Eleven
After finishing off de-Mason-ing my bedroom, I arrived downstairs to some awkward questions as you can imagine.
Jenna, Nixon, and Mattie were in the kitchen, tidying up the aftermath of last night. Trepidation twisted in my stomach.
“So, what happened with you and Mason,” Jenna said when we were in the garden out of earshot of the boys.
“Nothing, why?” I lied. I was holding a black bin sack and filling it with discarded bottles. It looked a bit like there’d been a rave. What the fuck happened when I went upstairs. There was also a shoe in my mother’s flower bed. A shoe?
Jenna stopped wiping down the rattan table and straightened, giving me one of her looks.
“Boyd said you guys kissed. I’m your big sister, you can tell me anything.”
I rolled my eyes, hating the fact that she’d chosen to play that card. I looked after Jenna, not the other way around.
“So, what, it was a dare,” I lied.
“Please, Amy. Stop that and come and sit with me,” she said, lowering her body onto the ratan sofa, and patting the space beside her. It was the same place that Lara had sat. Ironic right?
Sighing, I placed the bin bag on the floor and lowered myself next to her.
“Well?”
I chewed my lip. I knew I could confide in her, but did I want to confess to my sister that I had lost my virginity to her brother-in-law? The thought was weird in the extreme.
OK, breathe and, “I had sex with Mason last night.”
“You what!” Jenna shot out, very loudly . My eyes widened and I glanced toward the house. If Jenna ever cried out, Nixon was there in a second, in full-on protection mode. Luckily, he hadn’t heard and we remained alone.
“Sorry, what?” she said in a softer voice .
“I shagged Mason.” I wasn’t embarrassed to be sharing this news with Jenna. I was just annoyed. Still smarting from the fact that he’d upped and left without a word. And to think he’d been so cuddly in bed, spooning me for the entire night. It felt amazing to have those strong arms around me. When I’d woken up alone it had felt like there was something missing.
Suddenly Nixon popped his head around the patio doors, concern etched into his face. I didn’t give a shit that he was worried, but it pissed me off that he was clearly about to interrupt my conversation.
Jenna’s pretty nose wrinkled and she shot me a look saying, “Something’s wrong.”
“I can’t get hold of any of the boys and so I’m going to pop home. Check what’s going on. I’ll see you in a bit,” Nixon said in a raised voice so we could hear from the bottom of the garden.
It’s amazing how things came up when it was fucking tidy-up time! Annoyance continued to brew in my gut.
“Let’s talk about this later Amy. And I want to know everything ,” she grinned. I’ll just bet she did.
And, as usual. I was left to tidy up the shit hole that was the aftermath of their fucking party! Jenna scurried off after Nixon like an obedient little dog.
Mattie had helped by collecting about three glasses and putting them in the sink before saying he was going to Alex’s. His mother was deteriorating and I made a note to myself to send him a text to say I was thinking about him.
Chrissy came back from her friend Daniella’s and went straight upstairs to bed. She was a typical teenager and slept half the day during the holidays.
After sorting the carnage and putting the house straight, I so needed that night out.
I checked my phone several times but still nothing from Mason. Had he used me?
I didn’t see Jenna later that evening either and the house was dead, so I texted her to ask her about the following night, and whether she wanted to come into the city.
Her reply… nothing . I didn’t even get the two ticks to say she’d read my message.
After spending the afternoon in the darkroom, experimenting with some old photos, I went to bed that evening, feeling like the walking dead. Mean thoughts about boys entered my dreams and I welcomed them with open arms.
**** *
In the morning, I toyed with texting Mason but what the hell would I say, ‘Had a great night on Saturday’? I hated the radio silence. He’d taken my virginity and then left without a word. He’d made me feel cheap and used, turned something amazing into what now felt like a one-night stand gone wrong. Again. Or was this the normal way boys treated girls when they’d had sex with them? Was I being too needy?
