“No,” he says, hauling me upright.
He undoes the button of his pants, and we both look down at his erection. There’s a bead of liquid glistening on the head of his cock.
He rolls on a condom and kisses me at the same time that he thrusts into me.
The pain of it is… shocking. Eye-opening.
I gasp into his mouth, and he only pauses for a fraction of a second.
Virgin, I’m sure he thinks.
Shame bubbles through the euphoria.
“You’ve always been mine,” he says against my lips. “This just fucking confirms it.”
I wrap my legs around his hips. We’re at the perfect angle. The perfect height.
And the fact that he didn’t just freak out on me lifts a weight off my chest. I didn’t realize I had been worried until now.
After a few seconds of discomfort—an alien feeling—he moves.
“I don’t want gentle,” I say, holding on to his biceps.
“Good thing, because my self-control is about to go out the window.” He slams into me, filling me completely.
In the back of my mind, I knew we wouldn’t be able to do easy. Just like we wouldn’t be able to do slow.
We’re fast and reckless and wild.
I dig my nails into his skin. He relentlessly hammers into me. A tingling feeling picks up in my lower abdomen and my teeth tear his lower lip. My heart is beating so fast, it might take flight.
“Scream,” he orders. He flicks my clit.
This orgasm is violent, a tsunami force. Better—or worse—than the first one. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.
He presses on my clit again, still thrusting into me.
I let my head fall back and I do. I scream.
I yell his name, my thighs tensing around him, until my voice disappears.
He quickens then stills, spilling inside me. We stay like that for a long moment, wrapped around each other.
His pulse hammers through our connection.
He pulls out slowly. There’s blood on the condom, on my thighs, on the counter.
He touches my cheek, smiling sadly. His finger swipes under my eye. “You’re beautiful.”
I slide off the counter. My muscles quake. “I need a minute,” I say in a low voice.
He inclines his head, and I slink away to the bathroom. It takes longer than I would expect to put my pieces back together. My resolve goes here, my dignity goes there. Inch by inch, I rebuild who I was.
Who knew sex would destroy me?
I clean myself. When I come out of the bathroom, Caleb holds out my bra and shirt.
I stare at the kitchen island.
“I’m going to fuck you on that counter,” he had promised. “You’re going to enjoy it, even knowing what happened here. Because all you’ll be able to think about is my dick in your pussy, spreading you wide. Hitting every. Fucking. Nerve.”
Horror washes through me.
He spoke the truth. I did forget. I let myself fall into his madness, and now…
“Caleb,” I choke out, grabbing my shirt and hugging it to my chest. “How—”
“How could I?” His eyes are dark. Glittering. He leans down until we’re face to face. “Have you learned nothing?”
I close my eyes. Tears fall hard and fast down my face.
He yanks my shirt out of my grip and puts it on me. Forces my arms through the sleeves and buttons the front. He takes my bra, my panties from where he dropped them, and slides both into his pocket.
“Let’s go.” He puts his hand between my shoulder blades and guides me out.
“You got what you wanted,” I say once we’re in the car. There’s a chill in the air, and my nipples harden under my shirt. I want to dive out of the car and walk home rather than let him see.
“Yeah, well, it’s not all sunshine and fucking roses up here.” He taps his temple.
We ride back to the Jenkins’ house in silence. I get out and jog to the front door without looking back, my backpack thumping against my shoulder blade. Lenora’s car isn’t in the driveway, and I manage to slip up to my room undetected.
I go to my window in time to watch Caleb’s car pull back out into traffic, slipping away like he was never there.
The haunted feeling I got when I walked into his house is still surrounding me, thicker than smog. He wanted to banish a few ghosts.
I guess that includes me.
23
I loop my arm through Riley’s as we walk toward the library. “I need a favor.”
She tilts her head. “Like bury a body type of favor, or want to stop and get coffee before school type thing?”
I snort. She unlocks the door, and we slip inside.
It’s been an exhausting week, but the good news is: it’s Friday.
Once Caleb returned to school, he made a show of being extra nice to me. He glared at anyone he saw making rude comments. That alone seemed to quell most of the bullying. It was a weird turn of events, considering how we left things Monday afternoon. Half of me expected him to pretend I didn’t exist and throw me to the wolves, as cliché as that sounds.
“Like a… drive me to the mall type of favor.”
She drops into her chair. “Easy enough.”
I don’t sit.
“Wait… do you mean now?”
“Just… miss lunch and maybe the next class.”
She squints at me. “Why do you need to go to the mall?”
I give in and sink down into the chair next to her. “My foster sister, Claire, asked to meet me. She knows I’m grounded…”
“Of course,” Riley groans. “And I’m the friend with a car.”
I reach over and grab her arm. “Please, Riley,” I beg. “I miss her. I haven’t seen her or Hanna—her sister—since we were taken out of the home…”
I don’t have to fake the tears that spring into my eyes. “I should’ve asked you yesterday, or—”
“You didn’t even mention her.” Riley looks up at the ceiling, blinking quite a lot. “God, stop crying. You’re going to make me ruin my makeup.”
I sniff.
She finally stands. “Okay, fine. One hour. I meet your foster sister. And then we come back so Mr. Jenkins doesn’t fry my ass.”
I nod. “Yes. Perfect. Thank you.”
I throw my arms around her shoulders, and she stiffens. She pats my back awkwardly until I release her, then she lets out a small laugh.
“Okay, follow my lead.”
We walk over to her cousin’s office. Riley taps on the door, and Amy jumps.
“Amy,” Riley says. “Margo is feeling super sick. Can you write us a pass to the nurse?”
Amy squints at me. “You’re sick?”
I put my hand over my stomach. “Yeah.”
“Are you pregnant?”
I pale.
She snorts. “Just kidding, of course. Humor. I can write you a pass…”
“Both of us? Amy, come on,” Riley pleads. “And…”
“Oh my god, what are you going to do? You look… devious.”
I bite my lip to hold back a frown. This isn’t going to work.
“Can you write us a pass back from the nurse, too? I’ll bring you Mom’s cookies on Monday.”
Amy’s eyes light up. “Her homemade chocolate chip?”