Chapter 16 Dread
DREAD
I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life.
Letting my mom walk out that front door was the biggest. Fucking Reverie Adams definitely takes second place.
I said one time was all I needed, and I meant it.
Except, by the time she finished stripping and sat on my lap, I was already bargaining with myself.
And when I saw her spread open for me, her pink cunt sopping wet and so goddamn pretty…
I settled on one more time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more perfect in my life.
I’ve never felt a hunger like that, either, especially after hearing no one had licked her there before.
It was made even worse when she came so hard, her cum squirted from her cunt and all over me.
I would be a goddamn idiot to indulge in that only once.
Then, she looked up at me with those big, penny-colored eyes while she swallowed my cock, and I couldn’t remember why I settled on just one more time.
When I felt her tight cunt wrapped around me, I told myself I’d need three max—until I slapped her ass, and she got so fucking excited from the pain, she started laughing.
I tried to find a reasonable number after that, but then I made the mistake of picturing her doing that for some other asshole, and I gave up.
I made her promise me something I never should have, because now, I can’t let it—no, her—go.
Maybe I could’ve if she didn’t fucking tell me I’m the first to make her come like that, and I’d still really like to know if that’s even true.
It fucking better be.
I'm seeing red just thinking about it being a lie.
Fuck.
I should’ve never touched her. I should’ve just drowned her and let her father take the fall for it. Two D’Amours out of my life in one sweep.
You still can.
I can’t.
She’s a huge mistake, but a mistake I’ll repeat until I get her out of my system. Because I will get her out of my system.
My right wrist rests on the top of the steering wheel as I navigate the dark streets, my left elbow propped up on the door while I run the pad of my middle finger over my bottom lip.
Guilt eats me alive, my head conjuring my mom's voice, the same three words whispered brokenly on a constant loop.
How could you?
How could I? I don't fucking know, but I hate myself for it so goddamn much—especially because I don't think I can stop.
The taste of her pussy still lingers on my tongue, and it’s driving me insane that it’s fading. I make a right turn with the heel of my palm, igniting a burning pain in my neck. When my hand returns to the top of the leather steering wheel, I squeeze it with all my strength.
Not only was that the best fuck I’ve ever had, but for the first time in my life, I came so hard, I pinched a goddamn nerve in my neck.
Which is really unfortunate for me, considering I have practice early in the morning. Coach has been pushing me harder after my sleeping med mishap, and a pinched nerve will fuck up my time.
Reverie shifts in the corner of my eye, her body tucked as far into the door as it’ll allow. She’s nearly face-planting the window with how close she is to it. The reflection offers me a glimpse of the soft frown on her face, but nothing about what she’s thinking.
Probably the same thing I am.
Except she’d be happy to let this go and pretend it didn’t happen. She’d rather go back to the way things were before: I make her miserable, and she finds some way to get back at me.
Rinse and repeat.
But tonight changed everything, and it’s impossible to go back.
If her pussy didn’t make sure of that, her father getting out of prison sure as fuck did.
Her phone pings, prompting her to look down at it. I gave it back when we got into the car five minutes ago, and she’s spent the entire time texting Barry.
Her thumbs fly across the keyboard while she anxiously chews her bottom lip, her leg bouncing, a nervous energy radiating from her.
There’s the distinct sound of an incoming message, followed by Reverie cursing beneath her breath.
“You want to share with the class?” I ask dryly.
She turns to burn a hole in the side of my head. “You caused a lot of fucking issues,” she snaps. “Officer Nichols reported me missing. The police have been all over campus looking for me for the past couple of hours.”
Oops.
I glance at her, my chest tightening with an emotion I refuse to name. “Who the fuck is Officer Nichols?”
She rolls her eyes. “He was escorting me before you pulled the fire alarm. He got distracted by the chaos, so I tried to just get an Uber there instead. Poor lady was probably so worried when I didn't come back.” She glances at me, and then grumbles, “Dickhead.”
I glance at her, arching a brow. “Are you expecting me to feel bad about thwarting your plans? Because I can give you one very pretty, pink, and wet reason why I never will.”
It's too dark to tell for sure, but I'm positive her cheeks are burning, even as she growls, “You don’t care about anyone but yourself, do you?”
