I suck on my teeth. I know it was just as good for her as it was for me. No way is she unaffected after seeing me today. Hmm… I can work with that. Show her the mistake she made. What she passed up on. And then remind her why she’ll never fucking have me.
Outside, Sarah is sitting on the hood of her Jetta. I head straight toward her, a shit-eating grin stamped on my face as a plan begins to form in my mind. The previous appeal of getting my dick wet isn’t the same, my mind now full of other more intriguing possibilities. But I’m also not going to let this chick get in my head. I’ll fuck my way through the entire school if I have to before I let that happen.
“Ready to blow this place?” I ask Sarah once I’m close. I’m committed to the course of action and I’m always one to follow through. Sure, seeing her with Allie may have thrown me for a loop. I won’t deny I’ve thought about her a time or two this past year and a half. You would too if you’d had awesome sex with a hot chick only to never see her again. But here she is in the flesh. Hmmm…maybe if shit doesn’t blow over with Sarah, I can work out a different arrangement. I mean, she’d been down for a casual fuck before.
No. That’s what she wants. Wanted. I’m not giving it to her again. Letting her fucking use me. Nah. Her disappearing act deserves a little punishment. She needs to see what it’s like to be left behind. Tossed aside like you don’t fucking matter.
A plan starts forming in my mind.
If she and Allie are friends, Allie will have my balls for breaking the girl’s heart. I consider this. Fuck it. It’ll be worth it. She never should have ghosted me. I told her I’d ruin her for anyone else, and if I didn’t accomplish that the first time around, I’ll make it my mission here and now.
“I’m ready for you to do some groveling,” Sarah retorts, arms folded across her chest, shoving her breasts up higher in her already too-tight green top. “I can’t believe you made out with some random this morning.”
My grin widens. “Baby, I don’t grovel.” I lift the hem of my shirt, exposing my cut abs that look amazing thank you very fucking much. “Women beg to be with this, not the other way around. Besides,” I drop the hem of my shirt. “I didn’t kiss Gwen. She kissed me. What was I supposed to do?”
She pouts. She thinks it’s cute. It’s not. But I let it slide, knowing she’ll come around. Sarah knows the deal between us. She doesn’t get to own me. I’m not hers, and this thing between us isn’t exclusive. I don’t do relationships. Never have. And I have no desire to in the near future. Maybe when I’m thirty. But hell, who knows, I might decide to be a badass bachelor forever.
“Urgh, do not say her name in my presence,” she snaps.
Irritation flashes through me but I shove it aside and lower my voice to a growl. “You know you want to beg for me, baby girl.”
Her eyes darken and I can see desire burning in her honey-colored gaze. She licks her lips but manages to hold herself in place. Funny. She thinks she’s going to make me work for it.
Sarah wants something I refuse to give her. Commitment. And while I’m here, smoothing shit over with her, it’s not because I actually give two fucks about losing her. This little arrangement between us is one of convenience. Shit gets too real at home sometimes and she’s a hot little body to pass the time in. Nothing more. Nothing less. Well, maybe a little less, but I try not to be a complete asshole about it, which is why I’m here. I should get brownie points or something for that shit.
It’s easier for me to cut fourth and give her a rare moment of my undivided attention than to find another piece to bury myself in. A new chick might get clingy. I don’t have time for that. I’ve got a scholarship and football on my horizon. I’m not looking to chain myself to anyone. Then again…my mind flashes to the brief blast from my past before I focus back on the chick in front of me. Stop fucking thinking about her.
“What if I don’t want to?” Sarah’s lip juts out further and I lean toward her, nipping at it. She moans and arches toward me.
“Then I guess this—like all good things—will come to an end.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her breasts against my chest. “I don’t want it to end.” Her voice is low and breathy. “But I hate that I have to share you.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes and decide to respond to the first part of her statement, ignoring the second. This is to fucking easy.
“Then you know what to do?”
The corners of her mouth curl into a seductive smile. “My place?”
I nod and accept her keys when she hands them to me. Like I said, too fucking easy.
FORTY-SIX
Bibiana
“Urgh. What is going on with him?” Allie says, but I’m barely paying attention to her because oh my god, that was him.
“Emilio.” I whisper his name to myself, liking the way it sounds. Emilio Chavez is what she said his name was. Oh my God. Luis’s dad is here. He’s really here and he has a name. Well, obviously. He has a name. Everyone has a name.
A million thoughts are running through my mind. I can’t seem to focus on any single one of them.
What do I do? Should I go after him? No. That would make me look like a crazy person. He recognized me though, right? At least, it looked like he did. Not that he stuck around. I’m not sure what I expected. It’s been eighteen months and it was just a casual hook up. I mean, yes, it was memorable for me. I lost my virginity that night. That’s kind a big deal. And even if I hadn’t gotten pregnant, I wouldn’t be able to forget being with him. We had sex three times. I didn’t even know a guy could do that. I thought it was a one and done sort of thing, but Emilio certainly proved me wrong. And I didn’t realize a girl could orgasm as many times as I did. I expected pain. Discomfort. Embarrassment. What I did not expect was…that. It sounds so dumb, but it was a dream. Magical.
As stupid as it sounds, slipping out early that morning to get home before Mom and Miguel woke up was physically painful.
He’d been asleep when I left, and I didn’t bother to wake him. At the time, I told myself it was because I wanted to avoid an awkward goodbye. But if I’m honest with myself, I think I didn’t wake him because I knew it would hurt even more to leave. He made me feel things I didn’t realize I could feel, and that scared me.
But judging by his expression when he saw me, I’m just one in a long line of hookups for him. My shoulders slump and my stomach drops. Why does that realization hurt so much? I don’t even know him. I knew what the deal was. And hell, I’ve been dealing with the consequences of that night ever since. Seeing him in the flesh shouldn’t suddenly bring about these feelings of loneliness.