Maybe he’d just wanted a shag and it hadn’t meant as much to him as it had to me? Or I wasn’t the sister he wanted. I knew I was second best to Jenna, maybe Mason thought that too and I was better than nothing? He’d certainly never have the chance with Nixon in the way.
I shook off the painful thought, annoyed at myself for even going there. When had I become so paranoid and pathetic? And why was I so focused on Mason? He was a boy, and one I really fancied but he wasn’t the be-all and end-all of life. I needed to take a serious chill pill. Focus on other stuff. My photography for starters. Maybe I should enrol in one of the courses in London and follow my dreams? I’d been so focused on Jenna and her life that I’d completely disregarded my own. What did I want out of life, what path should I follow? Not one that was totally McKenna focused that’s for sure.
Jenna eventually replied and declined student night in Norwich. She must have stopped at Nixon’s last night. The nightmare that was her husband must have caught wind that I had invited her to come out with us. There was suddenly some type of drama he had to deal with and Jenna had gone to support him. Whatever! He was so manipulative, I would never let anyone do that to me, no matter how conniving they were.
Whilst I was getting ready, I kept glancing at my bed, the memory of what had happened there still fresh in my head. My bed still held his scent and it was so delicious that I hadn’t wanted to change the sheets. I was like a sad little girl struggling with her first crush when all it had been to Mason was a quick (although not that quick) shag .
Later that night, I decided to wear a denim skirt and a black strappy cropped top that showed my flat stomach off. I added heeled sandals and my union jack clutch bag.
I checked my phone for messages, but there was still nothing from Mason. I hated the fact that I was so desperate to hear from him. I felt like a proper loser and I had never chased a boy, ever. I didn’t need to, when I was out, I had to fight them off. When Jenna wasn’t there anyway.
Pushing my phone into the pocket of my skirt, there was a knock on my bedroom door and I paced over to open it.
Chrissy stood there, looking cute in tight jeans and a gold belly top. She wore more make-up than necessary, not as extreme as a Geisha but borderline transsexual. I’d told her about it before but she totally ignored me. She was at that age when you didn’t really know how to do your make-up and trying to teach her had become a headache for me. I lost patience fast; it was another one of my bad points.
“Nice skirt,” she complimented before adding, “Isn’t that mine?”
I grinned, here we go again.
“No Chrissy.” I didn’t say anything mean about her size as she was insecure about her weight. It didn’t help her to have two sisters that were both quite scrawny in comparison. It would come off eventually, once she lost her puppy fat. She didn’t do herself any favours though, eating crisps and drinking cans of pop all the time but what could you do? Sixteen-year-olds had to find their own way.
“Betty meeting us there?” she asked as we made our way downstairs.
“No, she should be here now. She’s picking us up and then leaving the car in town. Wynter can’t make it.”
“That’s a shame.”
During the journey, all the girls talked about was boys. Betty and James were having problems. I didn’t say anything about Mason, how could I? Not with Chrissy there.
When we walked into the club, we drew attention and there were some fit-looking guys in there. I had decided I would enjoy myself tonight and hopefully remove Mason McKenna from my memory banks. For the time being anyway. I wouldn’t do anything stupid, just some mild flirting maybe .
The music was loud and the bar area was crowded. I bought a round of beers and we all went to linger near a cluster of fit-looking guys. It wasn’t planned, there were guys everywhere and only a few groups of girls. The dancefloor was half full which was a surprise, considering it was only ten in the evening.
The conversation flowed well between us. Betty looked stunning in a long black maxi dress and she had her hair tied up. We had only been standing there for around half a bottle of Bud when three guys joined us. Muscled in more like, but we didn’t mind. They were all quite good-looking. The guy I got talking to was called Adam. He was tall with an athletic build and was an accountant and twenty-four. Considering how boring his job sounded, he was quite funny and listened to what I had to say. I hated that active boy listening thing that most guys did.
We were still in a group in our usual ‘girls stick together’ rule. We watched out for each other and never left our drinks unattended. Drink spiking was a regular occurrence in the city.
