by Fox, Logan
Am I a stupid romantic for thinking there’d be more? That there’d be love and devotion and some kind of commitment; the most kids our age can ever promise each other?
My hand folds around mom’s necklace.
You are an idiot, Indi. You’re weak, and sentimental, and you don’t deserve to lose your v-card on a rose petal scattered bed at some hotel. You had what you wanted. The perfect camera angle, a brightly lit space. Addy was moments away—
No. Marcus was moments away.
I stagger to a halt, and lean against the closest wall. I’m in the kitchen, and a few people are lingering here already. Some look up at my arrival, most don’t. That’s because they’re making out, zoning out, or purging, but I can’t hold any of those things against them.
After all, we’re just kids. This is the kind of shit we get up to when our parents are away. In this case, it’s the kind of shit Dylan lets other kids get up to in his house when his parents are away.
And then I see Briar.
He’s staring at me, smoking a cigarette like his life depends on it.
I’ve barely had more than two seconds to process anything since I’ve stepped past that red rope at the front door. And now, caught in this moment, I take my time to drink him in.
Screw that — he looks good enough to eat in his slim-fit tuxedo, biceps bulging against his shirt, bow tie at a roguish angle. I think his hair was meant to be slicked back tonight, but he’s obviously been pawing at it like he does, because it’s all over the fucking place.
Without realizing it, I move closer to him. At first, it’s as if I’m trying to find a quiet space in the busy kitchen. Circulating around the other kids like a leaf on the surface of a rippling river.
Briar was in the small lounge area a few steps down from the kitchen. But the closer I move to him, the closer he moves to me.
We meet on the steps, and in a second I’m against the wall again.
But this time, he doesn’t lift me up. His head is down, his mouth by my ear, and his hands are on my hips, holding me in place.
“I will be your first,” he says to me.
A shudder races through me. He touches my chin, levers my head up. “And if that’s not tonight, then I’ll wait.”
My stomach bottoms out. How the fuck could I ever have thought he was capable of anything Addy said he was? He might be rough around the edges, but Prince Briar’s only ever been—
Rough?
Cruel?
Brutal?
More importantly, how on earth am I supposed to entrap him into committing a crime when he’s just told me he’ll wait until I’m ready? I can’t do this. Any of this. My mind is in tatters.
I squeeze closed my eyes and turn my head away. “I have to go,” I murmur.
He wraps his hands over my shoulders, but I shove them off.
“Wait,” he says.
The command goes straight to my legs without involving my brain.
“I need you, Indi.”
I hear his words, but they’re gibberish. He needs me? For what? So he can get off?
I shake my head, but he catches hold of my chin and stops me. “If I can’t have you tonight, then at least let me taste you.”
Kissing? I glance away for a moment to consider.
This, apparently, counts as consent in Briar’s world. I barely have time for a yell before he’s pulling me after him.
For a frantic, panicked moment I think he’s dragging me back upstairs, and I almost dig in my heels.
But then he detours down a side hallway, opens a door, pulls me inside, and slams it shut behind me.
A bathroom.
Pristine, sparkling and shit…but it’s still a fucking bathroom.
“Briar, I’m not—”
He shoves a finger against my mouth. And then his hand is up the skirt of my dress, grabbing my pussy.
Fingers raking over my skin, he gathers my dress and hikes it up to my waist.
Shit. None of this is going to plan anymore. Addy doesn’t know where I am, I don’t know where she is—
Briar yanks down my underwear so hard, the fabric leaves burning tracks down my thighs. He holds up the sliver of blue lace and takes a moment to consider it before turning his icy eyes onto me.
“Is this supposed to be a joke?” he says, dangling the underwear he’d shoved into my locker the other day from his finger.
“Ha ha?” I say weakly.
He shakes his head, tosses the pretty panties to the far corner of the bathroom, and sinks down onto his knees in front of me.
A second later, my ass slams into the marble basin behind me.
