Noah wraps his hands around my neck and runs the tip of his nose down the side of my cheek. I can feel him lengthening between us. Terror fills my chest. I don’t want to lose my virginity, not like this, not with him.
“Please. Don’t.”
“My little virgin.” He moans, nipping at my ear. “God, I bet your little pussy is going to feel so good wrapped around my dick.”
“Noah.” I buck my hips, but again he remains rooted in place. I wiggle in vain, trying to free myself, but nothing is working. He’s too big. Too heavy. Too omnipresent. “Stop,” I cry out, letting go of any pretense that his presence doesn’t affect me. It does, in some ways that make sense, and others that I never want to admit out loud.
“Relax, Tru.” He drops his hands and takes a small step back. “I’m not going to fuck you in the foyer.”
“Promise?” I hate how small my voice sounds. I hate that I even have to ask him politely to not fuck me against my will, but I’m not going to let my pride prevent me from trying everything in my power to get him to stop.
He presses a kiss into the side of my neck, licking and biting his way across my jaw, then before I know what’s happening, his mouth crashes down on mine. His kiss is punishing. I try to turn my head, but he grips my cheeks, forcing my mouth open and his tongue slips inside. His hands find my ass and he pulls me closer, molding my body to his. He kisses me as if he’s trying to possess me. As if he’s depositing little bits of himself inside me to own me from the inside out.
“Kiss me back,” he demands.
“No.” I push against his chest, but he doesn’t budge.
“You know I like it when you fight me.” At his words, I pause, stilling my movements. My arms drop to my sides in surrender. “You’re an asshole.”
I swipe my hand at my mouth. “And you are an awful human being. Please leave.”
He runs a hand through his floppy hair and looks around. “I wanna see what your room looks like.”
“Never.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Fine.” He lifts me, hauling me over his shoulder, and slaps my ass. “I’ll find it myself.” He takes the stairs without much effort, even with my fists beating into his back. My door is the first one on the left and is wide open. Once we’re inside, he kicks it shut, and drops me, unceremoniously, on the bed.
He prowls around the space, picking up bottles of perfume and lotions, inspecting them each before replacing them. Pictures hang on the wall. Pictures of me and Becca. Me and my family. Memories from my old school in Chicago. My entire life summed up in eighteen candid shots. His fingers hover over one. He scowls at it before ripping it in half.
“Noah!” I shriek. His audacity is enough to break me out of my stupor. I’m on my feet and snatching it from his hands in seconds. It was my favorite picture of me and Devin. We’re at the diner, me tucked under his arm, him smiling proudly at the camera. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“You aren’t with him anymore.” He takes my phone from his pocket and wraps his arm around my shoulders, snapping a selfie of us. “You can replace it with that.”
“Do you know what entitled means?” I growl, snatching my phone from his hand. “What about psychopath?” I stomp over to the bookshelf and chuck the dictionary at his head.
He ducks and it falls to the ground with a thud. “You’re being dramatic, Truly.”
“And you’re being rapey, Noah.”
He shakes his head, falling back onto my bed with a bounce. “You took sex off the table, remember, killjoy?”
My eyes narrow. “So, then why are you still here?”
He points to the TV. “Netflix and chill?”
“I’d rather play in traffic.”
It’s his turn to narrow his eyes. “We could put sex back on the table.”
“Fine,” I huff, marching to the chair in the corner. “We can watch one episode of You, and then YOU need to leave.”
“Into stalkers, huh?” He grins, kicking his shoes off and settling back against a pillow.
“I’m researching how to get rid of one.”
He snorts a laugh, then gestures for me to join him on the bed. “Come here.”
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking. If I have to get up, you’ll be sorry.” I glare at him but don’t budge. He moves to stand, and I jump up and run over to the bed before he gets to his feet. He moves my braids out of the way and positions me between his legs, his hands settling on my midsection. “You don’t always have to fight me. You know that, don’t you, Little One?”