Adam had a great sense of humour with defined pretty boy looks. I didn’t usually go for red-haired men, but it had more brown in it than ginger and he had proper designer stubble. I wondered how it would feel to kiss him. The others were on the dance floor, leaving Adam and me standing beside one of the mirrored roof supports. He was a bit close to me, considering we’d only be chatting for the last forty-five minutes, boys cracked on quickly in the city apparently.
I glanced behind his shoulder to check on Chrissy, she was dancing with her guy, Rory I think he’d said his name was. He still looked a little old for her but he seemed harmless. Betty was close by and I could see she kept shooting a glance toward my sister. We were both quite protective. The guy she had been with had faded away, probably because Betty kept texting on her phone.
“You have stunning eyes,” Adam suddenly said, before placing his beer on the shelf behind me next to my clutch. I did the same as my phone vibrated in my back pocket, I wanted to check it, but I didn’t want to appear rude.
“Does that line usually work?” I grinned playfully.
“Not once,” he confessed with a boyish smile. He had dimples, I could deal with that. Adam told me not to run off whilst he went to the bar for a refill. He offered me a drink and I said no of course. I wouldn’t drink anything that wasn’t opened in front of my eyes.
Sliding my phone out, I keyed in my code and a jet of adrenaline fizzled into my chest as I saw I had a message from Dickhead.
Of course, Dickhead was in fact, Mason. Maybe I needed to change his name, considering I’d now slept with the soulless bastard.
I tapped the box to see the whole message.
Where the fuck are you?
What the heck? Where did he get off on asking me where I was, I felt like shooting back, where were you? Highlighting his fucking disappearing act on Sunday morning.
I tapped my phone against my chin as I thought about a good comeback. I could see Adam queuing at the bar, his arse certainly looked nice in those dark jeans. And he was an accountant, so he was clever.
I thumbed in, NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS , but then deleted it. I wanted him to know I was out having fun and had not thought of him all night. Yeah right. The guy was on my mind every other minute.
I’m out in town getting shitfaced and talking to an accountant. Why?
I reread what I had put about three times before I clicked send. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long for his reply.
Don’t end up doing what you usually do.
The conversation was snappy. What do I usually do?
Something stupid.
Fuck you. I literally thumped this into my screen with my finger so hard that the screen should have cracked.
You’ve already done that. He was such a frustrating prick.
At that point, Adam came back but I had lost interest. I excused myself and went to the ladies, found a stall, shut the lid, and sat down on it.
In the time it took to tell Adam and the girls that I needed the loo and then found them up about fifty odd fricking stairs, I’d received three more messages.
Well ?
Where are you?
Don’t fucking ignore me, Amy?
Who died and made me your bitch, I felt like screaming into my screen. He surely wasn’t thinking he could play the possessive boyfriend card.
I want to talk to you.
I bit the inside of my cheek, getting more wound up by each message. This was good, that part of me that disliked Mason was growing within me again. I needed that strength as there was no doubt about it now, the man was my weakness.
That’s funny. You clearly didn’t want to the morning after.
Pursing my lips, I narrow my eyes at the screen. ‘ Dickhead is Typing’ appeared with those annoying dots.
Come on, today!
I can explain.
A little too late Mason. I am no man’s one-night stand.
We did it more than once. He pointed out. Mr Funny suddenly. I felt like biting my phone.
Stop trying to be cute and leave me alone. Adam is waiting for me. I added the last bit to see if it pissed him off. His text shot back like a cannonball.
Who the FUCK is Adam. My, my, his reply warranted CAPITAL letters and I suddenly started to enjoy myself. Go on, provoke the beast my inner bitch yelled. My grin was meaty.
Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you. He messaged.
No thanks.
My phone then started ringing, DICKHEAD flashing before my eyes and I struggled with my decision. After a few beats, I ended the call without answering. It rang again a couple more times and I followed the same routine. Mason behaving like a stalker sent a burst of excitement through me.
