“It might hurt a little.”
“That sounds like every line in every dumb teen movie with a virgin ever,” I tease.
“I’ll go slow.”
“I don’t want you to go slow.”
Drake’s fingers pull out of me, and he pushes my legs further apart. I lift my hips up slightly as he crawls closer. He hovers over me as he grips his dick and positions. His dick is so much bigger than his fingers, and when it pushes against my seam, I take a deep breath. There’s a reason that line is in every dumb teenage movie ever.
My body hasn’t had any practice for this.
He places his hands on either side of me for support now and watches my face as he sinks slightly deeper, parting my lips until he’s pressed against my opening. He’s not listening to me; he’s going slow. I nod, biting my lip.
And he pushes deeper, spreading me wide and sinking into my body. I gasp as, inch by inch, Drake Castleton claims me. He pushes so deeply that I feel how he seems to hit the end of me, like he can’t go any further. We’re as close now as two people can possibly be.
I close my eyes. The pain was sharp and intense, but it’s fading fast.
“Are you okay?” he asks tentatively, concern trying to kill the buzz.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper, opening my eyes. “Don’t stop,” I repeat, more intensely.
He takes me at my word, pulling out slowly and causing pleasure to rush through me from tip to toe. I moan against the sensation; it's as if his cock is touching a million little sensors inside of my body.
Drake keeps himself angled over me as he moves his hips, pulling out of me and pushing back into me, over and over again. The pain is completely gone now. I stare into his face and press my palms against his hard chest. This is different than I thought it would be.
More.
“Touch yourself,” Drake doesn’t wait for me to move on my own; he lifts a hand from the floor and supports himself against one outstretched muscled arm, and then he takes one of my hands from his chest and moves it down towards my groin. He keeps pumping his dick inside of me as I press fingers between my lips, pushing gently against my swollenness. I rub myself, and he fucks me faster than I think is humanly possible, dick plunging in and out of me so fiercely that I can hardly catch my breath, let alone rub my clit.
But I work myself over.
Into a new frenzy.
Drake is breathing fast, chest rising and falling quickly.
He’s on the edge.
“Fuck,” he yells as he thrusts into me one last time, our bodies slamming together.
And I keep rubbing circles over myself, riding the new wave that is cresting as he cums.
*
We clean up the evidence of our dinner and ‘dessert’. And with little time to spare.
A van pulls into the drive not long after we’ve dressed.
“I thought you said skiing could be an all day thing?” I try and fix my hair. It’s curly and wild.
“I said it could be. Hundred bucks Steve hurt himself again.”
Sasha and Steve barrel through the door right after Drake finishes the sentence. Steve has a soft cast around his arm. Sasha looks exhausted.
“I’m guessing skiing didn’t go so well?” I ask tentatively, standing up and walking over to help.
“This idiot,” Sasha cocks a thumb over at Steve, “decided he should take a detour. Not thirty minutes in, he slammed into a tree and we spent the rest of the time waiting for the lodge’s emergency team.”
“It looked like a proper run!” Steve grumbles, obviously having made this argument many times since the accident, and stalks over to the living room area.
“It looked nothing like one of the clearly marked and designated ski paths, Steve.”
“Well, it sounds like you had a more interesting time than we did,” Drake shrugs, standing up from the couch and letting Steve fall dejectedly against the plaid.
“Can’t believe I got hurt. Now the whole trip’s a wash.”
“Yeah, guess there’s not a whole lot you can do with an injured arm,” I frown, realizing that the cabin is going to be occupied the rest of the trip. I glance over at Drake, and his expression makes it seem like he’s realized the same thing.
“It’s not broken. Maybe it’ll be better tomorrow.” Steve looks hopeful, until Sasha barks at him again.
“You are not getting back on the slopes, Steve. You are going to baby that arm until we go home, and then you’re going to go to the doctor and make sure it really is only sprained like the paramedic said.”
“Come on, babe. I might be right as rain tomorrow.” Steve gives her puppy eyes and Sasha groans in annoyance.
“Why don’t you hang out here with Steve, Sasha. I’ll walk Tarryn back to your cabin.” Drake offers them some privacy. He tries to get us a few more moments together.
But Sasha is having none of it. “Nope. You deal with him. I’m done for today.” She turns around and stomps back outside.
Drake and I look at each other.
I smile and give him a little shrug.
And follow Sasha.
We still have time.
There’s no going back now. Not for me.
17.
D R A K E
&
T A R R Y N
(perspective, alternating first)
Tarryn- Missed you. Was Steve totally bitter the rest of the trip? I typed quickly, thumbs flying over the phone’s tiny keyboard. Drake and Steve stayed until Christmas Eve morning in the mountains. I hated coming home before them, but I’d made a deal with my parents. My mom would have slapped on the guilt butter like crazy if I hadn’t come back home early as planned.
