Chapter Twenty-Three
Before I took my usual seat at the lunch table, I scanned the cafeteria for Morgan.
She was standing with two other girls against the wall near the vending machines, all three of them eating out of small bags of chips.
When I approached, they all went quiet, the way people do when they’re not sure if they’re in trouble.
Morgan saw me and said something to the other two, then stepped away to meet me halfway. She gripped the straps of her bookbag with both hands.
“What’s up?” she said.
“Do you want to sit with me?” I asked cheerfully.
Her eyes flickered past me toward the table where Emily and Lindsey were already setting down their trays. “Like…with the Barbies?”
“Yes,” I said. “If you promise not to call them that when we sit down.”
She almost smiled. “Why?”
I shrugged. “I figured since we’re friends.”
“We’re friends?” Her whole face changed when she said it, opened up in a way that mirrored the way August’s did when we were alone in his room.
I gave her a pointed look. “Yes, Morgan.”
Emily and Lindsey stopped talking the moment we reached the table. Their eyes moved from me to Morgan and back again in that slow, practiced way they had, like they were waiting to know how to feel about it.
“Hi,” Lindsey said, drawing the word out like a question.
“This is Morgan,” I said. “Morgan, Lindsey, Emily.” I gestured between them.
Morgan lifted her hand, wiggling freshly painted nails in a small wave.
Emily gave the smile she used on teachers, which was more than most strangers got.
Lindsey, her eyes blood shot like she’d just come in from smoking, smiled widely.
I unwrapped my tuna sandwich and took a bite, and after a moment, the conversation started back up again, while Morgan sat very still beside me, and I thought about how easy it had been to bring her into my world, and how strange that was.
Would it be that easy to bring August here too?
* * *
When I pulled into August’s driveway he was leaning against the trunk of his car, hands shoved deep in his pockets. I got out of my car and moved slowly toward him, the uncanny feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff falling over me.
“Why was my sister at your table?” The words came out clipped, and I could tell by the ticking in his jaw he was restraining himself.
“I thought you wanted us to be friends,” I said slowly.
“You can be friends with Morgan, Lola. But I don’t want my sister around those—” he cut himself off, but I knew what word he didn’t say.
“Can we talk about this inside, please?” I said, my voice came out weaker than I meant for it to.
“No,” he said firmly.
“Why?” I argued.
“Because I know you’re going to spew some bullshit to defend your friends, and I don’t want to hear it. Not up there.”
“So you’re expecting me to lie to you?” I asked flatly. He didn’t answer me.
“You’re unbelievable.” I scoffed, stabbing my manicured finger into his chest. “You love to preach to me about what I deserve. That I’m allowed to be complicated, and how I shouldn’t feel ashamed for what I want, but you won’t grant any of them the same grace.
What’s the difference between me and them, August? That I let you touch me?”
He let out a humorless laugh. “Wouldn’t that be convenient for you?
To delude all of this to just that. Is that what you want, Lola?
” He stepped closer, leaning down so his breath fanned across my lips.
“You want me to treat you like you’re just a thing to fuck so you can say I’m no better than them? ”
My mouth hung open, and it would have been so easy for me to stretch onto my toes and close the gap between us.
“I gotta tell you, Sin, it’s a little disappointing when you don’t bite back.” he said in a daring tone that sent heat straight to my core.
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Is that what you want? You want to fight with me?”
“Yes,” he snarled.
“Fine,” I snapped. “You’re mad that I was nice to your sister, and you want to convince yourself you’re being a protective brother, trying to keep her from turning into a thoughtless bitch.
But the truth is, it terrifies you that she might just like my friends.
Maybe she’d even fit in with them. Then, you’d have to admit that I wasn’t an anomaly to the neat little box you’ve shoved all of them in.
But, news flash, August, we’re not in a drama movie—they’re real people, with real problems, and sometimes they don’t handle them perfectly.
I’m sorry that not everyone can be as intelligent and mature as you are. ”
I was panting when I finished, and his scowl had only deepened when he asked, “Are you done?”
“No,” I growled. “I’m mad at you too.”
A devilish grin spread across his face as he said, painfully slow, “What are you mad about, Sin?”
“You haven’t touched me since Saturday.” I meant for it to sound accusing, harsh. But instead it sounded whiney and pathetic.
