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And his muscles weren’t the only part of him that was hard.
His lips on mine tasted better than I ever thought they would; I must’ve gotten used to the taste of chlorine. There was not a single hint of hesitation as I ran my hands down his chest between us, our mouths too hungry for each other. A low moan came from his throat when my hand brushed the area between his legs, the lengthening erection pressing against his swimming trunks.
Alec did not fight me when I broke our lip lock and pushed him off me, guiding him to the bed. With his back on top of the sheets, I then crawled on top of him, straddling him, getting my pants wet—but I didn’t care. I brought my lips to his neck, kissing his tender flesh, grinding myself against his hard-on, fully enjoying the moans that came from him.
His warm, strong hands ran down my back, dancing across my spine and setting a fire deep within me that I knew could only be put out by one thing. The one thing I was currently grinding on like it was my job.
If I took Alec here and now, if we had sex, would he start to follow me around like a lovestruck boy, or would I just become another notch on his bedpost? No, I wouldn’t think about it. Either way, this suited my plan. Why would Alec ever think I hated him when I was about to fuck him? I would blindside him, and the poor fool would have no idea until it was too late.
“El,” he moaned out my name, the cute little nickname he’d chosen for me, his fingertips digging harder into my sides. As I kissed his jaw, he whispered, “I want you so bad.”
There was a simple fix for that. I gave him a wicked grin, lifting my head and holding it directly above his. Alec’s green eyes were cloudy, hazy with a need for sex. His voice was rough and ragged, and I fought the butterflies going crazy inside as I said, “Then take me.” It was as good of an invitation as he was going to get.
Alec gently switched us, holding me against him as he took charge and laid me on the bed underneath him. His lips were slightly parted, and I could feel the hot breath coming from him, spreading across my skin like molten fire. My eyes fell to his chest, and I watched as he wiggled out of his damp shirt. Next came the swimming trunks…
Or they would’ve, if the door to the dark bedroom hadn’t just burst open.
“Get the fuck away from her,” a harsh, angry voice broke through our sexy time. A voice I instantly knew—Christian’s. With an iron grip, Christian grabbed Alec’s bare shoulder and hauled him off me, practically throwing him against the open door.
In the hall, Jessie was trying to plead with him, not understanding what was happening. “Christian, just stop! Let them—” She froze the moment Christian turned his glare on her, but it returned to Alec quickly.
Alec, to his credit, didn’t let the suddenness of the situation or the fact that he stood with an apparent boner pressing against his shorts affect him. He pushed Christian back, although Christian hardly moved, being built of steel and all. “What the fuck? What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” Christian echoed, voice rising. If steam could’ve been coming from his ears, I was sure it would’ve. “What’s wrong with you? I told you to stay away from her.”
“You can’t tell me who to stay away from,” Alec shot back. “You’re not a parent. You’re not a teacher. You’re just a jealous asshole.”
The asshole part I would agree with one hundred and ten percent. But jealous? That made no sense whatsoever. Why would Christian be jealous? No possible explanation rang in my head, and I felt Jessie’s eyes meet mine. Somehow I knew: if I wanted Jessie to continue to be nice to me, I had to leave this party now, before things got worse.
You might be wondering how things could get worse, and let me just say that, based on past experiences and life trauma, things could always get worse. Just when you think you know the bottom, that the roller coaster of life was about to head up a hill and start to be good again, it took another sudden, unexpected drop. Life could always get worse—and right now, I didn’t need Jessie as an enemy.
“I should go,” I mumbled, mostly to myself and for Jessie’s benefit. While the guys were busy glaring at each other, I moved into the hall, shooting Jessie an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…to cause any of this.”
Jessie said nothing, only watching me as I hurried down the stairs. The music still pumped through the house, and I felt the rhythm in my heart as I exited through the front door, ready to hike it home.
Why would Alec say Christian was jealous? There was no way he could be. Christian hated me, and everyone knew it. The whole class knew it way back when. It wasn’t like he wasted time pining for me while I was gone. The bastard probably threw a party the minute my mom took me out of that school and told me we were moving.
I still remember sitting in that hospital room, wishing things were different. Wishing…wishing I had someone else’s life.
I was hooked up to an IV, liquid pumping into me constantly. I’d lost a lot of blood, and even with the transfusion, they said I’d be tired for a while, not to mention the fact that my wrists would hurt for a long time, even after the stitches dissolved. They were keeping me for observation now, because of what I did. It didn’t stop Mom from making plans, though.
We were moving. Leaving this place and not coming back. Just me and her, on our own, away from Dad and his pretty, young girlfriend. Mom was getting better; she told me she’d tossed all the bottles in the apartment, that she’d work three separate jobs if she had to, all to keep me with her, alive and healthy.
I think…I think a part of her blamed herself. I knew she blamed Dad for some of it, but how could she blame anyone when the one who cut my wrists was me? No one else was in charge of how I acted or what I did, and it wasn’t like I was four years old. I knew the consequences of what I tried to do. I knew what would’ve come of it if Diane hadn’t found me.
Out of every emotion I could’ve possibly felt then, I felt mainly embarrassed. I didn’t want Diane knowing what I did, how I failed, and I hated how Dad looked at me now. Mom was the only one who looked at me normally, who smiled at me and told me everything was going to be alright.
Mom sat beside my bed, scrolling through something on her phone. When she saw that I was looking at her, she put her phone on her lap and smiled at me. A gentle sort of smile. “How are you feeling, Elle?” Even her voice was tender.
“Tired,” I muttered, being honest. No more lies.
“Just wait until you’re an adult, then you’ll know what being perpetually tired feels like.”
In spite of myself, I chuckled. God, I loved my mom. If I didn’t have her, I wasn’t sure if I would want to pull through. Be with Dad and Diane? No way. I’d rather run away and spend my life working at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. My mom was the only one I wanted to be with right now. If she could be strong, if she could give up alcohol and be an adult again, not wallow in what my dad did to her, to us, then I could be strong, too. We could be strong together.
“I love you, honey,” Mom whispered. “Just wait until you see the house I found. It’s small, but you’ll love it.” Mom had the money now that the divorce was settled. She’d gotten quite a bit out of Dad, and I was happy for it. With what Dad did, destroying our family, he deserved nothing.
“I love you, too,” I spoke, my eyelids suddenly feeling heavy. “I can’t wait to go.” I dozed off before I heard what Mom said next.
