Punk 57 (43 page)

Capping the pen, he moves up and over me, lifting my shirt over my head. I arch my neck back, meeting his mouth and kissing him. His teeth nibbling my skin sends an electric shock down my belly and straight between my thighs.

I guess the nap helped. He slides his hand under my chest, cupping my breast and I’m already turned on.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

I stare at his lips, dipping in for more.
Hell, yes
.

I groan, my eyes damn near rolling into the back of my head as his mouth trails down my neck, devouring me in hot, demanding kisses. He grinds his hips into me, and I feel the hardening bulge between his legs.

“Talk to me,” he whispers. “I need your words.”

Talk? Now?

His hand glides down my bare back, brushing my hair and making it tickle my skin. He takes my ass, kneads it, and without thinking, I bend my knee to the side, opening myself for him.

“Before I met you,” I say against his lips. “I fantasized about you.”

“But you didn’t know what I looked like.”

“I knew you were Misha,” I reply. “That was enough.”

He groans, nibbling my ear and dipping his hand between my legs, his fingers sliding inside of me.

I close my eyes, the pleasure of him filling me making me wetter.

“One night it was storming, like tonight,” I tell him, “the lights went out, and for the whole evening, it was dark and quiet.”

His fingers come out, swirling around my clit, and I shudder. My breath is shallow, and I’m unable to stop my hips from trying to rub into the bed and his fingers.

“I reread all of your letters that night,” I pant. “I love the ones about when you got your first car and how you and your friends got arrested for the kegger out on some farm. You sounded so bad, so much fun.” I lean back, longing for his mouth again. “But the letter I love more than all the rest is when you told me about your ex-girlfriend after you’d broken up. I was so mad at first. You had a girlfriend, and you hadn’t told me, but…I think that’s when I first realized…”

“What?” he breathes out.

“That I wanted you. You were mine.”

“I was,” he assures. “It didn’t take me long to realize that I couldn’t talk to anyone like I talk to you.”

And I feel the same way. I always did. I couldn’t go out with anyone without comparing them to Misha. He had every right to date, and I’m sure whoever she was—or they were, because there were probably more—they weren’t bad people, but I still felt territorial.
I knew him first. No one was going to know him better than me.
I know I had no right to feel those things, which is why I never told him. Until now.

“I started fantasizing about you that rainy night. It was the first time I ever daydreamed about you.”

“What did you do?” He pushed his two fingers in deep, rubbing my spot and grinding himself on me. “Did you want to be her?”

I shook my head. “I wanted you to see me. I wanted you to see me and want me so much. Not just my letters, but my body, too.”

“What’d you do?” he whispers in my ear.

I moan, feeling a wave of pleasure fill my thighs and pussy, and I back up into him, wanting to be filled. “I laid in bed,” I say, “and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was so dark, and the AC wasn’t running. The more I thought about it, the hotter I got…until...”

“Until what?” He pumps my pussy faster, grinding his dick harder. “What’d you do?”

“I pulled up my shirt…”

“Yeah?”

“And imagined you were standing in the corner of my room, hidden in the shadows, watching me finger myself.”

“Don’t stop.”

“My skin was damp with sweat, because it was so hot,” I whimper, reaching over my head and holding the back of his neck, “and I slid my hand down my panties…”

“Did I like what I was seeing?”

“Yeah. We were always just friends. So calm, relaxed, and cute, but I wanted you to want me. I wanted you to see me and need to be inside me.”

“Did you come?” he growls low in my ear as I rock into him. “Did you come, thinking about me watching you?”

I nod, completely lost in the vision and his fingers. “I knew I’d do anything you asked me to. I’d let you have anything you wanted.”

“Is that true?”

“Anything.”

He removes his fingers from inside me, and I hear him unzip his pants.

“And what do you want?” he asks, his fingers gliding up my ass again.

I know what he wants. My heart is pumping wildly, and I’m shaking with need.

I lean my head back again, gasping over his mouth. “I want you everywhere.”

I feel his smile curl over my lips right before he kisses me. He moves his fingers between my thighs again, rubbing and getting me wetter with need.

“Everywhere?” he whispers.

I nod. I’m his. All of me.

I want him all over me.

His breath shakes over my lips. “Don’t do this because you think I want it,” he pleads. “I only want what you want to give me. I need to know you trust me again.”

His dark hair sits over his forehead, and his beautiful eyes tell me everything I need to hear without saying anything.

He hurt me, and I hurt him, but shit happens and love doesn’t change. He makes me happier, he makes me stronger, and he knows everything and still wants me. If he can say the same, then this is it. The real thing.

It’s us together.

My mom told me once “Life is fifty wrong turns down a bumpy road. All you can hope is that you end up somewhere nice.”

