“What a fucking joke.”
“What’s a joke?” I ask with furrowed brows.
“Thinking that people can be saved, being a doctor is a waste of time.”
“Wyatt,” I state, because we both know that’s not true. And I decide not to give him the lecture of, ‘doctors save people every day.’ Because I know he’s meaning Sven, not the big picture, and he’s venting, so I let him.
“What is the use of learning something, spending years of my life learning something, that won’t do shit, it’s fucking useless.”
Without conscious thought, I move over to his side, sitting on the bed. My hand moves to his, taking it in mine.
“I don’t think it’s useless, I think you’ll make a phenomenal doctor, Wyatt. You care so much, I know that every patient who is lucky to have you, will see how much you will try to help them.”
His eyes look at our hands, his brow furrow as he stares.
“You won’t be able to save everyone, but that’s life. That decision is left up to a higher power, but I know you will do your best to help them any way you can. Please don’t say what you want to do is bullshit, just because you didn’t save your grandpa, you might save someone else’s.”
Blue eyes shoot to mine, then search my face. I shrug my shoulders slightly, unsure if I’ve said something wrong. His hand pulls away from mine and I prepare to stand, ready to leave and go back to the party. Obviously, talking with Wyatt wasn’t as helpful as I’d hoped. Hands cupping my cheeks startles me, and I inhale quickly, just as his lips attach to mine, his guitar falling to the floor with a clatter and sending discorded notes into the air. My mouth opens and this time the kiss is different. His hands are firmer, his tongue sliding past my lips and swiping across mine. My fingers wrap around his forearms, but then his hands move to my hips as he lifts me onto his lap, my legs instinctively straddling him. I’m a little taller than him in this position, and I fucking love it. Rough hands pull at my sweatshirt, yanking it up. The opening gets caught on my ponytail and I help to remove it. My hair tumbles down in a mess, and I’m sure there’s an awful crease where the elastic band was. But obviously Wyatt doesn’t seem to care, he’s too busy looking down at my tight hot pink sports bra. Thumbs rub over my nipples, and I’m fairly sure he can see them protruding through the fabric. My tummy tightens with his touch, my abs contracting every time he palms my breasts. My breath is panting against his face, my blood pumping, and my hands shaking. Still, Wyatt continues to plump my chest in his hands, pushing them together and watching them spring back into place. Thankfully, I didn’t inherit my mom’s small breasts. Actually, I never thought about them until now, but Wyatt seems to like what he sees. Does he know that his playful touches are making me crazy over here?
“Have you ever been with someone before?” he asks.
“No,” I whisper.
“Never? Not even like what we did last time? Kiss?” His eyes meet mine, I don’t know if I should lie. The way he’s looking at me like he wants me to say I have, but I can’t lie.
“Never…just you,” I answer, and hold my breath.
He lets out a long sigh, and I wonder if he will stop this. Take me off his lap and tell me we can’t do this. Instead, he leans down as his hands squeeze my boobs together, running his tongue along the line of cleavage. I swallow hard and for whatever reason, my hips push into him. There’s the feel of his enormous dick again, hard and long against his thigh. At this point, any dick in my inexperienced opinion would seem enormous, but my God, his was. When his lips took one of my nipples over my bra, my back arched as I whimpered. My hands slid up his shoulders into his hair. It was amazing that my body seemed to know what to do, since my brain was in space. He growled against me as he took the budded point between his teeth and bit down lightly.
“Oh,” I gasp.
My head dropped back, an electric shock shot through my whole body and I felt warm wetness against my panties. A palm at the back of my head brought it back up, our eyes meeting. He repeated the movement again, his teeth nipping my skin, this time a little harder. My lips parted as the electric current was even stronger, his eyes watched me, and I could see his spark with excitement.
“Harder,” I breathe.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Yes, I like it.”
