Page 78
Story: Insurgent
“I didn’t know you smoked,” I hear. I look, seeing Danny with his hands in his pockets.
I hit the thing one more time. “I don’t.”
He grins. “Nice party, huh?”
I shrug. “I guess.”
“You okay?” he asks with a tilt of his head.
I don’t respond. His eyes go down to my legs. I’m in a sundress, with small heeled sandals.
“You look pretty.”
“Thanks,” I say, hitting the smoke again. He walks closer to me. I watch, my throat growing dry.
Does he know how much I want him?
Does he know what being around him even after all this time does to me?
I’m still dying.
I still dream about him.
I hate myself.
I hate him.
And then he steps even closer. I can smell his cologne. Feel my heart pound against my neck. Feel his finger as it runs up my thigh.
“Would you stop me if I touched you where he gets to now?” He leans in close to my ear. “Are you happy?” he asks me. I close my eyes, letting out the shakiest breath. I feel him against my stomach. He wants me as much as I want him.
He makes circles on my skin. “All you have to do is say the word, Bexley. Say you want me.”
The wetness in my panties is for him. The beat of my heart is for him. “Will I ever stop?” I say on a whisper. It pains me.
“I hope not,” he says.
“Bexley,” I hear. It’s Ellen. She’s probably ready for the cake.
“I need to go.”
He steps away from me. I look at him a moment too long. He reaches for the cigarette. I hand it to him, and without another word, I walk away.
Samuel shutting the front door snaps me from thoughts about earlier.
“Hey,” he says. “You okay?”
I’d left the party right after the cake cutting, telling him I didn’t feel great. He looks down at the drink in my hand before looking back at my face.
“I lied,” I say with a guilty smirk. “Kids were giving me a headache.”
He gets a crease in his brow, but says, “I get it.”
Understanding Samuel.
Still in a sundress, but barefoot, I walk over to the liquor cabinet. “Have a drink with me.”
“It’s three in the afternoon.”
I hit the thing one more time. “I don’t.”
He grins. “Nice party, huh?”
I shrug. “I guess.”
“You okay?” he asks with a tilt of his head.
I don’t respond. His eyes go down to my legs. I’m in a sundress, with small heeled sandals.
“You look pretty.”
“Thanks,” I say, hitting the smoke again. He walks closer to me. I watch, my throat growing dry.
Does he know how much I want him?
Does he know what being around him even after all this time does to me?
I’m still dying.
I still dream about him.
I hate myself.
I hate him.
And then he steps even closer. I can smell his cologne. Feel my heart pound against my neck. Feel his finger as it runs up my thigh.
“Would you stop me if I touched you where he gets to now?” He leans in close to my ear. “Are you happy?” he asks me. I close my eyes, letting out the shakiest breath. I feel him against my stomach. He wants me as much as I want him.
He makes circles on my skin. “All you have to do is say the word, Bexley. Say you want me.”
The wetness in my panties is for him. The beat of my heart is for him. “Will I ever stop?” I say on a whisper. It pains me.
“I hope not,” he says.
“Bexley,” I hear. It’s Ellen. She’s probably ready for the cake.
“I need to go.”
He steps away from me. I look at him a moment too long. He reaches for the cigarette. I hand it to him, and without another word, I walk away.
Samuel shutting the front door snaps me from thoughts about earlier.
“Hey,” he says. “You okay?”
I’d left the party right after the cake cutting, telling him I didn’t feel great. He looks down at the drink in my hand before looking back at my face.
“I lied,” I say with a guilty smirk. “Kids were giving me a headache.”
He gets a crease in his brow, but says, “I get it.”
Understanding Samuel.
Still in a sundress, but barefoot, I walk over to the liquor cabinet. “Have a drink with me.”
“It’s three in the afternoon.”
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