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The Day She Cried Page 11
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Page 11
“I need you,” she begs.
Harvey Benjamin snorts from his chair, sending Courtney into a fit of giggles. Her blue eyes shine with joy, and goddamn if it isn’t the most beautiful she’s ever looked. I don’t want to ruin her smile with my cruel mouth, but I do it anyway. It’s what I do. I take and take from Courtney Moss. She’s mine. I pounce on her and crush my lips to hers. Her laughter gives way to a needy moan. She must find a way to wiggle herself out of her panties that I’d left halfway on because soon her legs are wrapped around my waist.
“Rome, please.”
I groan because I don’t want to stop kissing her, but I need these clothes off. Her hooded eyes stay locked on mine as I strip. Once I’m naked, I fall back on top of her.
“Shirt. Off,” I demand as I nip at her bottom lip and slide my cock along her soaked cunt.
“Turn off the light.”
I start to rip at her stupid sexy tank when she swats at me. Her hand slapping my shoulder makes my dick throb against her. Fear flickers in her gaze and I don’t understand it. When I reach to take off her shirt again, she tries to push me away.
“Turn off the light!”
I scowl at her. What the fuck is her problem? “No.”
“Yes!”
She thrashes and attempts to escape me, but I’m stronger and faster. I pin her down by her wrists. My cock rubs against her, eager to push inside. A mewl escapes her when I bring both wrists above her head and capture them with one hand. But when I go to grab for her shirt, she loses her fucking mind.
“Stop fucking moving!” I roar. “What is your problem?”
“JUST TURN OFF THE LIGHT AND THERE WILL BE NO PROBLEM!”
Her body trembles and tears leak from the corners of her eyes. I push the tip of my cock against her entrance and ease in slowly. The fear that had been dancing in her eyes is no longer there as need takes over. The tension seems to leave her muscles and she digs her heels into my ass to pull me deeper inside her.
“Christ, you’re tight,” I groan.
My palm finds her breast over her shirt and I squeeze, causing her to whimper.
“Why won’t you take off your shirt?”
She bites on her lip. “I will. I just don’t want to with the light on.”
I don’t know why I’m indulging this bullshit, but I slip out of her perfect cunt and stalk over to the switch. Once the room is shrouded in darkness, I prowl over to her. I go to take off her shirt, but she’s already naked and waiting. Our mouths meet, as if they are nocturnal beasts, and our teeth clash together. I push inside her lubricated body once more. Her tits are the perfect fit in my palms. I thumb her nipples as I buck into her.
“Rome,” she breathes, her fingers finding my hair.
I close my eyes and fall against her, gathering her in my embrace as I fuck my need into her. We kiss hard and frantic. Desperate. Until we’re both panting for air and my nuts are seizing up.
“Yes,” she whimpers. “Just like that.”
As I fuck her, my pelvis is grinding against her clit. I hold off on my release just barely as her breathing intensifies the closer she gets to her orgasm. The moment she falls off the edge, crying out in pleasure, I spill my seed. Hot and furious. Angry even.
She hugs me to her and I bury my nose against the side of her throat, inhaling her sweet scent. My mind drifts to a memory.
Courtney Moss.
An angel.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
Her blond hair is the color of white silk. Each time she moves or laughs, it catches the light and blinds me. I’m always so fucking mesmerized by her.
“Can I sit here—”
“Beat it,” I snarl to whoever thought they’d sit in front of me and block my view.
The kid stutters but wisely moves away. Courtney’s bitch friend Whitney hangs on her boyfriend and gives Courtney shit the whole lunch period. Today, we’re having pizza. But not Courtney. She picks at a piece of grilled chicken but keeps stealing gazes at everyone who walks by with pizza.
If she were my girl, I’d make sure she ate the goddamned pizza.
But she’s not my girl. Courtney Moss will never be my girl.
She’s an angel, and according to my father, I’m the devil.
“Let me see!” Whitney screeches, a wicked smile on her pretty plastic face.
