His hair was always artfully slicked back, his beard groomed. But if you looked closer, you’d see his appearance was as phony as his smiles. His shirts were made of cheap fabric. The watch that gleamed on his wrist was a knockoff.
We might have had a little more than most in Saint View. But that didn’t make him better. In fact, he was worse. Much worse.
Mom and I were the only ones who ever got to see the real Todd Simmons. The rest of the world didn’t know how lucky they were.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, sidling up to her in the kitchen and kissing her cheek. “How are you?”
She gave me a worried smile. “Good, but your father is waiting. Here, quick. I made you some breakfast.” She pushed a plate toward me, and I plucked the warm toast from it. “Your backpack is by the door. Go, before…”
Before Dad lost his temper. Yeah. I knew the drill.
“Will you be okay today?
” I asked. I looked her over, but she looked perfectly put together. Her makeup was flawless, and she was already dressed, despite it still being early and her having nowhere to go.
“I’ll be fine. See you tonight.”
Reluctantly, I followed my father out the front door and to his car. Expensive, compared to the piece of crap he’d bought for Mom. But Mom wasn’t the one with the image to uphold, was she? I slumped into the passenger seat and pulled my backpack onto my lap. Ten minutes to get to school. Ten minutes I’d have to endure with the man, and then I could sneak off and get high before homeroom. Thank God. That detox would have to wait until tomorrow.
Dad started the car, glancing over at me as he got us on the road. “Sit up straight.”
I did as I was told, because it was easier than arguing.
“Better. Now listen, about tonight.”
I sighed. “I’ve practiced the speech, Dad. Just like you told me to.”
“Good. Has Lacey?”
“How would I know?”
Dad shot me a sharp look. “Haven’t you been getting friendly with her? I told you—”
“Yeah, you told me to show her around. I did.” Not exactly true, but Lacey had covered for me when my dad has asked about it. I owed her one for that.
Dad’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I told you to make friends with her. You know who she is. Who her family are.”
Yeah, he’d told me to kiss the rich kid’s ass, while Colt had told me to run her out of town. The entire situation just made me want that joint hidden in the bottom of my backpack even more. Colt was my best friend. My brother. He’d been there for me through everything, and if he said Lacey had to go, then I didn’t need to question him. He’d have a reason, and if he couldn’t tell us what it was, it had to be something huge. He’d been tortured when we’d pressed him about it. It still didn’t sit well with me.
But my dad wouldn’t take that lying down. And he had ways of hurting me. Ways that didn’t just hurt me, but others, too. And that was something I couldn’t handle.
Which left me in an impossible situation.
“What do you want me to do, Dad? I can’t make the girl like me.”