Page 167 of Rock Bottom Girl

“You’ve done a lot of good for a lot of people, Marley. Feel good about it.”

“I can’t believe you asked me to Homecoming again and we’re finally here,” I sighed.

“Again?” he asked.

Our conversation was cut short by the festive entrance of the Homecoming Queen. Ruby gave me a regal wink as she settled onto her throne in her purple, sparkly dress. We laughed as my team requested “We Are the Champions” and then sang and danced to it in front of everyone.

Duty called. Jake and I divided and conquered, rustling horny teenagers out of dark corners and quelling minor heartbreaks on the dance floor.

But I felt him watching me. Even when we were apart. Jake was watching me. Jake was withme.

Maybe this crash landing in Culpepper was going to be the best thing that ever happened to me. And just maybe I would finally find my path forward from here.

71

Marley

“Aren’t we supposed to be chaperoning this thing?” I asked as Jake dragged me down the hallway away from the cafeteria. Away from the thumping bass of Macklemore and squealing teenagers. The hallway was dark and quiet.

“I paid Bill fifty dollars to cover for us for fifteen minutes,” he said, not the least bit embarrassed.

“He’s going to think we’re—”

“We are,” he said devilishly, coming to a stop in front of the girls’ locker room. “Now, unlock this door right now, Mars, or I swear to God I’m going to find out if you’re wearing a bra right here in the hallway where anyone can come along.”

With shaking hands, I yanked my keys out of my clutch and pushed them at him.

Smugly, he unlocked the door and pushed me inside. The deadbolt clicked into place behind us, and I suddenly felt like a tiny field mouse in the presence of a very hungry hawk.

And then Jake’s hands were on me. They locked on to my breasts like heat-seeking missiles, pushing the straps down my shoulders.

“I fucking knew it,” he said with reverence. “You’re a bad girl, Mars. Coming to a high school dance with no bra.”

“I didn’t think anyone would be doing a thorough exam,” I shot back, gripping his hard-on through his pants. I could feel the pulse thumping in his flesh, and it added to my excitement.

He maneuvered me into my office and propped me against my desk. Jake leaned in and down, holding eye contact while his tongue darted out to stroke over one nipple.

He did it again, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Goosebumps broke out on my skin and made my nipples pebble.

“God, baby. You are a fantasy come to life.”

He shifted to my other breast and repeated the process. Within seconds, my nipples were damp and painfully erect.

“Fifteen minutes,” I reminded him, not willing to let him spend all of those minutes on just my breasts.

“I’ll be back later, ladies,” he promised my boobs.

They missed his attention, but when he dropped to his knees in front of me, other parts started to get excited.

He pushed the skirt of my dress up to my waist. “Hold it here,” he said, hooking a finger under the black thong I wore. His knuckle rubbed against my folds, and I shivered at his touch. “Hold that dress up, baby,” he reminded me when I let the skirt fall.

I collected the hem and held it high while he pulled my thong down to my knees. He looked up at me, a devilish, dirty smile on his face.

“I want a picture of you like this,” he said. “Tits out, skirt up. You’re a fucking sight to see, Mars.”

“Maybe some other time when we have more than eleven minutes.”

I could feel his breath on my thighs and clamped them together trying to do something, anything to relieve the pressure that was building between them.