I look up at him, biting back the insult that sits on the tip of my tongue. I can do this. I can Netflix and chill to keep the peace and preserve my hymen. The TV glows to life and the opening credits roll. We make it halfway through the first episode, and Noah’s penis hasn’t made an appearance, so I let myself relax a little. The show is interesting, in a dark and twisted sort of way. I find myself rooting for the bad guy which is ironic considering my present company.
Noah is the villain of my story, though in the quiet of my room, when he’s trying to be sweet, I guess I can see the appeal. There’s a small scar in his chin, and I wonder where it came from. Absently, I run my knuckle along the raised skin. He catches my hand, bringing it to his lips, before returning it to rest on my thigh.
One episode rolls into another, and another, and somewhere along the way, I fall asleep.
I startle awake sometime later to a dark room, still wrapped in Noah’s arms. Real smart, Tru. Fall asleep snuggling with the asshole who seems to think it’s fun to torture you. I shift, reaching for the remote. Noah’s arms tighten around me and he drops a wet kiss on my neck. The kiss in and of itself is innocent enough, but it’s the bulge in his pants that’s firmly pressed against my ass that makes my mouth go dry.
“Noah, I think it’s time for you to go.” I shift, hoping to put some space between us, but he never loosens his grip.
He shakes his head and his hand dips under my shirt, his rough, calloused hand palming my breasts. “We Netflix’d, now it’s time to chill.”
“You promised,” I whimper, partly out of fear, and partly because he chooses that moment to pinch my nipple. I don’t know why I’m surprised. I’m the idiot who trusted him to keep his word, when nothing he’s done so far has proven he’s worthy of that trust.
Twisting in his arms, I try again to free myself.
“I’m not going to fuck you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he tells me as his teeth scrape the shell of my ear. His voice is low, and calm as if he’s trying to coax a scared kitten from its cage. “Tonight is about good memories, remember?” He rolls me to my back, pinning my arms above my head with one hand, and lifts my shirt and bra up with the other, trussing me up for his enjoyment. Dark eyes bore into mine, seconds before he ducks his head. His mouth is warm and wet as he trails kisses down the side of my breast. His teeth skate across my already sensitive nipples, and he runs circles around my areola with his tongue.
“God,” I cry out. I can feel myself warming to him. My body buzzes with anticipation. I don’t hate his touch so much when he’s gentle. I almost...no, don’t go there, Truly. “I don’t want to have sex,” I whisper, giving in to his sensual torment.
“We won’t. Not tonight.” He releases my wrists and sits back on his haunches and peels my shorts along with my underwear down my legs. His chest puffs up and down as he drinks in every inch of me. “I just want to make you feel good, Little One.”
I press my lips together. I can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing I don’t completely hate this. If I give Noah Tedesco an inch, he’ll take my virginity.
Chuckling at my defiance, he slaps the inside of my thigh. “Noah!” I yelp.
“Relax. I’ll kiss it better.” He ducks down, his mouth is so close to my core, I flush in embarrassment. He’s done this before, but that was different, darker. This time, my body pulses with need for him. It’s like it knows what he can do with his tongue and it’s
begging him for more. I want to hate it. I want to hate him. But I don’t, at least not in this moment. I don’t know if it’s his granting my no sex wish, or the fact that he’s conditioned my body to respond to his torment, but my tension rolls away the moment his mouth is on me. He licks long strokes up and down my pussy, savoring my taste, making a meal of me. My hands dig into his scalp and I pull a little harder than necessary. He chuckles, the sound rumbling through me, setting me on fire.
“More,” I whine, my voice sounds so foreign, so needy. He grants my wish, pushing two thick fingers into my core. I have never been this wet in my life. The sounds his fingers make as he pumps them in and out should make me flush with humiliation, but it feels too good to care about that right now. Noah knows exactly what he’s doing. His fingers move in and out and swirl round and round until he presses against a spot inside me that makes my legs shake. My back arches as his mouth latches onto my clit, and he hits that spot over and over again. I scream out, in an odd mix of pleasure and devastation, as tiny white pinpoints of light cloud my vision. My body tenses and I come violently all over Noah’s face.