I barely got the words out, before he was attaching to my other nipple, sucking hard then biting me there. I groaned, my hips grinding against him. I heard music begin to play in the distance, but I didn’t have the conscious level of brain waves to register it was the ringtone on my phone for Irys. Wyatt ran his hands down my toned skin, his fingers running over my abs to my hips. With eyes on mine, he cupped between my legs and everything inside me tightened. Again, without conscious thought, my legs lifted and parted for him, my hands sliding back on his thighs so I could lean back. Opening up for him, baring myself in a way I never had before to anyone. With the flat of his hand, he rubbed up and down my vagina. Sure, I’d touched myself, but it never felt like this. My chest was heaving, I could smell myself and wondered how wet his fingers were, because my panties were soaked. The tent was back in his pants, this time more contained with him wearing jeans, but still visible. I bit my lip, his eyes cast down to see what I was looking at.
“Do you want to see it?” he asks.
I nodded quickly, it was only fair, right? I was practically naked and he was still completely dressed. He leans back slightly, undoing his fly and reaching one hand inside. His knuckles white as his fingers curled around the massive thing, unfurling the beast from its bindings. It’s enormous as I predicted, thick, veins bulging beneath the thin skin. This was the first cock I’ve ever seen in real life, but something was there that I was not expecting. My hand reaches out to stroke the metal at the tip with my finger, it’s warm and moves through his skin like it’s a part of him.
“It’s a Prince Albert,” he says through quick breaths, as my fingers continue to toy with the jewelry.
“Wow, I never would’ve thought you’d have this,” I say.
“You thought about what my cock would look like?” he asks.
My eyes shoot up to his, he’s not asking as a joke or teasing me, but dead serious.
“Since you kissed me before,” I lick my lips.
Shit, he was all I’d been thinking about since that kiss. Daydreaming of what if he hadn’t pulled away, the things we would’ve done.
“Mmmm,” he mumbles, leaning forward to suck on my bottom lip.
My hand wraps around the top if his penis, moving up and down with short strokes.
“Shit,” he looks down, then resumes rubbing a hand between my legs.
We start to move together, stroking, and moaning against each other’s mouths. This feels good, but it’s not like when he put his teeth on me. I try to experiment and squeeze his dick tighter, concentrating on the thick head and piercing. His body jerks, his breath hitches, and I wonder if I’ve hurt him.
“Like that, keep doing that,” he groans and stammers out.
His low voice, the growl the emanates, makes a new rush of wetness pool between my legs.
“Can I try something?” he asks, and I nod.
I was willing to do just about anything at this point, as long as he just kept touching me. His hand strokes my lips a few more times, then zero in on my clit, rubbing small fast circles with his fingertips. The charge inside me builds, lights dance behind my eyes. Then suddenly, teeth sink into my nipple again, as his thumb and forefinger pinch my clit. I nearly shoot off his lap, and I scream.
“Holy shit,” Wyatt groans.
Taking my lips in a hard kiss as he repeats the motion, one point of sensation at a time, then together. My hand moves fast on him, twisting my wrist as I stroke more of his length. My insides are on fire, burning, and exploding. I can’t keep my reactions quiet, in between screaming and moaning, he’s mumbling things to me.
“I didn’t know you’d like this…your screams are going to make me come…I wa
nt you so bad…I want to tear that pussy up, that ass too.”
His words are making me crazy, even if they’re just words. Then the feeling changes as he removes my hand from his cock and replaces it with his own, looking down to see he’s pulled the front of my shorts down and is slapping the piercing of his dick hard against my bare clit. He’s groaning and gasping, fingers parting my folds as he smacks harder. Without thought again, I reach down and use my own fingers to open for him and I then watch his lowered eyes. It takes me a moment to realize as a large drop of spit leaves his lips and lands right onto my clit. My fingers rubbing it in, causing the piercing to clack against my fingernails.
“Daisy, shit, you’re, oh God, you’re perfect for me.”
My hands move to his shoulders because my nails need to sink into something, he leans closer and bites hard on my nipple.
“Wyatt, Wyatt,” I groan.
I come, back arching, nails clawing, coming. Warm liquid drenches my legs, my lower belly and thighs. As my body jerks and quivers, Wyatt rests his forehead on my shoulder, his breath hot against my damp sweaty skin. I look down to see droplets of cum still dripping from the tip, then scan lower to see he’s come all over me. He didn’t even need to touch himself, or maybe he did and I wasn’t paying attention. Soft kisses are pressed along my collarbone, and I inhale deeply, running my hands through his hair and clutching him tightly to me.