Courtney grumbles when her friend steals her purse. “Whit. Stop. Please.” Her voice is soft, but she’s upset. It has me fisting my hands. I wish she’d fucking stand up to that cunt.
“Ew. I told you not to use this brand. It puts like ten pounds on you,” Whitney chides as she holds up a package of birth control pills and shows her boyfriend. He smirks and I want to wipe the stupid look right off his face.
“And I told you,” Courtney hisses, “it’s the only brand that doesn’t make me sick.”
At least her boyfriend has some balls because he snags the packet from Whitney and hands it back to Courtney. She shoves it back into her purse and spends the rest of the lunch hour with her head bowed.
When the bell rings, I rise and stalk over to the doorway. I like when she walks by and I get a whiff of her perfume. Today, she doesn’t linger to wait on her friends. She bolts from the table. Her face is bright red as she tosses her trash. With her head down, she races away from them. It isn’t until she crashes into me that she looks up.
On instinct, my arms wrap around her to keep from letting her fall to the floor.
I won’t let you fall, Courtney.
Her head jerks up and I’m staring into the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Up close, they look like the sky on a hot summer day. Cloudless. Bright blue. Fucking stunning. Except hers aren’t happy. They’re filled with tears. And when she realizes she’s locked in my arms, she stiffens. Her pouty mouth parts open in shock.
I could kiss her.
Right now.
Lean forward and press my lips to hers.
She’d finally see me. I’d make her realize with one kiss that we could be good together. I’d sure as hell treat her better than her asshole friends. When I lean forward so that our noses almost touch, she gasps. Her body is tense, but she isn’t moving away. In fact, her eyes have fallen to my mouth. My heart gallops in my chest.
“You’re so beau—”
“What the fuck, man?” her boyfriend grumbles as he roughly jerks her away from me and into his arms. “You don’t get to touch her that way.”
Whitney and her boyfriend gape at me as if I’ve got a fucking disease and just infected their friend. Courtney’s boyfriend pulls her against his chest as he glares at me.
My eyes dart to hers and I see the confusion in them.
“Fuck off,” I bite out at him before stalking away.
But I can’t even be mad. For one moment, I had the girl of my dreams in my arms and it was fucking everything.
I smile. It feels stupid on my face, but I can’t even help it.
One day, I’ll find a way to get her to talk to me.
She was meant for me. Not him.
I’ll convince her one day.
Courtney
I wake to someone licking my face. Okay, not someone, but something. Once my hand locates the source, I chuckle. Harvey Benjamin has joined us on the bed and is licking me like I’m his favorite new treat.
He’s not the only beast on me.
Rome’s naked body is curled around mine. His breathing is soft and even as he sleeps. I take a moment to enjoy the way his arm is possessively wrapped around my middle and his hand is splayed out over my ribs. Staying with him like this is perfect, but I need to get up and pee.
And clean myself up.
Shame ripples through me.
My head throbs and reality sinks in. I just slept with Rome. Again. We didn’t use protection. After the night I slept with those two men, I’d gone to the doctor to get tested for STDs. Luckily, they must have used condoms because my results came back clean. I’m upset with myself, though, because I got drunk an
d was careless. Just like back then. Bad things happen when you’re careless.
Bile creeps up my throat and I quickly escape Rome’s grip. Once in the bathroom, I stare down at the crusted-over evidence of what we did last night. I feel dirty and disgusting. A whore like he said. I can’t even look at my reflection in the mirror. Quickly, I wet a rag and scrub it away until my thighs and pussy are bright red and raw.
What would Raven say?
She would tell me to grow a backbone and stand up for myself. I should be telling Rome he needs to use condoms. But better yet, I should tell him that if he wants to sleep with me, he needs to treat me nicer. The things he said at the party were awful and hurtful. I’m not his plaything to use and abuse. I’m a person. With real feelings.
A choked sound escapes me.
I need to get out of here.
Out of his room. Away from him.
