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“The tree house,” I mumbled. “That’s how I sneak in and out of the house.” I knew without a doubt I’d fall out of the tree leading to my window if I tried. Fear filled my heart when I thought how my mom would react when I rolled up drunk at sixteen.
Not that I couldn’t take that, but I knew she’d go into sleuth mode and be relentless within the community until she found out where I’d gotten the booze. I had figured she’d even have involved the police.
“Fuck. Now what?” he asked, releasing me from his arm. He scratched his head and rubbed the back of his neck when he tried to think of a solution.
“Your barn. I’ll sleep there … just until I sober up enough to climb up, then I’ll go home.”
“You can’t stay there on your own, Tricia,” he said, staring at me like I’d suddenly grown tentacles. I began giggling. It was stupid and uncontrollable, and I had no idea what I was laughing at.
Donnie chuckled, staring at me, but as I got louder, he rushed toward me and covered my mouth with his hand. His worried eyes widened before his head snapped toward my house. I knew what he was doing, he was checking to see if my loud laughter had woken anyone up.
“Don’t worry, they can’t hear us from here.” My words and laughter were muffled by his hand. When he hadn’t removed it, I nipped his finger.
“Ow, what the fuck, Tricia?” he yelped, holding his finger up as he tried to inspect it through his drunken haze in the dark.
“God, did I bite you?” I asked, taking his hand in mine and stroking it tenderly.
Before I knew what was happening, we were hugging and kissing, and I can’t lie, I gave as good as I got in that kiss. In my drunken state it had felt much better than any kiss I’d ever had with Brad. Donnie had obviously polished his technique because the kiss was much better than the lip smacks he’d given me when we dated a couple of years before.
“I’ve got to break up with Brad,” I mumbled drunkenly, without much shame because a pang of guilt brought me to my senses. “We can’t do this,” I snapped, stepping back.
“I think we already did,” he replied, his voice raspy, a little slurred and thick with lust. When I didn’t reply he scoffed. “All right, sorry, but I just want to point out that was as much you as me,” he reminded me.
When I stared at him in the dark, my eyes welled with tears, but I swallowed audibly as I tried not to cry. When he saw me close to tears, he placed a palm on my cheek.
“Look, it’s okay, Tricia. Come on, let’s get you to the barn and get your head down. We’ll probably have forgotten we kissed by tomorrow.” Donnie and I trudged back down the lane, his hands shoved deep in the pockets, head down, and his shoulders swaying from side to side. It looked like the walk of a drunk man.
Following quietly behind him, my chest felt tight and my mind was muddled. I suddenly felt sorry for him, because he was right, he may have started the kiss, but I had wondered if it was me who had kept it going. My brain was so foggy, and I couldn’t think straight.
All I knew was since I’d spent time with him during those previous few weeks, I’d learned Donovan Clark was a really nice boy, who was flirty and sweet, and that night he’d confessed to really liking me.
What did I know? I was sixteen, inexperienced in life and relationships, and three sheets to the wind drunk for the first time in my life. The only thing I was sure of was I saw Donnie Clark in an exciting new light, and negotiating that thought with teenage hormones and my first taste of alcohol proved to make the situation between us highly inflammatory.
Chapter Twelve
Tricia aged sixteen
Waking in the dark with a warm palm sliding up my thigh made me stir with a pleasurable sensation. Generous tender kisses pressed into my neck as I writhed in unabashed desire.
Still drunk, I rolled over in the direction of the smooth full lips and they landed on my jaw, traced a path around it, and eventually stopped at the side of my mouth.
“Tricia,” Donnie rasped, his hand sliding farther up my leg until his fingers teased the elastic on the edge of my panties. “I’ve been lying here, trying to do the right thing, when the only thing that feels right is to touch you like this,” he whispered seductively, in a shaky lust-filled tone that told me he was fighting to control himself.
Goosebumps sprinkled like a fine mist shower, scattering from where his fingertips teased between my legs and radiated outward to every extremity from my scalp to my toes, as waves of desire pulsed within me every time his hand moved. The thrill from how he touched me sparked desire from inside I just couldn’t ignore.
“We shouldn’t …” I started breathily, but my head rolled to the side, making access for him to trail more kisses down my neck to my collarbone. “Oh, mm,” I hummed as he rolled me under him, leaned up on one hand, and pulled his T-shirt over his head.
“You’re beautiful, Tricia,” he told me so quietly in a serious tone, and in that moment, I had believed him. His mouth traced the same line he had taken down to the neckline of my dress before he rose up and kissed me, his tongue swirling around mine in a slow sensual tease. Wetness pooled in my panties and I moaned long and loud as I took the weight of his body on mine, enjoying how hard he was as he ground his cock desperately against my pubic bone.
“Let me,” he mumbled, as our kisses became wet and sloppy, our breathing uneven and heavy. My head said no but my body reacted to the contrary, when I spread my legs as wide as I could until my dress material prevented me from going any farther.
Instantly, Donnie reached down and grabbed my hem. I instinctively lifted my butt and he yanked it up to my waist. When he smoothed his hand across the bare skin below my belly button, I bucked frantically when a sharp jolt of electricity shot through me. Moving lower, his fingers skimmed over my panties and he watched me carefully, as if he was testing me. When I didn’t object, he breeched the elastic and slid his long fingers inside.
Finding my clit, he immediately strummed it, “Oh, God that feels good,” I muttered with no inhibitions, spreading my legs even wider, but I whined when he removed his hand again. He growled as he slid two back inside again, and when they slid through my wet seam I whimpered. “Oh, hm,” I moaned when he poked a finger inside and instead of calling a halt to what he was doing I ground against it, eager for more. Bradley and I had fooled around before but the chemistry buzzing between Donnie and I had felt infinitely more.
When he pulled abruptly away I whimpered again, the loss spiking my frustration and a growl tore from my throat. “What?” I asked, my hand palming my forehead, confused as to why he’d stopped making me feel so good.
“I’m taking my pants off,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and a guttural rasp in his tone. After a few grunts and groans he was back kissing me, his cock wet at the tip, leaving a trail over my thigh. “Hang on,” he mumbled, fussing around at my ear with his hands until I heard a small tear. “Condom,” he muttered, lifting off me again, as a fresh pool of wetness seeped from my entrance.
