I want my brother.
My twin.
My soulmate.
Warmth sparks in my core and my walls flutter as I picture my big brother pinning me down and holding me by the throat as he demands my virginity. I imagine it’s prom—I was crowned queen and he was crowned king. We’re the perfect couple. And now he wants to make it official. I imagine myself crying out as he enters me, tearing me with his thick cock. I bet he’d hurt me, but in the best possible way.
“Scream for me, Prom Queen,” my twin brother tells me as he thrusts inside me roughly.
Paul moans between my thighs, pulling me from my fantasy.Fucker. His hand cups my tits over the spandex, and the other snakes beneath it until he finds my nipple.
“Yes,” I breathe when he pinches it between his fingers, rolling it as I grind on him. Before I know it, my orgasm hits me. I cry out as ecstasy rolls through me. Wave after wave of pleasure seizing my body.
And the entire time, all I can think of is my brother.
“That was awesome.” Paul smirks as he rises to his feet from beneath me. “My turn.”
“Not a fucking chance,” a voice booms from the doorway.
My eyes fly open, clashing with a fiery emerald gaze. Sam is standing in the doorway watching. My big brother looks downright murderous.
NICOLE
You Spin Me Right Round by Dead or Alive
This party is kinda lame. Like really fucking lame. Gross assholes drunk and lazily grinding on each other while sipping warm beer—joy.
I don’t belong here. I don’t belong in this shitty small town with these shitty small town people. I’m meant for bigger, better, brighter things. My parents think I’m headed to college after graduation in a few months. Jokes on them though. I sold all the stupid shit they gifted me for my eighteenth birthday, and saved every penny I’ve made babysitting for years. As soon as I graduate, I’m out of here. I’m headed straight to New York. Big city, big dreams, big opportunities. No more small town shit for me.
I will miss Paul though. He’s dumb as a box of fucking rocks,but damn can that boy fuck. Truly, it’s a crime how pretty his cock is—thick and veiny and perfectly proportioned to his large frame. He’s got the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing down pat. He’s dumb but he’s handsome, and I look damn good on his arm. It’s a shame he has no chance at being named Prom King. The assholes of this small town high school will never let someone with his skin tone win, even though he is by far the most attractive boy in the school. Of course, no one will come right out and say that’s what’s going on, but everyone knows how it is in these suburban shitholes—pretty and poised on the outside but underneath things areugly. It’s part of the reason I’m so desperate to get out of here.
Some sad sophomore hurls next to me. Her skin tight red dress splatters with vomit. The gaggle of boys following her laugh. True fucking gentlemen.
“Girl, you need to go get some water and go home,” I grumble at her as I pass by.
“Wanna take her spot in our game of Quarters?” a very, very brave sophomore boy with curly hair and freckles smattering across his nose asks.
The air is hot, sticky, oppressive. The stench of vomit, stale beer, and body odor is making me nauseous. My patience is waning. I want to grab Paul and get the fuck out of here.
“Not in your wildest dreams, ass clown,” I snark as I grab one of the red solo cups from their hand and down the alcohol without a care of what it is. The alcohol burns as it makes its way down my esophagus.I cringe, but then the warmth begins to spread, and I feel better.
I move through the crowd of writhing bodies. The lights are off, only black lights and annoying strobes illuminate the space which has been opened up with all the furniture shoved off to the sides. This is Stacey’s party—her show, her display of bitchy teenage girl dominance. And yet, she’s nowhere to be found.Typical Stacey. She didn’t even cancel when she found out one of her supposed best friends was murdered. Why would she? If it’s not about how she can perfect her Queen Bee look, then she doesn’t give a shit. It’s probably foolish of us to be drunk and partying with a killer on the loose, but it’s not like there’s a serial killer out there offing prom queens, right?
“Have you seen Paul?” I ask some of the guys from the football team who are huddled around a keg.
They exchange glances. It makes me nervous. Fucking high school and it’s fucking petty games.
“Hello? Paul? Tall, dark skin, my boyfriend?” I insist when no one answers me.
“Maybe check upstairs,” one of them mumbles into his cup. I’m not even sure which one. No one will make eye contact with me.
What the fuck is wrong with these idiots? Maybe Paul threatened to fuck up anyone who looked at me in this tiny little black dress that I stole from my older sister’s closet. That’d be kinda romantic and shit.
“Whatever,” I scoff as I spin on my platform heels and head off towards the main staircase. I pump up my hair in the back, making sure all the teasing and hairspray have held despite the heat inside this house.
Collections of shadowed figures dot the stairs. Couples half hidden in darkness grind together sensually. I move around them, trying not to stare as tongues and fingers roam across exposed flesh. It’s like a damn orgy in here tonight. Half of these idiots won’t remember, or won’t want to remember, these hookups come Monday morning. It’s why I’m only ever with Paul. It won’t last past this school year but, at least for now, he’s safe, stable, secure. It’s comforting.
“Not a fucking chance,” an angry voice growls as I step onto the top landing. Immediately, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