I knew I needed to get back to Adam. I didn’t want to leave him standing there feeling like a dick.
I’ll see you tomorrow when I get home. Smiling to myself, I loved the line I had construed. This would make him think I was going home with some random guy .
What the fuck does that mean? I thought you didn’t go for one-night stands?
Night, night.
Turning around, I flushed the toilet and pocketed my phone which kept vibrating again, I then left the stall, washed my hands, and went to find Adam. We’d only been there around an hour but I suddenly felt the need to go home. Like the contact from Mason had made me change my mind.
Adam was still standing in the spot I’d left him and he watched me approach, blatantly checking out my legs.
“I thought you’d blown me off,” he said, taking a swig of beer.
“No, not at all, but I’m not feeling that great and I think I need to go home,” I lied.
He looked genuinely concerned and I released that this was a guy that I may be able to have a genuine relationship with. Not one that included a closeted gay man or whatever the fucked-up thing I had going on with Mason was.
“Do you want to share a taxi?” he offered.
“No, thanks. The rank is just outside and the bouncers usually see girls into a cab,” I replied. Adam nodded in understanding before drawing out his wallet. He gave me his business card and I took it with a shy smile, glancing up at him through my lashes.
“If you fancy a night out, give me a call. No pressure.”
I slipped the card into my clutch, smiled and without replying, went to find Betty and Chrissy. They didn’t want to leave, which was fine and Betty said that she’d catch a cab with Chrissy later and that they would go back to hers together. I agreed and told them not to do anything I wouldn’t do and left the club.
In the taxi on the way to mine, I checked my phone again. Mason had sent me two messages that sat there without replies.
I said I can explain
Please don’t do anything I know you’ll regret.
I pushed my phone into my clutch and withdrew the card Adam had given me. It was plain white with gold embossed lettering on it.
ADAM STYLES - Accountant
His mobile number was on the back. It was classy and looked professional and I drew my thumb across the wording .
He was nice and interesting and I was attracted to him, he just wasn’t Mason.
*****
Living in the country meant pitch-black after eleven, even during the summer. It was just after eleven thirty, as I checked my phone before stuffing it into my skirt pocket. The cab driver pulled up the dirt road and drew up outside the gates into our property. It was quite a hike up to the house, but I asked him to pull up outside. The walk would clear my head of cobwebs. Nixon and Jenna were probably still at his place, sorting out his fabricated shit, Mattie was with Alex, and Chrissy would be staying with Betty. Therefore, I had the house to myself.
Opening my bag, I drew out a twenty-pound note. As I pulled the money out, Adam’s card fell onto the seat and so I picked it up, thanked the driver and left the vehicle. I checked my phone was still in my pocket and I held my clutch and the card. I always did second checks when getting out of a taxi in case I left something in there. The chances of you getting anything back were slim to none.
Replaying the night’s events back in my head, I rechecked Adam’s card again. Thinking how nice it would feel to have a normal relationship with a boy. I didn’t have to worry about losing my virginity now and so had one less complex thing to think about.
As I continued to walk up our driveway, I’d left the porchlight on earlier when I’d locked up, so I could at least see without using the flashlight on my phone. Talking of phones, I withdrew it to see that I’d had a message from Betty.
Home safe XOXO
So, they couldn’t have stayed much longer after I’d left. I keyed in a thumbs-up emoji and then stopped at the bottom of our porch, which led up to the front door.
“I thought you were staying out tonight?” Mason’s voice made me jump and I dropped my phone and Adam’s business card. It fluttered toward the ground like an ironic flag of surrender.
Mason was sitting on the top step of the porch of my house, his large arms resting on his knees. He wore jogging bottoms, something I had never seen him in and a white vest top; those large biceps were on display. His body looked mouth-watering. Smoking hot.
A jet of relief swam around my stomach that he was there and had obviously been waiting for me.
“I changed my mind,” I said with a shrug, attempting to hide the tremor in my voice. My eyes drank him in like I had the strongest of thirsts. I couldn’t mask that look as the feeling was just way too strong.
