Page 14
FOURTEEN
HALE
THE PAST
“Please get off me. I want to go home. I’m not kidding, Andrew.” I shove at his chest, even though he continues to paw at my boobs, and his teeth are sinking into my neck so hard I know that I’m either bleeding, or there will be deep bruises in the morning.
“Come on, you just need to warm up to it a little. Everyone is nervous their first time,” he promises, but that’s not the case at all.
I’m not nervous for my first time; I just don’t want it to be with him.
Not with him, not like this. When pushing him away fails, I let my body go limp while I dig my hand between the cushions of the couch, the worn scratchy fabric enveloping each of my fingers while I feel for my phone to text the only person I know will come get me at this hour, when I shouldn’t even be out of the house.
My thumb slides over the keyboard sloppily.
ME:
Please come pick me up.
LOCATION PIN
Though my body is limp and I’ve stopped reacting, Andrew doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care. His hand gropes my crotch over my jean shorts, and he grunts. I just feel sick to my stomach.
I don’t know how much time actually goes by between sending the text and the knock on the door, but when Andrew gets up to open it, I don’t waste a second to grab my things and make a break for the door, prepping whatever excuse I have to use in front of his visitor and thanking whatever god is listening for their timing.
When I look up, I’m met with my favorite sets of eyes.
The door is wide open to Colby and Jackson, standing a solid foot above Andrew’s height, both assessing my condition before looking back to Andrew.
Colby’s eyes flick to my neck, then back to Andrew, and I see the moment everything clicks.
THE PRESENT
I wince, thinking of Colby spending the weekend in jail, Jackson reassuring me that he was a big boy and that he knew the repercussions of his own actions. When my concealer-coated brush dabs the skin above his eyebrow, his hand darts out, locking around my wrist.
“Don’t.” His eyes are open and glued to mine.
“It’s okay, it won’t take but another second, and then you can go,” I reassure him.
“I don’t want it covered,” he says matter of factly.
“Don’t we all have scars we wanna cover up?” I ask, my voice small as I watch the emotions flicker within his eyes.
“Maybe, but I think I’m tired of hiding.
Tired of covering things up. Tired of not being able to feel the way I want to feel.
The way I do feel. Aren’t you?” His response ricochets around my insides like a pinball machine.
First within my ears, then digested by my brain, followed by hitting my metaphorical heart, before lodging itself within my rib cage.
His response suffocates me, so all I do is nod in return.
He threads his fingers into my hair, cupping my face wholly in his hand, sealing his lips over mine in a kiss that feels like home. It’s not soft like the one I shared with Sydnee. It’s rough and demanding, like he needs every bit of my body to keep him upright.
“Colby, you have to get on stage man. Now— Oh, Jesus Christ,” the stage manager calls out again as the opening tune begins to play outside.
“Bring me my mic and get the fuck out,” he says, breaking our kiss and leaving me breathless.
“What are you doing? You have to go.” I push him away, but he doesn't budge.
“How would you feel about being Neon Cherry’s feature tonight, brat?” His smile is devious, but I would do anything to have those teeth sinking into any part of my skin.
“I don’t understand...”
His stage manager tosses a cordless mic to Colby, who catches it with ease, checking to ensure it isn’t switched on yet.
When I look back in the direction of the stage, I realize how close Jackson and Sydnee are.
I have the perfect view of them from here, and them equally of us as they stand there, confused by what’s going on.
I’m too busy looking at Jax and Syd myself that I don’t notice Colby motioning to them at first, and when I do, I’m too late to decipher what he’s saying.
“We don’t have a lot of time, so this is going to be fast. I promise to make it up to you later, though.
Don’t hold back,” Colby says as he lifts me off of the vanity, pulling my dress out from underneath me and up my body, over my breasts.
Both hands pull my panties down my legs and over my boots and, suddenly, I’m exposed to him right here in the venue.
He sinks to his knees in front of me, wrapping one arm around my thigh while holding my dress above my boobs with the same hand that holds the mic just under my chin.
“Sing pretty for them, brat,” he commands as he slides his tongue between folds, simultaneously switching the microphone on. The first swipe of his tongue against my aching core is pure heaven, my moan paired with Sydnee’s voice over the speakers.
“Oh, fuck,” I cry out, looking over and watching my beautiful girl singing an erotic tune, while my other man hits each perfect note on his guitar.
Colby doesn’t stop his assault on my pussy.
He told me it would be fast, and he meant it.
He goes straight for the spot that makes me come without a shadow of a doubt.
After being denied my orgasm by Syd this morning, I’m even more sensitive now.
I can already feel my release building. With the crowd listening to my moans mixed with Sydnee’s voice, it’s an ultimate act of exhibitionism, except the only people who can see me are the ones I want to see me.
“C-Colby, I’m gonna— I’m gonna come,” I moan, my voice echoing once more into the speakers around us, and this time, Colby clicks the mic off.
He sucks my clit a little harder, bending his fingers to tweak the spot I like, and before I know it, I’m exploding.
I come so fucking hard, I’m convinced the crowd can still hear me, even over the live music.
He aids me through a few shock waves before standing and giving me a wicked smile.
“You did amazing,” he coos, grabbing the back of my neck and planting a wet kiss on my forehead.
He gives me no time to respond. My arrogant asshole walks out onto the stage, wiping his mouth before adjusting the crotch of his pants. The crowd screams his name, all the while having no idea that the moans they just heard were from his stepsister coming on his face.
I watch as he begins to sing effortlessly, pants tented entirely. Despite still being in shock, and somehow still turned on, I figure I should probably get dressed on the off chance someone else makes their way in here.
There’s just one problem.
My stepbrother is currently walking around the stage, singing his heart out, with my panties in his back fucking pocket.