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And if they messed with me? They were fucked.
We came upon Sawyer’s house after another few minutes, his driveway jam-packed with cars, even in the grass. The curtains were drawn, and walking up to the front door, you’d never know how loud it was inside. I wasn’t sure there was a party tonight, but I was decently sure that he had one almost every weekend. The only reason he didn’t have one last Friday was because it was the day of our date.
Our fucking date, where I almost fell for his games. I was still mad at myself about that, actually.
I was the first inside after tossing a look to Will, wordlessly telling him to be scarce. He got the hint, disappearing in the crowd. The house was full of bodies dancing together, grinding on each other so hard it looked like they were having sex right there in the living room, where all the furniture had been pushed aside to make room for the makeshift dance floor.
The girls were dressed in tight clothes and short dresses, and I had no idea whether or not Travis was here. I’d deal with him later. For now, I had to find Sawyer…or that girl. I went into the kitchen, finding a small crowd of girls, tailed by two guys, pouring their own drinks. The alcohol always flowed freely at these things, even though half of these people were underage.
When they saw me, they parted, allowing me to grab my own red solo cup and fill it to the brim with…well, with whatever looked the most expensive. They parted for me like I was Moses and they were the Red fucking Sea.
I took the smallest sip possible of my drink, gagging myself as I scooted past the crowd and stood in the hall near the living room. I surveyed the dancers, wondering if I’d find them here. Maybe I needed to go upstairs—or, hell, maybe I would be the only pink-haired girl at this party. Maybe he’d already gotten rid of her.
How would my plan change then? I hadn’t thought about it, because deep down, I knew Sawyer wouldn’t get rid of her so fast. He wanted to use me so badly, he’d settle for her, and he wouldn’t toss her out like trash so soon. Sawyer would want to revel in it.
And then, like magic, I spotted a pink head bobbing in the crowd, towards the center of the mass of bodies. Her pink hair was almost hideously uneven, and already incredibly faded. It looked nowhere near as good as mine, but I’d been dying my own hair for years. It was my one extravagance, the one thing I enjoyed doing that I spent a little money on.
Hers? It looked like a bad dye job gone horribly, horribly wrong, kind of like an infected tattoo. Ugly. Or maybe that was me simply trying to nitpick and make myself feel better about this whole thing, because I felt like shit.
I felt like shit, and I was pissed.
Sawyer’s head eventually turned in my direction, and when we locked eyes, I lifted a finger, telling him to come here. Not exactly a come-hither motion, but it was close enough the tool fell for it.
He parted ways with his Ash lookalike, squeezing through the crowd as he came to my side. His blonde hair was slicked back with sweat, his skin a little red. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, and it took everything in me not to knee him in the groin right now—which, I noticed, he was sporting a hard-on, all from dancing with his new and improved Ash.
“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” Sawyer said, giving me that same lopsided smile. The one that affected me even though I wished it didn’t.
Before the pink-haired girl could turn her head and see us, I grabbed his hand. “We need to talk,” I said, dragging him through the house. He didn’t fight me; he let me lead him wherever my heart desired. I took him to the back door, bringing us both outside, on the patio, where I had my one-on-one time with Travis.
A part of me half expected Travis to be lounging outside, smoking a cigarette, but he wasn’t. It was just me and Sawyer, and his hard dick. I had no idea how long it would take for his girlfriend to show up, or if they were even dating—maybe they were just fucking—so I had to use my time here wisely.
“What are you doing here, Ash?” Sawyer asked, plopping himself down in a chair, spreading his legs wide, unashamed at the imprint of his hard dick between his legs. “You kind of interrupted something.”
I set my cup down on the table, moving to stand beside him. “I should ask you what you’re doing, Sawyer.” I stunned him by leaning down, giving him a good view of my chest. I watched his eyes fall to my breasts, resisting my urge to roll my eyes at him. “Did I see another girl with pink hair?”
He gave me another smirk. “Yeah, and unlike you, she lets me fuck her.” The words were meant to sting, and they did, a bit, but I was prepared for them. “She gets on her knees for me.” As if giving head and fucking were the only things needed in life.
Still leaning over him, I ran a hand down his chest, sluggish and slow, biting my lower lip. It was a gesture he noticed, and suddenly his eyes were not on my breasts but on my mouth. “Sawyer,” I whispered his name, “if I got on my knees for you, I don’t think you’d know what to do with me.”
“Why don’t we test it out?” he suggested, taking my hand and moving it to rest between his legs and touch his erection through his pants. “Get on your knees for me, Ash.”
I gave him a full-blown smile, taking my hand back as I lifted a leg, straddling him on the chair. My skirt rode up, and his hands found their way to my thighs. Beneath me, I could feel his hard-on, and I ground against it once, causing him to moan softly. “Now why would I do that when you already have a me?”
I had no idea how drunk he was, or if he was just buzzed, but I prayed he’d remember this in the morning.
“Does she taste how you think I taste?” I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear, “Does she move how I move and feel how I feel?” The tips of his fingers moved beneath my skirt, toying with my panties. I had one arm wrapped around his head, the other, my splinted hand, set aside.
He hadn’t even asked me about it. The dick.
I increased the pressure as I ground down on him, hearing him moan right into my ear. “Tell me what you want,” I begged him, the urgency plain in my voice. Feeling his hard dick under me, the way his hands gripped me firmly, even in his inebriated state, it would’ve been easy to forget my plan, to forget all about the other girl with pink hair.
But I couldn’t. I was me, after all.
“I want you,” Sawyer murmured, one of his hands leaving my thigh as he grabbed my face and brought our mouths together. He kissed me with heated passion, warmth flooding the area between my legs as I continued to grind against him. His other hand found its way up my shirt, beneath my bra, tweaking my nipple.
Oh, things escalated fast with a guy like him.
I broke the kiss to say, “You can’t have me.”