That pisses me off, especially coming from her, of all fucking people.
“I can think of several families I care about a fuck of a lot more than you,” I respond coldly.
Her spine snaps straight before she twists toward me with a murderous look.
“Really? Like you know anything about me or how I feel? You are such a fucking—” She cuts herself off and raises her hands.
“You know what? I’m not arguing with you about this right now.
I’ve got bigger goddamn problems.” She mutters the last part, settling back into her seat with a huff and resuming her texting.
Except, I really want to argue with her.
Anything to distract me from the taste of her still clinging to my tongue. It’s hard to enjoy the flavor when it’s mixed with guilt for betraying my mother and sleeping with the enemy.
I'm on the verge of spiraling, those three fucking words still on a loop in my head.
How could you?
“What did you tell Barry?” I ask, growing desperate for a distraction. “About where you’ve been.”
She casts me a disgruntled look.
“I told him I thought Lionel was the one who pulled the fire alarm—which I did, by the way, asshole—and ran off. I said my phone died, so I had to take a bus to Sable’s and only just got it charged.” Then she sassily grumbles, “You’re fucking welcome for covering for your ass.”
My lips twitch.
Reverie has gone to the dean about my bullying plenty over the years, but that man refuses to see me as anything other than a dollar sign. He’s gone as far as hinting at her expulsion should she continue to make accusations that threaten my career.
He's actually a huge fucking prick, and I won't act like him dismissing her claims against me hasn't gotten beneath my skin over the years.
Not because of Reverie specifically, but because it could be something he's doing to other women, too.
Which is why I've made it a point to listen for any women with serious claims, because I have no fucking issue using my resources to go after the asshole and get him fired should he not take them seriously.
So far, Reverie's proven to be the exception, likely only because I'm the exception.
Nevertheless, I'm sure she knows she could sue if she’s wrongfully expelled, but she also knows that while many people have witnessed me fucking with her, they’ve also witnessed her fucking with me right back.
If enough people were to take my side and spin things to fit my narrative, she could easily lose—and she’s well aware that’s exactly how it could happen, too.
It hasn’t kept her silent completely, but it’s enough not to take it to the authorities or the media. HCU is her dream school, and she’s made it abundantly clear over the years that I’m not worth losing everything over.
So, I’m not worried about her running her mouth any more than she’s worried about me running mine, especially now, since she’ll be too busy soaking my sheets every night.
She shifts uncomfortably before her hand drifts to her collarbone, only to suddenly drop again. Brows knitting, I stare at her for a moment before I realize why she’s being weird.
“Your necklace. You’re not wearing it.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without it since Barry gave it to her. Ever.
She sniffs. “I left it on my nightstand.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a dumbass, that’s why.”
Her tone is sharp, but it also trembles. So I do what I never fucking do: I take the hint and let it go. I’m not even sure why, but I guess if I'm going to fight with her about something, there's an entire menu worth of better options.
How could you?
My chest constricts painfully, and my desperation for another distraction returns as several beats of silence pass.
“So, was it my cock that convinced you to cover for me?”
Her head whips back to me, an incredulous look on her face. “Now, why on earth would you think something as stupid as that?”
A grin stretches across my face, and my chest eases as I get lost in the joys of pissing off Reverie.
“Because Barry would have me arrested if you told him the truth. Which means I'd go to jail, and you wouldn’t have my dick to suck on anymore.”
And my fucking God, is she incredible at sucking me. It was unlike anything I've experienced before, and I'd get really fucking pathetic to experience it again.
It'll actually piss me off if I think about her skill too deeply, because she obviously had to learn that shit from fucking somewhere, and I'm likely to kill whoever taught her that.
Reverie sputters, and even in the dark car with only passing streetlights to illuminate her face, her reddening cheeks and the flames in her eyes are quite prominent. If it were possible, she’d have smoke blowing out of her ears.
I bite my bottom lip as the urge to laugh arises.
“Are you kid— You are such— I wouldn’t even— Ugh! I seriously fucking hate you!”
I’d have an easier time resisting her pussy than containing my laugh. It bubbles out of my throat, and when her eyes widen and she looks at me like I just confessed my love for her, I only laugh harder.