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Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part One

Page 54

   


I clenched my thighs around his waist to hold him closer, holding him against the spot I wanted him most, my core tightening suddenly and unexpectedly. I yelped into his mouth, but he didn’t stop for a second, didn’t pause, didn’t ease up on me.
I didn’t know if he was trying to fuck me or trying to kill me but, either way, I knew after that night a part of me would be broken.
Preppy was very much like heroin. Being with him sent me into a state of euphoria, free from the trap of my own thoughts, my past, free from anything and everything on the outside of that little room. Outside of us and our tangle of limbs.
He was an addiction. I craved him, and I wanted more.
But just like heroin, the high was all a fucking lie. I believed he was good for me when in fact, he was worse than any drug.
The door opened and Bear stepped in, setting down a half empty bottle of whiskey on the nightstand. He reached for his belt buckle. “Prep, you watching?” he asked, with a big smile that reached his sparkling blue eyes which were half lidded with both liquor and lust. I was still straddling Preppy as his eyes roamed over my body. “Or you want me to show you how it’s done?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
PREPPY

My cock was rock fucking hard. So hard that I was in physical pain. A beautiful kind of torture I never wanted to end. Bear’s words snapped me out of my Dre induced fog. What the fuck was I doing? I brought her in here to tell her everything and walk away from her so she could live a normal life. This was supposed to be done. Over. So why was there this annoying narration in the back of my mind telling me it was only just the beginning?
Dre was looking from Bear to me, still straddling my lap, her perfect tits heaving up and down, pressing her fingers against her swollen bottom lip, and I knew she was waiting for me to tell him to get the fuck out but that would just prolong the inevitable. This needed to be over and it needed to be over now.
“You first,” I said to Bear. Dre’s head snapped to me but I looked away, not wanting to see the look of surprise and disappointment on her face, or maybe because I didn’t want her to see my heart fucking breaking, which I was sure was written all over my fucking face.
I lifted her off my lap and my poor hard cock practically weeped over the loss of feeling her warm cotton covered pussy through my pants. As I got up and leaned against the wall, I ignored my rapidly beating heart and tight chest, chalking it up to all the dry humping we’d just done.
I chanced a glance over at Dre, who was leaning forward with her hands against the mattress. The look of disappointment and surprise I expected was definitely there, along with something else. Dre was looking at me with her head tilted to the side, squinting like I was very small or very far away.
That look could’ve meant she was thinking about knitting or aerospace engineering, for all I fucking knew. All I knew for sure was that she’d be running out that door in the next few seconds, pissed to all hell and cursing me to the devil, and that would be the end of that.
The end of us.
She’d hate me, but that’s something I would just have to fucking deal with. It’s not like she’d be the first chick I’d pissed the fuck off. I’d rather her hate me for this than the truth.
My stomach flipped.
I leaned against the wall, suddenly ornery as fuck, crossing my arms over my chest. Bear slid his thick leather belt from the loops, dropping it to the floor with a clank. He approached the bed, shoving out of his boots as he pushed his jeans down by the waistband, stepping out of them when they reached the floor, shaking them off his foot, kicking them over to the side.
Why was she still there? Why the fuck wasn’t she already turning tail and running for dear life?
I stared down at the floor and waited for Dre to run by, cursing up a storm inside my mind. But still, she remained. When I heard the mattress dip and the springs squeak, my eyes shot to the bed where Bear had positioned himself on his knees behind my girl, running his fingertips down her shoulders and arms. He moved her hair to the side and pressed his lips to her skin and STILL she didn’t run.
When our gazes met, I knew that there was no misreading what she was saying with her gleaming black eyes. The bitch was calling my bluff. Her lips quirked up on the side, challenging me as she leaned back into Bear’s touch, her eyes never leaving mine.
What in the holy-ever-loving-fuck.
This bitch wants a challenge, fine, she’s got it.
For the most part I was awesome at life, but what Dre didn’t know was that I was even better at games, and she just called me out to play a game of sexual chicken I had no intentions of losing.
She reached up and wrapped her arms around Bear’s neck, encouraging him to explore more of her skin with his mouth. He dipped lower, running his lips across her collarbone.
I made my move, one I was hoping would win me the game right out of the gate. I tipped my chin to her and winked, hoping to piss her off and send her running once and for all, but no. Instead, she returned my wink with a smile. She sucked in her bottom lip and let out an exaggerated moan when Bear’s hand grazed the bottom of her tit through her shirt. She took one arm down from around his neck and when Bear wasn’t paying attention, because he was too busy running his hands all over my girl, she lifted her hand against her stomach where he couldn’t see and she flashed me a finger.
Her middle finger.
Fuck.
Game fucking on.
* * *
DRE
Flipping him off may have gone a step too far, but I was already a step too far and it was only because Preppy was who pushed me there.
My heart lurched in my chest.
If this was how he chose to push me away then he was going to have to suffer the consequences of his decision. He’d made his bed, he could lie in it. Or better yet, watch ME lie in it.
With Bear.
I’d have to be blind not to notice that Bear was beyond attractive. Those bright-blue eyes and all that mess of blond hair, tattoos, and muscles, would make any girl twitchy for a touch. Bear did it for me, but that was just basic biology. It was NOTHING compared to the way that just one look from Preppy made my toes curl and left my body aching and tingling for his touch. That’s when I realized that Preppy wasn’t like heroin at all, he was like speed. Making my heart race, my muscles feel restless, and causing my brain to come alive with a million and one different thoughts about him, all at the same time, most of those about him touching me. Tasting me. Wanting me.