Tears roll down my cheeks as he slips his fingers out. He lands on top of me, his mouth finds mine and he kisses me slow. His tongue coated with my arousal and this time—this time, I kiss him back.
My body shakes as my sobs turn uncontrollable. Noah Tedesco is my worst nightmare materialized in human flesh, and I willingly let him put his mouth on me. Self-loathing and regret battle for domination, all the while I cling to him. I pull him as close to me as I can get. I don’t know why. I don’t even like him, but in this moment, I need consoling.
“You’re trembling,” Noah says, kissing my forehead.
“I-I hate myself.”
His whiskey eyes soften a fraction, then darken. He tucks a braid behind my ear and bops me on the nose, a move that makes me cry even harder.
“Have a safe trip, Little One,” he whispers before standing and backing out of my room, leaving me naked on the bed, a quivering, crying mess.
I wake up the next morning with a belly full of shame and a phone filled with missed calls, texts, and Instagram notifications. I groan, recalling my embarrassing post-orgasm nervous breakdown. Noah couldn’t get out of here fast enough. Who knew, all I needed to do to get rid of him was express an emotion other than fear.
I replay the night over in my head. That boy is in desperate need of a psych eval, but what does that make me for putting myself into that situation with him...again? Once was his fault, twice…that’s on me.
Logically, I know I am not to blame for him being a shitty human being, but I can’t help feeling like maybe I deserve this. Maybe Noah is God’s way of punishing me for my mom’s accident? Maybe it’s his way of testing my faith?
My head hurts.
Rolling onto my side, I scroll through the barrage of angry messages from Devin.
Devin: Tru, answer the goddamn phone
Devin: Why is he at your house?
Devin: Truly
Devin: Stay away from Noah.
Devin: He’s bad news.
I sigh and drop my phone on the pillow and rack my brain, wondering how he could have even known Noah was here? Scratch that, I don’t care. He dumped me, then proceeded to ice me out of his life. He has zero right to be mad at me.
My phone rings again, and I’m half expecting to see Devin, but sigh in relief when Becca’s face pops up.
“Hey.” I smile, even though she can’t seem me.
“Are you freaking out?” Becca squeals into the phone.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to muster up the enthusiasm this moment requires. I’d been wanting to go on this trip since Nana gave me mom’s diary. All the planning and all the begging and now it’s finally here. I can’t let Noah, Devin, or my total and complete lack of self-preservation ruin this moment.
“This is going to be so epic! Bring your ass over here so we can get on the road!”
My smile widens. “Okay.” I throw my covers back. “I’ll be there in thirty!”
After a shower and a hot chocolate—with extra marshmallows—I text Dad to tell him I’m heading to Becca’s. He has to go back to the hospital, but he’s going to meet me there so he can see us off. Thankfully, we loaded my car up last night, so after I get dressed and throw my last few toiletries in my bookbag, along with my camera and Mom’s diary, I’m good to go.
One last glance around my room, and I’m down the stairs and out the door.
Fresh air fills my lungs. The sun shines. Birds chirp. Finally, a good sign. Not only am I excited for this trip, I’m excited to leave Newton behind for a few weeks.
Making my way to my car, I hit the unlock button on my key fob and scream.
“Holy shit.” I clutch my chest. Devin leans against my car wearing his standard issue black jeans and band t-shirt. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts,” he says as if his sudden reappearance is no big deal. I’m about sick of these Tedesco boys with their double standards. I’ve called, messaged, and texted Devin every day since he gave me that ride home, hoping for some sort of closure, and have only been met with resounding silence. Come to think of it, the only time he acknowledges me is when Noah is involved.
The thought enrages me. “You dumped me,” I yell, pointing a finger in his chest. “You’ve been ignoring me. I’m sorry I fell asleep the night before I take off on the biggest adventure of my life, and missed a few calls, but maybe now you know how I’ve felt every day since graduation.”