In the darkness, I fumble around until I pick up what feels like a shirt. It isn’t until I have it on that I realize it’s Rome’s T-shirt and smells just like him. I let out a heavy sigh as I slip out of his room. The house is dark, the party gone. I creep down the hallway and push into Raven’s room. As soon as I step inside and close the door behind me, I feel the panic melting away.
I can breathe again the moment I turn on the light and see all her things.
“I’m such a fuck up,” I mutter into the air, as if she can actually hear me. A sob catches in my throat. “I’m so sorry.”
She doesn’t answer.
Of course she doesn’t answer.
I make my way over to her desk and sit in the chair. A smile teases my lips as I thumb through her books. I find myself enthralled in another one of her poetry journals. I’m just flipping to the next page when a business card falls into my lap.
My blood runs cold.
Jackson McConnell. Civil Defense Attorney.
Why does she have Whitney’s dad’s card?
My stomach clenches in realization. Raven’s dad. She told me he was abusive. Could he have been hurting her too? Was she reaching out for help?
A shiver rattles through me. I hate that I was so blind in our friendship. Surely there was something I could have done. For one, I could have come clean sooner. I can almost guarantee she would’ve forgiven me. Had I been able to tell her in person. To hold her as she cried. To take her abuse as she hit me. We could have made it right. I just know it.
But I didn’t.
Our friendship was based on lies.
And in the end, the lies took her life.
I read a poem that is written on a sticky note and stuck to the first page.
The giant and the raven,
In slumber side by side.
Her other half loathes him.
But she soothes the giant to protect the part of her heart that lives.
Beneath.
Beneath.
The raven has the answers, but you have to dig.
Her other half will save the princess.
A door closes somewhere within the house and I jump. I slap the journal closed before dropping it back into the drawer. The bedroom door swings open, causing me to cry out in surprise.
Rome stands in the doorway.
Strong. Tall. Powerful. Imposing.
And sleepy.
His dark hair is messy and he rubs at his eye as he regards me with tired eyes. He’s thrown on a pair of loose boxers that hang low on his hips revealing his delicious “V” that makes my mouth water.
“What are you doing in here?” His voice is raspy from sleep.
“Me? Uh. Nothing,” I lie, my voice shaking.
He seems to tense up as he takes in the scene. My guilty face. Sitting at Raven’s desk. Papers strewn about. His body straightens and his signature scowl contorts his boyish handsome face into one that is hard and cruel. Rome doesn’t utter a word as he stalks over to me. I’m yanked from the chair and into his arms. He locks them tight around me as his words come out hot against my hair.
“I thought I told you to stay the fuck out of her room.”
I squirm in his arms and look up at him. “You’re not my boss.”
His fingers seize my jaw and he glares at me. “You’re in my fucking house, sheep.”
“You can’t control me.” My words shake as they come from my throat, but I feel brave in Raven’s room. Like she’s here with me, coaching me on what to say.
“Yes,” he snarls. “I can. You’re in my house. You do what I want.”
I squeak when he lifts me by the ass and sets me on the edge of the desk. My thighs are wrenched apart and his boxers are shoved down. Then, he’s inside of me. I moan and claw at his bare chest.
“You have to be nice to me,” I mutter, all resolve melting away when he touches my clit.
“This is nice.” His thumb rubs circles on my sensitive nerves as he slowly slides in and out of me.
Yes, it’s more than nice.
Oh, God.
“Please…”
“Please, what, sheep? Please fuck you until you cry?”
“You’re insane,” I breathe, my eyes fluttering closed.
His mouth finds my neck and he sucks me hard. He works me with his thumb as he drives into me.
Focus, Courtney.
“Rome,” I whimper, my body shaking with need. “You can’t just take it whenever you want.”
He nips at my throat. “Want me to stop?” Slowly, he begins withdrawing. I claw at his shoulders. “I didn’t think so, sheep.”
“We…condoms…”
He chuckles and slams hard into me. “I’m clean. And I’ll take my chances with you.”
Careless stupid man.