“I want you,” he says softly. “Do you want me?” he asks.
I lick my dry lips, not sure what he’s asking. Raising his head, he looks at my lips.
“Do you want me, enough to wait until you’re eighteen?”
Oh.
“You mean, to have sex?” I ask, confused.
Again my phone rings, Irys is calling me.
“No, I want…” he stops, eyes meeting mine. “I want to…all I can do is fuck you,” he says.
“What?” I question.
“I know, I know,” he rushes. “We only have the summer; you deserve more than sex but I can’t give you that right now. I want you so badly. There’s something about you, I can’t explain it.”
I kick his words around in my head, but I can barely think right now.
“If it doesn’t work, we can go back to being friends, I promise,” he says.
“I don’t know,” I sigh.
“You don’t expect anything from me,” he cups my cheeks. “I need that right now.”
I lick my lips, biting the bottom one because seriously, I don’t know what to say.
“How about, we meet for lunch tomorrow after you’ve thought about it?”
A banging sound comes from the bottom of the steps.
“Daisy, you up there?!” Irys hollers from behind the door and I startle.
“Yeah, coming!” I reply.
Hurriedly, I stand, almost falling backward as my heels knock into the guitar. Wyatt takes my hand as he stands, steadying me. Turning his back to me while putting his cock back into his jeans, and walks into the adjoined bathroom. I adjust my shorts and fuck, they’re covered in our cum. My bra is wet over my nipples from his mouth, between my legs is thrumming with aftershocks. I can’t help but smile as I revel in the feel of being a woman. He returns from his bathroom with a wet cloth and hands it to me, I clean myself up while he watches me. Taking the cloth as I finish, he tosses it onto a pile of clothes. Retrieving my sweatshirt, he pulls it down over my head and I shove my arms in, tilting my head back to re-do my ponytail. Wyatt reaches for something on the floor on the other side of the bed, producing a pair of pajama bottoms. I wonder if he’s changing for bed, but then he kneels before me, lifting my feet one at a time and sliding the pants up my legs. He stands and adjusts them at my hips, they are massive but I don’t care.
“You don’t like my shorts?” I ask with a little smile.
“I do, and so does every other guy out there,” he tells me. “There’s nothing more I want than to know you’re walking around in shorts covered in my cum, but our parents are out there.”
My heart flutters a little, not like I was into a man telling me how to dress or anything. But the gesture was kind of hot to me, the thought of him being jealous of other guys looking at me.
“Daisy!” Irys hollers again, banging on the door.
“Coming!”
I start for the steps, when Wyatt stops me, pulling me back against him. His large hands cup my cheeks, a thumb running over my lower lip.
“Tomorrow,” he says, kissing my lips.
“Yes, one o’clock, Plantain Diner?” I ask.
“I’ll be there.”
With one last lingering kiss, I pull away because I don’t really want Irys storming up here. When I reach the bottom step, opening the door, she’s leaning against the wall on her phone. Opening her mouth to say something, then looks me up and down and I wonder if she knows I’ve just fooled around with her brother.
“What are you wearing?” she asks, looking down at my pants.
“I was cold, Wyatt offered me these,” I shrug.
“That’s silly, you know you could’ve gotten something from my room,” she says looking up at the top of the steps.
I wonder if he’s standing there, looking at us. But then I step closer and link our arms, leading her toward the other staircase.
“Did he talk to you?” she whispers.
“Not really,” I shrug.
“I’m so worried about him, I mean Nolan was a mess too, but he seems over it now…Wyatt though, I feel helpless,” she sighs.
“He’ll be okay,” I reassure her, and not only because I know it’s true, but if I decide to be with him, there will be no more of this sad sack behavior if I have anything to say about it.
We head out to the back, and the Frederickson’s dog Mowgli comes running up to us. Their dog Bagheera had passed away a few years ago, and Mowgli was one of his puppies. He turns in circles and begins barking with excitement, then runs off again toward the other kids. The rest of the night I can’t help but feel a crest of excitement, not only what had happened with Wyatt, but the idea of being with him. I don’t know why he wants to wait until I’m eighteen, I mean yes he’s twenty-one, but I find it hard to believe that our families will care about that. Unless he plans on secretly dating me. I didn’t know how I felt about that, part of me understood that maybe it was a good idea in case it didn’t work out, then we wouldn’t have to explain anything to anyone. Even when I lay in bed that night, my body reminded me how good he made me feel, how he opened up to me about what he was going through, how he was taking a chance with me. I considered myself Wyatt’s therapy, if I could preoccupy him for the time being, help him get over his funk so that when the summer ended, he would be over his depression.