Devin shakes his head, fishing his phone from his pocket. He taps the screen a few times then turns it to face me. “He’s using you, Tru,” Devin whispers.
Grabbing the phone, I stare in shock at Noah’s latest Instagram post, captioned, Netflix and Chill. It’s a picture of us in my bed watching You. Only our intertwined legs and the television are visible, but of course he tagged me. Against my better judgment, I click onto the comments.
@Rich_TheKid: Noah’s slumming it with Tru?!
@basketball_bullshit: Yoooo, @dare_Devin is gonna lose his shit.
@2cheer4U: Brothers?! You’re such a slut Tru.
“Oh, my God.” I check the time he posted, it must have been when I fell asleep. He’s such a fucking prick.
“You know he’s doing this because he hates me, don’t you?”
“You don’t think I know that?” I shove his phone into his chest. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Then why the fuck was he in your bedroom?”
“He’s terrorizing me!” I yell. I have reached my breaking point with this damn feud. I brush past him, yanking open my car door. “I don’t want anything to do with either of you. Please leave me the fuck alone.”
Devin grabs my arm. “What do you mean he’s terrorizing you?” Worry creases Devin’s brow. His whiskey eyes bore into my skull as if he’s trying to read my thoughts.
“No.” I push against his chest. “Save your faux concern for the next girl dumb enough to get between you two. I have to go.” I slide into my car and glare up at him. “You can kill each other for all I care; just leave me the hell out of it.” I slam the door and turn the key in the ignition. It feels good to stand up for myself. I’m proud for the first time since Principal Davidson handed me my diploma. I hope my mom’s proud of me too.
Dad is already at Becca’s house when I get there. He’s got to go back to the hospital soon, but I can tell he’s seriously doubting agreeing to this. “You have the numbers for AAA?” he asks before I can even get my suitcase out of the trunk.
“Yes, Dad. I’ve got AAA programmed in my favorites, the hotel itinerary lined up, the gas card, extra chargers, pepper spray, and a partridge in a pear tree.”
Dad’s tired eyes crinkle at the corners. He grabs the suitcase from my hand and stuffs it in the trunk of Becca’s Mom’s car. “Don’t be a smartass.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. “I’ll call you every day.”
&nbs
p; “You better.” He hugs me back tightly. “No texting and driving.” His voice clogs up on the last part. Tears well in my eyes, but I force them back. It’s road trip day, there is no time for tears. Today will be a good day.
“I swear I won’t,” I promise.
Becca is having a similar conversation with her parents, and after triple checking the tire pressure, we say one last round of goodbyes before we finally hit the road.
Becca takes the first shift behind the wheel. I snap a picture of her in her sunglasses to post to Instagram, bypassing the sudden influx of friend requests, thanks to Noah making our Netflix and chill night IG official. I caption the picture Into the wild we go.
“So you and Noah, huh?” Becca grins, flicking on the turn signal.
“God, you saw?”
“The entire school saw. I’m probably the only one who realized he was in your room while your dad was on night rotation.”
“Devin realized,” I confess, “and he was pissed.” Becca turns her head to gape at me. “Watch the road!”
“Back up, when did you see Devin?”
“This morning.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. Five minutes on the road, and my Tedesco drama is already following me. I guess it’s best we get it out of the way early, then I can spend the next three weeks pretending neither one of them exists. “He was camped outside my house.”
“What a tool.” Becca pauses at a stop sign. “What did you say?”
“I lost it,” I admit, twisting the gold band around my thumb. “I mean, it’s like the only time he speaks to me is to warn me away from his brother.” The car turns down a side street, one that is in the opposite direction of the interstate. “Where are you going?” I ask, tipping my aviators down as we roll through a residential neighborhood.
“Okay, so don’t be mad.” She pulls to a stop behind Ethan’s car. I look up at the blue two-story house, I assume is Ethan’s and roll my eyes.
“Bec, I understand you’re leaving your boyfriend for three weeks, but I really just want to get on the road, plus didn’t you guys have a goodbye fuckfest last night? How much sex does one person need?”
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