Breaking contact, I bent to retrieve my phone and the card and as I came back to my feet, Mason’s eyes were honed in on my hand.
“What the fuck is that?” he barked, pushing to his feet, and leaping down the rest of the steps with athletic grace. His body bristled with annoyance and I stepped back before I was wearing him.
Mason snatched the card from my fingers and viewed it critically before his eyes shot back to mine with an accusatory element. He seemed to grow before me in size and rolled his shoulders as if the tension there had suddenly doubled in the space of a second.
“What the fuck is this?” he growled down at me. Shaking the card in front of my face.
I shoved my phone into my clutch and then dropped it on the floor at my feet before folding my arms. My eyebrows were sky-high.
“What does it look like? It’s a business card with a man’s phone number on it.”
“Really, well you’re fucking wrong about that one.”
My brow scrunched in confusion as I watched helplessly as Mason tore the card into pieces, “It was a business card,” he snapped out.
The thread on my temper also snapped!
“ Who do you think you are?” I barked out at him as I bent to my hands and knees to grab the torn shreds of the card. I wasn’t that bothered about losing Adam’s number, it was the fact that Mason thought he could just destroy something that was mine.
“ Leave it,” Mason shouted at me, taking me roughly by the arm and dragging me up. He drew me to stand and released me so quickly, as if touching me had offended him. Either that or he was worried about losing control and doing something he’d regret. I could feel the beast in him lurking by the surface. Ready to attack.
I rubbed the flesh; his grip had hurt. Like he’d forgotten how strong he was for a split second before coming to his senses. We’d done so many things to each other during our childhood, some of those physical but never to hurt. Not really.
We stood there, bathed in the glow from the light, his face was half-shadowed which made him appear more menacing. We were both breathing heavily. Mason jammed his hands into his pockets and I dropped mine to my sides. He was struggling with his temper, that fact was written in every chiselled contour of his muscled physique.
His breath whooshed down his nose as he snarled, “You accept another man’s number when you fucked me not two nights ago?”
His words provoked my own monster.
“So, what. You made a quick enough escape afterwards. You didn’t even leave a fucking note.”
“I messaged you, I said I’d explain but you were too busy baiting me to answer your fucking phone.” There were a lot of fucks flying around.
“You can’t just pick me up and put me down when you want Mason, like some type of plaything. If you want a toy, go to the shops, and buy a fucking railway set.”
“I’m not playing, Amy.”
I closed my eyes briefly; I could feel a headache coming on. As I opened them, Mason loomed slightly closer.
“I’m still here.” The irony of his words punched into my heart.
“Yes, this time,” I pointed out childishly.
That muscle I knew so well ticked in his jaw as he glared down at me, almost into me, contaminating my thoughts. That ruthless stare burned a hole right through me.
Mason removed a hand from his pocket and dashed it down his face. He looked tired, his face was strained and my heartstrings were plucked with concern.
Just when I thought our fight was coming to a natural end, he fucked it right up.
“We had sex Amy, you gave me your virginity, not some random bum from a club,” he pointed out .
“You slept in my arms all night, you were mine. You’re still mine,” he growled as if his anger had been relit by some extra fuel. Mason was behaving like a caveman.
“You belong in the National History Museum,” I huffed.
“You belong on my dick,” he snarled, crudely.
I closed the distance between our two bodies and raised myself onto my tiptoes, goading him right in his face, “You may have been my first Mason, but you certainly won’t be my last,” I taunted cruelly.
“What the hell does that mean?” he raged down at me. Thank goodness the house was empty. Mason had literally bellowed down into my face. He was so enraged and I felt turned on by it, but I could identify that slither of caution.
“You’re a big boy, you’ll figure it out.”
He flexed his arms; he was so ready for a fight and I wondered if he’d get physical again like he had that day at the stables. The thought made me want to push him more. I needed his hands on me and I didn’t care how.