#
Drake- He was miserable. No, check that, he made me fucking miserable. I hadn’t told Tarryn yet how I’d come home to an empty house this evening. Tomorrow, on Christmas morning, the house would still be empty. My dad was in Morocco, the business deal taking longer than expected to finalize, and my mom had decided to stay in rehab. It would have seemed like a normal Castleton Christmas, if not for the file left on the kitchen island from a big wig divorce firm.
#
Tarryn- Sasha said she was ready to leave, and he was driving her nuts, but then she talked about him the whole drive home. And I swear to God, she kept me up until midnight talking about how she missed him. I wondered what Drake’s Christmas was going to be like tomorrow. At my house, we’d already put up the tree and trimmed it with my childhood ornaments and a ridiculous number of lights. The floor around the tree stand was obscured by dozens of presents. The ones from Santa would magically appear later. My parents had gone crazy this year, buying things for Sasha too, and they both kept tearing up over it being the last Christmas before they were empty nesters. Sasha spent most of her time texting Steve, but she’d chipped in too, baking cookies and building a gingerbread house. We were watching my dad’s favorite seasonal movie tonight.
#
Drake- They're both ridiculous. Were my parents finally getting a divorce? What the hell was going on... The house phone rang, and it made me jump. It rarely rang. In fact, the only thing the phone had ever done consistently while I was alive was sit quietly against the receiver and do absolutely nothing. Dad preferred his cell phone, for business and privacy. Mom was just never fucking home enough for anyone to think to call her here. And I never gave the number out. To anyone. I ignored it. The number wasn’t listed, but maybe it finally ended up on some solicitor’s cold call list.
#
Tarryn- What are you doing for Christmas? Does your family have plans? You can come over here if not. I didn’t want him to be alone. And I missed him. My cheeks warmed with blush as I thought back to the cabin. We hadn’t had much alone time after Steve had gotten hurt, but we’d managed a few kisses, a few touches. It wasn’t enough, not after experiencing the whole package.
#
Drake- Hold on. It’s the house phone. No plans though. Brb. The phone was still ringing, so I
padded over to it and picked it up, carrying the wireless into my dad’s office, just because he wasn’t here and fuck him. He didn’t like me in there, so that’s where I’d go.
“Yes?”
“Hello, Drake?”
“Grandmother?”
“Yes, can you come over tomorrow? For Christmas? It’s come to my attention that you will be alone. And we have much to discuss.”
I thought for a moment, but I couldn’t say no. I’d just have to see Tarryn afterwards.
“Sure, I’ll come over.”
“Very good, Drake. See you then.”
The phone clicked; she’d hung up without a goodbye.
But she’d invited me over for Christmas. It’s funny how much I was beginning to understand her, to like her even. Separated from the voice of my father and mother, I could judge her on my own. She was a straight shooter. She didn’t mince words.
So maybe she’d tell me what the hell was going on with my parents.
#
Tarryn- If you don’t have plans, then come over. Okay? Sasha will still be here, but she can deal. It seemed like the hours were ticking down, our time left in River Valley together and at Castleton High growing ever shorter. Things had been different since Drake and I had… been together. I hadn’t wanted to tell anyone after, instead choosing to keep it to myself. But Sasha, of course, had found me out immediately. She said she could ‘just tell’ that I’d ‘done it’. She was irritatingly perceptive like that. And, of course, she’d given me a piece of her mind, railing at me that Drake hadn’t deserved a second chance, let alone my virginity. Which, by the way, was in no way a measure of my worth now that I’d lost it. I wasn’t lesser, or more. Sex was sex and a woman had an infinite sea of more important merits. Another seed of wisdom proffered from her modern grandmother no doubt. But regardless, did it have to be Drake? Couldn’t I have held out for someone a little less chauvinist pig? I’d laughed at her and hugged her. She cared. How could I be mad? And she’d let the matter go… eventually. Though Drake coming over might reignite the flames of feminist fury.
#
Drake- Sorry. That was my grandmother on the phone. She wants me to come over tomorrow morning. I’ll stop by your place after if that’s cool. I’d missed Tarryn so fucking much and would have come home at the same time if Steve hadn’t whined over being in pain and not wanting to make a long trip yet. My entire body craved her. Hell, my fucking soul and heart craved her. It was physical, emotional, spiritual. I’d been with a lot of girls. And women. But there was only one Tarryn.
#
Tarryn- Okay. **smile face** I miss you.
#
Drake- Not as much as I miss you.
18.
G R A D U A T I O N
(perspective, third)
-a brief epilogue-
The months before graduation flew. For all of the seniors at River Valley, but for Drake Castleton and Tarryn Monroe most of all.
They’d found a way back to each other, and now they couldn’t get enough. Enough of date nights. Enough of hugs. Enough of kisses. Enough of the backseat of the green convertible Drake had gotten back when his parents felt guilty over their ugly, ugly divorce and wanted to buy him off.
When Drake was having a hard time with his family situation, Tarryn gave him comfort, without asking for anything in return. When Tarryn had to focus for a test and they couldn’t really ‘be’ together, Drake was at Tarryn’s side. Calling out questions and checking her answers. When she didn’t need him, he’d read a book. The same book, actually, every time. A book about lines and squares.