“Rome—”
His mouth finds mine and then we’re kissing hard. I get swept up into his vortex. He dizzies and confuses me. Steals me from my body and devours every part of who I am. I can’t think straight when Rome is consuming me whole.
I come with a shriek that sets him off. His hips thunder into me a few more hard thrusts before a blast of hot cum shoots inside of me. My pussy clenches desperately as if it can somehow keep him locked inside me forever.
“Stay out of her room,” he mutters.
I burst into tears.
Instead of pushing me away or yelling at me, he carries me over to the bed and sits. His strong arms wrap around me as I bury my face against his neck. He runs comforting circles on my back with his hand as I cry.
Eventually, I stop crying.
He lies back on Raven’s bed, pulling me to him, and we fall asleep.
It’s been three days.
Three days since Rome dropped me off. Without a word. As if we didn’t have sex. As if he didn’t hold me like I was everything in his world. I’d managed to make it through my diner shifts, but today I called in sick.
I’m tired.
Empty.
Dead inside.
I can’t take the constant push and pull with Rome. He’s messing with my mind. One moment he’s soft and warm and I have hope. The next moment, he’s hard and cold and cruel. His moods are worse than mine.
I can’t eat.
I can’t sleep.
All I can do is think.
My thoughts are my prison.
Over and over, I wonder about that business card. I want to ask Rome, but I can’t. He’s too closed off. Besides, whatever we had together is gone. We slept together twice in one night and then he was easily able to pretend the intimacy never happened. I keep grasping for things I’ll never reach. Things I don’t deserve anyway.
I hear a sound and my body stills.
Mom is with Keith, so I know it isn’t her. My heart beats to life for the first time in days.
My light flips on and I yank the covers over my face.
“I could be a criminal coming to take advantage of you.” His deep voice is irritated. “Why are you in bed? It’s five in the evening.”
“I’m tired. Go away.”
But my stupid heart wants him to stay.
&
nbsp; The covers are yanked away from me and tossed to the floor. I squint up at him. He looks good today wearing a sleeveless T-shirt that showcases his sculpted biceps and a pair of basketball shorts. A ball cap sits backward on his head and he seems younger than his nineteen years.
“I was on my way to the gym and something told me to come see what Little Bo Peep was doing.” He scrubs at his face with his palm before throwing his hands in the air. “Fucking hiding. Per usual. Get the fuck up, sheep.”
I glare at him. “I’m not hiding. I’m tired.”
“You’re depressed. I know what depression looks like, dammit,” he barks out, a flash of pain sparking in his eyes. “Now get out of this bed and take a fucking shower.”
Fire blazes in my chest and it hurts. Rolling to my side, I ignore him. That is, until I’m lifted into his arms. I scream and thrash as he carries me to the bathroom. I’m dumped into the tub and then icy cold water showers down on me.
“You asshole!” I scream as I scramble to my feet. The chilly water soaks my T-shirt and panties. My entire body trembles from the cold. He starts to grab at my shirt, but I kick him. Determination gleams in his eyes as he grabs the fabric at the bottom and rips it apart like a damn Neanderthal. The shirt is torn from me and tossed to the shower floor with a loud thwap. I curl my arms around my stomach to hide from him, my breasts jiggling as I retreat away from him.
“Let. Me. See.” His voice comes out like a snarl.
Defeated, I sob and allow him to yank my arms away. When I peek at him to see his reaction, I expect fury. But for a moment, he simply stares with his mouth slightly parted. A look of heartbreak on his handsome face.
“Courtney…” My name comes from his lips like a prayer. Sad and confused. It makes my chest seize that he called me by name and not that stupid nickname he’s given me. “What is this?”
His fingertips run along the ridges and I feel slimy. Disgusting. Gross. I push his hand away and snap at him. “A coping mechanism. Now will you please let me shower alone?”
He rises to his feet, gives me a clipped nod, and slams the bathroom door shut behind him. A hysterical sob wracks through me as I turn the knob to hot and crumple to the bottom of the tub.