“Up.”
He hoists me as much as I clamber up, my limbs moving like I’m stuck in a wet dream I have no intention of waking from.
Briar spreads my legs.
My cheeks burn as he studies my pussy with his head cocked to one side, like it’s a piece of abstract art.
A second later, his lips are on the inside of my thigh and trailing closer to my pussy. I grab his hair — more in self-defense than anything else — but he hardly seems to notice.
Shit.
Shit!
His breath stirs against my slit, and I cringe away from him, both deeply embarrassed and impossibly turned on.
Fingertips dimpling my thighs, he grabs my legs and shoves them even further apart.
Briar closes his mouth over my pussy, moaning against my lips as if he’s biting into the sweetest, juiciest fruit he’s ever had the privilege of defiling with his mouth.
I let out a low groan and arch against that heat, his wetness, those strong lips. My feet lift and settle beside me on the countertop, spreading me impossibly open for his ravenous mouth.
If this is nirvana, then I’d better start behaving myself so I can die happy.
“Fuck!” I growl out, grabbing a fistful of Briar’s hair. I force him harder against my clit. His tongue swirls against my clit before diving deep inside me.
Then he slides a pair of his fingers inside my cunt.
I jerk, moaning breathlessly before I start bucking against his knuckles.
Holy fucking hell, I can’t even. Moments ago, I was ready for him to fuck me. But if this is what it’s like when he goes down on me? The hallway wall isn’t going to cut it. I demand rose petals and champagne. Maybe even a satin blindfold.
Oh God, even the thought of him blindfolding me sends a shudder through me.
What am I doing?
Fuck it, I don’t care. The plan’s already ruined. I’ll try and pick up the pieces later, after…goddamnit I’m melting.
Briar’s tongue is a live wire, sending wave after wave of electric pleasure through me. I fuck his mouth without a second thought, urging his tongue deeper and deeper inside me.
His hands bruise my thighs as he grips me, pulling me into him as he licks me from ass to clit with the hunger of a starving man.
“Briar!” I yell, and it’s barely a second before I come. I buck against his mouth, a rush of heat and pleasure capsizing me.
I hear a murmured, “fuck” from below, but I’m too busy having my mind blown to pay attention.
I force his mouth as hard against my pussy as I can, groaning as I ride out my climax. His tongue sweeps over my folds and flicks against my clit, and I shudder as a last tentacle of pleasure releases me.
My shoulders brush the mirror behind me. It’s too cold, too hard, but there’s nothing left for me to fight with.
Briar grabs hold of the edge of the basin and hauls himself to his feet. If he took out his dick now, I wouldn’t have been able to stop him from fucking me.
Not because he’s just given me the most spectacular orgasm I’ve ever had…but because I wouldn’t have dared.
There’s something primal in his eyes. Something dangerous, toxic even.
He drags the back of his hand over his mouth, drops his eyes to my spread-open pussy, and slaps me almost absently. I yelp, my legs trying to close but blocked by the slab of h
is body.
“Go home, little virgin,” he says, his voice thick and rugged. “Go home before I change my fucking mind.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Briar
Indi slips past me, heading for the corner of the bathroom where I tossed her underwear. “Leave it,” I snap. She flinches, turning wide eyes to me, and then comes past on her way to the door. I grab a handful of her hair and haul her back. She protests when I kiss her, but I couldn’t give a fuck if she’s ever tasted herself or not.
I did.
I almost came undone how sweet she was. How wet. How her body shuddered when she came in my mouth.
My dick’s already painfully hard — kissing her like this is only making matters worse. I catch a glimpse of tears caught in her lashes before I shove her out the door and slam it behind her. Then I lock it, just in case.
Jesus Christ, what the fuck just happened? One minute I’m furious enough to break everything in this house. The next I’m eating Indi out in a goddamn bathroom. There’s a tentative knock on the bathroom door, but I ignore it.