She had given him a second chance, and he had rewarded that trust with loyalty.
Tarryn had met Birdie Castleton, the matriarch of the Castleton family.
Drake had many a dinner with the Monroe family. Takeout, every time. Well except for that once when Mr. Monroe had barbequed, and Mrs. Monroe had burnt the bread pudding beyond recognition.
The lake was Drake and Tarryn’s favorite place to sneak off to. They’d strip to their underwear and cleave through the water, with zero worries that a scorned girl might be hidden in the woods.
*
But change was on the horizon.
And wearing the cap and gown made everything all too real.
It was Saturday morning now. The stage was set. Parents were crying softly into tissues. Kids were whispering excitedly, so relieved to be done with the trappings of high school. None of them knew what they were in for, out in the real world. They’d find out soon enough; it was a time-tested rite of passage. And eventually, each of them would think back on their childhoods and realize that there were moments when maybe they shouldn’t have wished time away.
Drake was in navy blue from head to toe. No NHS or Beta ribbons. No accolades. But, through some miracle of last-minute academic enthusiasm and a hefty donation of money towards Castleton High’s future maintenance, he was walking the stage.
Tarryn was also in navy blue, but she donned the NHS aquamarine and white ribbon, the Beta orange and gold cord. She carried with her an acceptance letter folded and tapped to the inside of her cap, along with a picture of her parents. She hadn’t gotten her first choice school, or even her second, but her third choice school was still Ivy League. Still, something to be proud of. Her parents were certainly proud.
Drake, resident King and bad boy of River Valley, though he did not tap his letter to the inside of his graduation cap, he still carried with him the knowledge that he’d gotten into a school without his family name doing the work for him. It was a state school, not Ivy League. It wasn’t a name that commanded respect when spoken aloud. But he had gained acceptance, without scholarship, and he planned to pay his way through each and every class.
The decision had made his grandmother Birdie beam with pride.
His father and mother hadn’t understood why he had to be so damn stubborn. Life could hand him a silver plate. He was a legacy. It would take a single phone call from his father, even though his father was no longer acting head of Castleton industries and Grandmother Birdie had passed the baton to a trustee by the name of Shamus Miller, a retired CEO who knew his way around a board room.
The Kingdom was in good hands, until such a time when Drake had earned the right to decide if he would wear the proverbial crown. His grandmother knew that he would do things differently. He would make Castleton Industries his own. Something his father had never done.
You are born into privilege, but you must earn the responsibility of it.
“Ann Casings,” the vice principal’s voice called out the student roll. A young woman with long bleach blonde strode across the stage. Her family cheered. “Steven Cass.” A tall, lanky guy with a shock of orange hair followed Ann.
It was nearly Drake’s turn to walk. To shake the Principal’s hand, to take the diploma. His grandmother was here today, but not his parents. And that was fine by him. He wished he could have sat next to Tarryn. But Cs and Ms were rows apart.
“Drake Castleton.” The vice principal seemed to boom, the microphone sound leveling up as if to say ‘he graduated? I don’t believe it!’ But, of course, he had. Again, with the last-minute ‘hurrah’ of Herculean effort, again with the family money. Green enough to go around, green enough to build a new sports center.
Drake ascended the stage stairs, his gaze moving first to Tarryn who beamed up at him, and secondly to his grandmother who gave him a quick nod of approval. Perhaps it was his imagination, but she nearly smiled. Nearly.
The Principal gave him the rolled-up paper tied with a gold bow. A placeholder until the proper certificate mounted within a folding faux leather casing arrived from the district. The school never had the actual diplomas in hand on graduation day. It was a chronic failure of the system. Maybe it was purposeful, though, to make all the seniors come back to the school building one more time. To say a proper goodbye.
Drake descended the stage, returned to his seat, but not before flicking a smile at his girlfr
iend.
Tarryn waited patiently for her turn to walk; her heart raced with excitement, but her thoughts were a little sad.
She was a proud nerd, through and through, and she’d given Drake Castleton—the bad boy and serial sex machine with a checkered past—a second chance. And she didn’t regret it.
They still had the summer left to enjoy, but then what would happen?
When the ceremony was over, pictures were taken under the largest tree near the school. Birdie Castleton, to her credit, made small talk with the Monroes, though it pained her to do so. She had little patience for the machinations of small people.
As soon as the last camera flash faded, Drake and Tarryn threw their caps into the wind and raced towards the green convertible. They jumped inside, the engine rumbling to life seconds later. They waved at their families and jetted off towards the lake. Their favorite spot. Sasha and Steve would meet them there soon, with drinks and food in tow. No doubt by evening, the lake would crawl with graduates and rising Seniors.
Two months until they were off to college.
Change was not just coming; it was here now.
And only time would tell if a Square could stay in love with a bully.
***
Thank you for reading the ‘King of Castleton’ Series.
This finishes the look into Drake & Tarryn’s high school years together...
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Balls: A Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 4) Page 13