“I trust you,” I say, sinking into his mouth. “I want you.”

He swirls the wetness between my legs farther up, and I slide my hand between me and the bed, rubbing my clit as he positions himself. I’m throbbing everywhere, and my heart pounds in my chest as he pushes the tip in and stops. I gasp, feeling a tiny burn.

I contract around him, breathing hard and rubbing myself faster.

“Ryen,” he breathes out. “Do you want me to stop?”

I shake my head, feeling so filled and good. I didn’t expect that. “No. I want more.”

“Oh, God.”

He slides in slowly, all the way, and I arch my ass up, giving him a better position.

“Holy shit,” he growls low. “You feel so good. I need to…”

I close my eyes, every nerve alive and pulsing with need. He comes down on my back, kissing me as he thrusts out and back in deeper.

“Ah,” I moan into his mouth.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” I whimper. “Go faster.”

He smiles, holding himself up with one hand and holding my thigh where my leg and hip meet. “Are you sure?”

I nod, intense pleasure washing over me and making me grip the pillows as I arch my neck back to meet his lips.

“I trust you,” I tell him.

And he bites my neck and starts fucking me harder, not holding back and neither of us being quiet.

For the rest of the night.

My entire body feels like I was caught in a tornado. My arm muscles are sore, my neck hurts, I have bruises on my hips, and my ass…

It was fun while it was going on last night, but after waking up this morning in pain everywhere, I told him we can’t do that again.

He just retorted that my body wasn’t used to it, and we should do it more.

Man, our fifth-grade teachers would be proud.

I pull into a parking space at school and groan as I gingerly climb out of the Jeep. We were up half the night, and while I’m not at all tired, I’m kind of regretting not staying home and soaking in a bath today. I’m supposed to teach swim tonight, and I forgot the Advil at home.

I reach into the back of the car and pull out my duffel with my swimsuit and change of clothes. After we woke up early this morning, Misha drove me back to school to collect my Jeep, and then he went to the Cove to pack up his stuff while I went home to shower and clean up.

I’m not sure if he’s going to be in school today, but then I feel hands come around my waist and I break out in a shiver as a whisper hits my ear from behind.

“Are you sore?” he teases.

I arch an eyebrow and turn around, seeing him smirk down at me. “Are you kidding?”

“It was fun, though.”

I can’t hold back the smile as my cheeks warm.
Yeah, it was.

We walk into the school and head for my locker, and I notice he’s sticking by my side.

“I’m fine, you know,” I tell him. Yesterday—Trey, Lyla, and the lunchroom—feels like ages ago. I’m not scared.

“I know.”

“Masen,” someone calls.

I turn around to see Ms. Till, the Art teacher, carrying a pink slip. She hands it to him, speaking sweetly. “The principal would like to see you in the office. She wanted me to give you this in first period, but I just spotted you. You may as well go now.”

He takes the slip, and she pats him on the arm, walking away. Misha doesn’t read it, merely crumbles it in his fist and tosses it to the ground.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “If she can’t get a hold of your parents about the fights, she could bring in the police. Do you want to be found out?”

“I think we know how well I stay arrested,” he retorts, a cocky look on his face.

I roll my eyes. Yeah, okay, Rich Boy.

Pulling out my sketch book, I spot the cashmere scarf still hanging in the locker, and something hits me. He gave me a new scarf that first week. With perfume on it.

“Whose scarf did you try to give me that first week?”

His eyes drop, looking somber. “Annie’s.”

Annie’s? His sister?

And then my eyes go wide, and I turn to him, remembering what I’d said. “Oh, my God,” I burst out. “Annie. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

I cringe at myself. I called her a skank, thinking she was some random girl who’d left her clothes behind in his truck.
Shit.

“It’s okay.” He gives a half-smile. “I know you didn’t know.”

Ugh. I feel sick. I’m the worst.

“Well, you couldn’t give it to me anyway,” I scold. “She’d want it back.”

He grows quiet, avoiding my eyes.

I’d totally forgot his sister in all the drama. She’s a junior. Where was she last night? His dad must’ve come home during my nap, because Misha had to lock the door later on so he wouldn’t walk in on us, but Annie was never mentioned.

“Mr. Laurent.”

I turn my head to see Principal Burrowes coming down the hallway. Students move around her, everyone heading to their first class.

“In my office,” she orders. “Now.”

He turns away from her. “No, thanks.”

I stand frozen, watching.
Just go, Misha.
She’s not going to let him off the hook, and it’s only going to escalate.

“Now.”

“I’d rather not leave my friend alone when that piece of shit son of yours is roaming the halls,” he snarls. “Aren’t there laws about sexual predators not allowed to be within a certain number of feet from a school?”