I will my cock to soften, but it refuses. It doesn’t help that I keep hearing Indi saying my name, hoarse and desperate, echoing in my mind.
Slamming my hand into the mirror, I yank out my cock and stroke it hard enough to make myself grimace in pain.
Punishment for losing control again.
But like so many things in life, that pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter. That much more taboo.
“Fuck.” I stroke my cock again, then again. Harder, until my face twists in pain.
But when I close my eyes, all I can see is Indi’s rapturous face. Light gleaming from her lush mouth as it forms a perfect ‘o’.
She’s mine. I will be her first.
I speed up, grunting in the urgency to relieve myself of this deviant train of thought.
But I lied when I said I’d wait.
If life’s taught me anything, it’s that nothing is forever. People come and go like dandelion seeds. Drifting aimlessly for the longest time until a wind sweeps them away forever. I replay every second of what just happened, from Indi’s glare when I yanked off her panties, to the way she fisted her hand in my hair. How she rode my face, and how deep my tongue sank inside her.
As she comes, so do I.
* * *
Marcus is waiting for me in the foyer, Dylan and Zak nearby like sharks who’ve smelled blood in the water. The party’s still in full force, but the number of kids passed out on couches - or the floor — has increased since I last noticed.
“Where is she?” I ask, scanning the crowd in case she’s still nearby.
“Left with Addison,” Dylan says. “Dude, what happened?”
“She was crying,” Zak adds, giving me a frowning once over from beside Dylan.
They were at the party that night with Jess, but both of them were trashed out of their minds. I doubt they remember much more than I do. But now? There’s uncertainty in their eyes, faint disgust touching their mouths as they look first at each other and then at me.
“Nothing,” I snap. “Did they leave in the same car?”
Everyone but Marcus shrugs at me. When I glare at him, he nods. “Addy drove.”
“Fuck.” She was way too trashed to be driving, even if it was just the mile back to her house. “I have to make sure they’re okay.”
I head for the door, but Dylan puts out his hand to stop me. “I think you’ve done enough.”
Letting out a disbelieving, “What did you just say?” I step back and scan him with utter contempt.
“Just…go home, Briar.” Dylan drops his gaze, but he doesn’t step aside. His shoulders don’t sag.
“I didn’t do anything!” I yell, shoving him aside so hard he stumbles.
“But you wanted to, didn’t you?” Zak says as he steadies Dylan.
“What are you saying?” I storm forward, and suddenly both of them are upright, standing shoulder to shoulder, eyes narrowed and hands fisted. If the two of them decided to gang up on me then yeah, I don’t think I could take them both.
“Cool it, guys,” Marcus says. “We’re leaving, okay?” He steps in front of me, for all the world like he’s gonna protect me.
I glare at Dylan and Zak over his shoulder. “Chicken shit pussies,” I hiss.
“Come on, man, let’s get out of here.” Marcus turns, scanning me as if he’s checking for some last vestige of calm in my face.
I doubt he’ll find it. I’m about ready to rip through skin and claw apart flesh.
How fucking dare they—?
—think I was gonna rape her?
I sneer at them, take a slow step back, and then another. That’s when I notice everyone in the immediate vicinity is watching, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
There are phones out, too.
People have been recording this shit.
I storm out of Dylan’s house with blood singing in my fucking ears like a Valkyrie’s Aria. Obviously, Addy’s long gone by now — I just hope to all hell they made it back to her place without hitting anything on the way. She never seems to realize how much she’s had to drink, Addy. And Jess was always too pissed to care how she got home — or if she even got home at all.
“Wanna go check on them?” Marcus asks.
I turn to him. For a moment, I don’t have a fucking clue if he’s talking about Jess or Indi, but then I come back to the present with bitter finality.
“Yeah.” I climb in behind my Mustang’s steering wheel, and Marcus hesitates before getting into the passenger seat.
As I turn the ignition, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out and hurriedly unlock the screen.
She’s safe.