Dropping back to my feet, I stood my ground, “I imagine Adam would know his way around a girl’s body, maybe even better than you,” I mocked him recklessly.
Mason released an aggravated grunt, “So, you’re going to fuck half of the village just to get at me, is that it?”
“Why not? Did you think you’d ruined me for anyone else?”
“I’m warning you Amy, cut this shit out. You don’t want to see my territorial side,” Mason growled, his teeth bared. I recalled my childhood taunts and a shiver ran down my spine.
I stepped back but pushed my head forward, getting in his face again and then I prodded him, hard in the centre of his chest. I was surprised I didn’t break my finger.
“You’re an animal Mason, I’ve always thought so,” I said, my eyes piercing his.
He shot a pointed look down at where I touched him, “Why don’t I show you just how much of an animal I can be?”
Mason, then roughly lifted me into his arms and started carrying me toward the Mini that my dad had bought me. I didn’t struggle, I wanted it to happen.
He lowered me to my feet and I slid down his body; his expression was dark with lustful intentions. He then dragged me around by the arm so my back was pressed against his chest (something he always seemed to do). He was breathing heavily from the exertion. Pushing between my shoulder blades he bent me over the bonnet of the car with his hand and body which pushed my backside against his crotch. I was forced to plant both my hands on the metal surface to stop myself from face-planting. I could feel he was hard against my bottom and lust flared inside me, mixing with my fury from moments ago. It was a powerful concoction. I was so turned on; I was throbbing in that place between my legs that Mason had awakened.
The night breeze blew against the tops of my thighs as Mason took the hem of my skirt in his hands. He pulled it up to my waist, exposing my lace-thong underwear to his gaze. He rocked against me as I remained bent over the vehicle, his cock rigid, straining against his bottoms. Mason leaned further into me and pushed my hair over one shoulder and I turned my head, his face was purposeful as I glanced back, my eyes clashing with his.
“Do you want this?” he questioned. He was enraged and desperate for me but I knew he was asking for consent.
I arched my back, pushing the cheeks of my bottom against him and I heard his breath catch.
“I’m going to take you from behind Amy,” he whispered gruffly.
Again, the message was that he was waiting for me to agree. I didn’t need to think about it, “Yes,” I panted. It was like my body was at the mercy of Mason and there was nothing I could do about that.
I turned my head forward and swayed my hips and he moaned before repeating, “Are you sure Amy? It will be hard and it may hurt,” Mason warned in a deep voice charged with a variety of sexual ingredients. Some of those were on the darker side, but I didn’t care. He had broken me in gently and now I wanted something new.
“I said yes,” I repeated, grinding myself back against him, so he’d see how ready I was.
It was going to be a rough ride; I knew that and it thrilled me .
Mason released an animal-like growl and traced a hand down my spine, his fingers moving to the waistband of his joggers. I could feel the back of his large hand against my bottom cheeks as he freed himself, shoving the material down, the velvety softness of his large penis pushing against my naked skin. His other hand then reached down and tore my underwear off. At that point, I was soaking wet and totally ready for him.
And that was the first time I had sex with Mason, bent over the bonnet of my car. It was fast, hard, and rough and even better than those first two tender times.
He gave no quarter as he drove into me. I didn’t care that we were outside in the yard, I just needed to feel him again. He smacked my bare backside a couple of times, hard and I almost came on both occasions. Mason’s sexual grunts as he pounded into me took my impassioned frenzy to another level and it didn’t take long before we found our sexual release together. It was deep, hot, heady, and fucking amazing . I liked it rough it appeared. Just like those girls I read about in my books. The slight pain I’d felt had been manageable and partly masked by that level of excitement which exploded into me with each thrust of Mason’s body. He’d also bent his body over me and kissed my shoulder a couple of times as he rocked into me, a silent apology for the savageness of the sex.
Once we had both recovered, Mason then lowered my skirt, and yanked up his joggers, pulling me up from the car. It was only after he turned me in his arms and kissed me deeply and affectionately that I realised…
He hadn’t used protection.