The next day I arrive close to on time, since it’s a beautiful day, I decide I want to wait for him outside. His bike doesn't appear to be here yet, and I can't see him through the massive windows looking into the diner. As I sit on one of the city benches, watching the people walk past and enjoy the sunshine, I try to ignore the time passing. When I finally can’t stand it anymore, I grab my phone and see I’ve been sitting a half hour. No messages, or missed calls. I call him and it goes to voicemail, so I text him, a 'hey did you forget about me?' message. When I hear nothing, and now it’s been over an hour, I begin to worry. I shoot Irys a text, if something is going on she will tell me, so I don't need to outright ask her if Wyatt’s okay. She tells me she's at home with her mom, and after a few more minutes of chit chat she says,
Irys: So Wyatt left.
Me: Left?
Irys: Yeah, told my parents today he’s going to stay with Aunt Kendall in Montana for the summer.
Me: Wait, what?
Irys: I know! my parents were super surprised, but Mom thinks it will be good for him to get out of Plantain for a while. Dad just dropped him off at the airport.
I don't know what to feel, part of me is pissed and the other sad. Am I being selfish? I want him to work out whatever shit he has go
ing on, and get back to college. Then again, I’m fucking pissed we make progress, he tells me he wants to be with me, makes a date, then ditches me without a word. Before I can even help myself, I close out the text screen and dial Wyatt again, when the voicemail kicks on I release the reins.
"I’m trying not to think I have anything to do with this, but you could've at least told you were leaving, I’ve been waiting and worrying for over an hour...I know you have shit to figure out, but this was a fucked up way to go about it. I don't want to think that this is because of me, that you take back what you said, what you want, and you’re too scared to be close-”
The message stops and I hang up. This is fucked up, this has fucked me up. My heart cracks, and for what? Girlhood excitement was all I had, I obviously didn’t mean anything to him. Just a girl, a stupid girl who gave him something obviously not that important to him, and didn’t even deserve a phone call. Embarrassment washes over me, it wasn’t sex what we did, but something that was a first for me. It mattered to me, and I thought I mattered to him. It reminded me that I was just a girl, and he was a man, a man in college fucking women left and right. I wasn’t going to pine over him, he left, fucked me over and I wasn’t having it. Fuck you heart. Fuck you Wyatt Frederickson, fuck you.
1
DAISY
Summer’s in full swing, and it feels good to not have anything to do but enjoy the time off. All my other summers have been filled with volleyball camps, summer leagues, assistant coaching for my sister’s junior team. But not this year, I want to be void of responsibility. My parents know somethings up with me, they think I’m going through some massive life change, which I am, just not over what they think it’s over. The idea of college, that goal I once strived for, aimed for, now seems like something I can care a less about. I don’t know why Wyatt leaving, using me and leaving me left me so broken, but it did. Every fucking day I reminded myself that I didn’t give a shit about him or what he did. Anytime anyone mentions his name, I zone out. A few weeks after he left, one of my classmates, Blake Milton, asked me out. It was innocent enough, I like Blake and we always had good conversations at parties and times we’d see each other. He’s hot and nice, with dark brown hair he wears messy and dark eyes that sparkle like Prince Charming. He’s the fullback on the high school football team and is heading to Notre Dame in the fall. I don’t want to admit to myself that I used him to get over Wyatt, but I did. Getting over Wyatt was also my rush into being intimate with Blake, to know another guy could touch me, kiss me, make me feel like Wyatt had…but Blake didn’t. He was a hell of a kisser, but he was just as inexperienced as me. When I told him to suck harder or bite me, he looked like I just asked him to kill his parents. On my eighteenth birthday, I got my nipples pierced. I thought they looked edgy and sexy, Blake, however didn’t.
Use Somebody: Plantain Series Book Four Page 2