It came from the same number Addy’s been using to blackmail me with. There’s another message — one from my dad — but I’m too furious to read it.
“Fucking cunt,” I mutter. I throw my Mustang into reverse, grabbing Marcus’s headrest as I check behind me to make sure I’m not about to drive over some drunk kids.
“Who?”
“Addy. Bitch thinks she can get away with this shit, she’s got another thing coming.”
“What are you—?”
I make eye contact with Marcus for a brief moment as I turn forward, and he cuts off. “This bitch is done ruining my fucking life. You hear me?”
When Marcus leans away from me, I realize I’m yelling. I blink a few times and desperately try to compose myself before I slam my foot down on the gas.
It doesn’t work.
If anything, it pisses me off even more.
She’s safe.
Yeah, just like how Jess was safe all those times they went out to party without me. Those times my girlfriend called me from a strange bar to come get her because Addy was ‘on something’ and acting weird.
And she had the fucking nerve to demand Jess go home with her the night of Marcus’s party. That between me and Addy, I was one who’d let Jess come to harm?
“Dude, slow down,” Marcus says quietly.
I glance at him, and then do a double take. He has one hand on the dash, the other on the chicken bar above the car door. His face is a shade paler than usual, his lips a barely visible line.
I take my foot off the gas, inhale deep, and grip the steering wheel hard enough for my knuckles to go white.
“What happened?” Marcus asks.
“Thanks to you, nothing.” I shake my head, taking turns glancing at the road and back at Marcus. “The fuck was wrong with you tonight? I thought you had my back?”
“She’s trouble.”
“Christ, you say that about every fucking chick, bro.”
At this, Marcus shuts up. But now that he’s got me riled up, I don’t want to back down.
“What’s with you and Indi, anyway?” He was like this with Jess, too, but it’s worse with Indi. It’s like he’s taken her presence personally, as if every second I’m with her is an insult to our friendship.
“Nothing,
man. Just drop it.”
“You coming unhinged or something because of all that shit with your dad? Now you have to make my life worse than what it already is? It’s not my fucking fault your life sucks.”
Marcus twists in his seat, mouth wide as he lets out a disbelieving huff. “You think that’s what I’m doing? You think I’m trying to ruin your fucking life?”
“Well, you haven’t exactly been cheering for me to be happy anytime in the last two years.”
Marcus gives a bitter laugh and thumps his hand on the dashboard. “I’ve been protecting you, bro. These whores all just wanna use you.”
“And you know this because you’re some kind of an expert? When last did you even try dating someone, not just fucking them?”
Marcus lets out a low growl. “Stop the car.”
“Not a fucking chance. You’re coming in there with me, and you’re sorting this shit out. With me.”
“Fuck you, Prince.” Marcus grabs the door handle as if he’s ready to leap out of the car.
I slam my foot down on the gas.
Addy’s house streams past — I barely catch sight of her racer before it’s dwindling away to nothing in my rearview mirror.
“You know her from somewhere?”
Marcus grabs hold of the chicken bar again, gritting his teeth as if he’s ready for me to crash us into a brick wall. “What?”
“Indi. You said she looks familiar. Is that it? Do you know her?”
“No! I’ve never seen her before in my fucking life.”
“So what is it, Marcus? What is it about her that makes you fucking pissed off every time we’re together?”
“She’s not good enough for you! No one is!” Marcus throws me such a fierce glare, my foot slips off the gas. The Mustang slows, slows, almost stops.
I jerk up the emergency brake, and we stare at each other over the center console. Marcus’s chest is heaving as if he’s run a marathon, and my heart’s pounding like I was beside him every step of the way.
“What…?” I manage.
Marcus waves his hand as if to dismiss what he just yelled at me. Instead of explaining himself, he fucks off on a different tangent. “You think you have it so bad, Briar?” He runs his hands down his face. “You don’t. You’ve got everything you could ever want, you just can’t see it.”