“We danced in my living room yesterday,” his tone was cruelly casual.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” I hissed.
He lifted his hand, pressing his thumb into my bottom lip, pulling it down. “You worried I didn’t like it, Sin?”
I scoffed, but he kept closing in, forcing me to step backward.
“Or are you just jealous you couldn’t have me all to yourself yesterday?
Need me to tell you how fucking desperate I am to touch you again?
” I swallowed tightly. “You’re getting awfully spoiled, Lola.
Is your boyfriend not giving you enough attention, need me to fill the gaps for you? ”
He took another step, and this time when I stepped back my knees hit the hood of my car, causing me to fall backward. August caught me, his long fingers digging into my thighs. He lifted me instantly, and my arms went around his neck on instinct.
He looked up at me, green eyes glowing as that stupid smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. The hem of my little white dress hiked up to my hips and his long fingers brushed over the damp fabric between my legs. “So fucking needy.” He said, pressing his mouth into the center of my chest.
“August,” I panted.
“Yes, Sin?” he breathed.
“Take me upstairs. Now.” I commanded, and he was already moving.
He pulled my heels off as we went up the stairs, and dropped them by the door, then kicked off his own.
“Now what?” he asked, teasing.
I ran my thumb along his bottom lip as I whispered, “Put me on the couch.”
He moved around the sofa, knelt into the cushion so he could lower me onto it. He hovered above me, staring at me like he was waiting for me to tell him exactly what to do.
“Now say you’re sorry,” I whispered, my voice trembling a bit. “But only if you mean it.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, dipping to repeat the words against my jaw, down my throat, across my collarbones. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I ran my fingernails through the curls at the nape of his neck.
“Tell me you want me,” I demanded.
His hips lowered to rest against my center, and I could feel the straining heat of him through his jeans. He pushed against me, sending a wave of pleasure to my core. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me.
“I want you more than air. I am so fucking desperate to please you, Lola,” he growled against the column of my neck. “Tell me I can.”
“Beg me, August,” I challenged.
He groaned, loud and hot against my skin, as he bucked his hips into mine again.
“Please, Lola,” he said, his voice caught like he was in pain as he pushed my dress up to expose my stomach.
He hooked his thumb into the side of my panties, pulling at them like the white cotton was the only anchor he had in the world.
“I want to feel you, taste you, hear you. You can pretend I’m one of those stupid football players if you want—just let me touch you. ”
I gripped his hair, pulling him back to force him to look at me. “You are fucking desperate, aren’t you, baby?”
He nodded, pulling his own hair in my grasp.
“So sweet how you always want to take care of me. But I don’t want anyone’s mouth but yours,” I cooed, and he thrust against me, harder this time.
“What happened to all of that attitude you had in the driveway, August?” My full lips fell into a mocking pout. “You seemed awfully determined to be right. Are you sure you didn’t want to talk about it some more?”
He nodded desperately. “I’m sure,” he whimpered.
“Are you going to trust me when I say I’d never do anything to hurt your sister?” I pressed, and he nodded again.
“Yeah, Sin, I trust you.” His smile was too charming, his long canines exposed.
“Show me,” I said, letting go of his hair.
August’s head dipped between my thighs instantly, his tongue going flat against my clit through the fabric of my panties. I sucked in a harsh breath as I felt his saliva soak through.
“More,” I moaned.
His hands were at my sides then, pulling the cotton down my long legs.
He sucked in a deep breath at the sight of me, and wasted no time, pulling my feet, clad in lace-trimmed socks, to rest against his shoulders.
His middle finger came around to push into me; the abrupt fullness paired with the warmth of the metal of his ring caused my whole body to tighten instantly.
“Slow,” I breathed out.
“Sorry.” He placed a kiss on the inside of my thigh, trailing them downward as he began to move in and out of me at a torturous pace.
The sight of him between my legs was so beautiful that I wondered if he’d be offended if I took his picture like that. The thought was wiped away by the feeling of his mouth closing around my clit.
“Fuck, August,” I moaned, and his green eyes flashed up to meet mine. His pupils were fully blown, and his cheeks were flushed with my favorite color.
When the tip of his tongue flicked against me I gasped, and my fingers were laced in his hair again. He did it again, smiling as he did, and I felt a wave of warmth pooling where his finger moved slowly inside me.