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  I manage to land my ball in one other cup during the night, but after drinking cup after cup of beer, my aim goes to shit, and I end up being the biggest loser of the night. One game turns into two and by the time we end, I’m a royal, drunken mess. And I need to pee.

  While Cammy talks up some tall, wiry guy beside her, I dart off in search of a bathroom. I start with the one in the pool house since it's close by, but after several jiggles of the handle, my ears are met with loud moaning that takes the term relieving yourself to a whole new meaning. Backtracking the way I came, I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and head to the house.

  The party is raunchier than before if that’s possible. There are people everywhere. Loud voices and even louder music float in the crowded room, making my head spin and my bladder beg for release. I swear every heavy beat from the song playing over the speakers feels like a punch to the gut. Moving as fast as my body will allow, I maneuver my way to the hallway where I find a freaking line eight people deep awaiting the one room I so desperately need. I glare at everyone before me wishing they would hurry the hell up and get out of my way. Game or no game, I shouldn’t have drunk all those beers. I feel positively ill.

  “I can’t wait any longer,” I mutter to myself and step back to look for another option. Besides taking a squat in the backyard that would surely get myself noticed and adequately nicknamed for the rest of my high school years, there is one other bathroom in the house, but it resides upstairs which is restricted to party goers.

  This is a rule I would generally respect and not tempt to deviate around, but with my bladder on the verge of rupturing and my head feeling more burdensome than it should, I find myself sneaking away from the line as quiet as a drunken girl can and making a beeline for the back stairs. With no one around to stop me, I take the steps two at a time and reach the landing before anyone notices my assent.

  I scan the open room I’m in, taking stock of the large screen television mounted to a wall, several oversized leather sofas, a coffee table, dark furnishings, a few overstuffed ottomans and two long hallways that lead in opposite directions. Blowing my hair from my face, I let out an aggravated huff. Why does everything have to be so hard? My heavy head swivels back and forth not knowing which way to go. Both hallways appear identical, with two doors on the right side and one on the left. Not wanting to waste another precious second, I choose the corridor closest to me and fumble my way down the dark hall to the first door on the right. I wiggle the handle and come up empty when I find it locked. One down, two to go.

  Refusing to give up, I move on to the second door and give the knob a turn. When the door opens, and I spot tiled flooring and a pedestal sink I want to weep with relief. Doing a fist pump in the air and a little twirl, I silently thank the bathroom gods for leading me in the right direction. Slipping in I shut the door behind me and turn the lock before working frantically to peel my clothing off. My skirt is being a stubborn bitch, and after almost falling on my ass twice, I give up on pulling it down and just yank the damn thing up and my panties to the side. Not the most ladylike way to get my business done, but with the bind my bladder is in, I don’t give two shits about right or wrong.

  After finishing my business, I remain seated on the toilet with my head leaning back against the wall. I should get up and return to Cammy before she freaks out that I’m gone, but I just don’t have the energy to accomplish that yet. I’m not going to lie, I’m a bit messed up from the drinking game. My vision isn’t as sharp as it was earlier and my head feels two sizes too big. I can hear the party raging from downstairs and something else. Noises that I can’t put my finger on are coming from the other side of the wall behind me which happens to be the locked room I previously tried. My ears strain to listen, but the noises are too faint to make out.

  The bathroom I’m in appears to be an ensuite. There’s another door here that connects this bathroom to the bedroom beside me, the same room that is housing sounds that mystify me beyond reason. Whether it’s because of the alcohol in my system or my petulant need to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, I find myself righting my clothes, washing my hands, and tiptoeing to the other side of the room where I cautiously turn the doorknob leading back to the bedroom.

  The door gives way and swings open on silent hinges. My breath catches at the sight before me, and my heart plunges to the floor. I’m surprised no one can hear it crack because that is precisely what it does. It splinters into a million tiny irrevocable pieces as I watch Dex laid out on the bed, his shirt unbuttoned and spread out beneath him, his pants and boxers are pulled down to his knees, and his mouth is parted as quick puffs of breath expel between his lips. There knelt between his spread legs is a tiny blonde girl. Her dress clings to her tight frame revealing a nice set of tits, much fuller than mine, and her head furiously bobs up and down as her mouth engulfs Dex’s stiff cock. She’s giving him one hell of a blowjob if his expression is anything to go by.

  I gape at him. My brain is doing a horrible job of grasping the scene unfolding in front of me. I completely ignore the blonde and the slurping noises emitting from her mouth and concentrate on Dex. I can’t stop watching the way his hips move in a tangible thrusting motion or the way his eyelashes flutter as she works to take more of him in her mouth. Watching him having a private moment is wrong on so many levels, and yet, I can’t force my gaze away.

  “Harder,” Dex rasps, his hand reaching to grip the glossy strands of her hair. Her head dips lower and whatever she’s doing must feel good, because he rewards her with a “God, yes babe. Again.”

  His gravelly voice coaxes over my skin, and my whole body starts to tingle. Trying to ignore the sensations spiraling around my core is like trying to forget how to ride a bike. It can’t be undone.

  The girl rises from her place on the floor and begins crawling up his lean body, Dex’s full erection is revealed in all its hard, glistening glory. I’ve watched some hard-core movies a time or two, but I’ve never seen a guy’s dick before in the flesh, which is why I can’t help the involuntary intake of breath I have when it comes into view. My actions don’t go unnoticed. Before I can slink back into the bathroom, I’ve got two sets of eyes trained on me, one annoyed from being interrupted while the other wide-eyed with shock and something else I can’t name. It’s an emotion I’ve never seen staring back at me before, at least not from Dex.

  “Addy?” he says softly.

  Hearing him say my name makes everything so much worse. I blink a few times, doing a lousy job of getting my thoughts to line up and make a lick of sense. I take a step back and then another, inching my way into the interior of the bathroom so I can make a run for it. I’ve got to get out of here and as far away as possible. Another state sounds good. A place where no one knows my name and I can leave behind the humiliation I feel for staying and watching my friend get a blow-job. An act that I secretly wish I was a part of. Not a threesome though, just the two of us. I want to be that girl between his legs giving him pleasure.

  “Dex, who is she and why is she staring at you like that?” The girl doesn’t even try hiding her disdain as she points a slender finger my way. Heat fills my cheeks, and my mortification climbs a new notch.

  With my hand gripped on the door frame, I practically sprint into the attached bathroom and back out to the hallway. I hear Dex call out my name, his voice a rumbling distraction that I choose to ignore. My mind is running as fast as my feet as I retrace my steps to the game room and down the stairs to the main floor. Tears pool in the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Pushing and shoving my way through the throngs of kids, I make it to the front of the house, and step out onto the front porch just as two arms wrap around my waist and lift me off my feet.

  My scream is cut off short as Dex’s hand clamps down over my trembling lips. Moving me as if I weigh nothing, he carries me bridal style over to a wooden swing in the corner of the porch and sits down with me laid out over his lap. I’m too stunned to move
right away, and Dex takes advantage of my dumbfounded demeanor and tightens his hold on me, effectively molding me to his broad frame.

  The first thing I notice is the severe set of his eyes as they bore into me, the second is that his shirt is still unbuttoned, showcasing a lot of bare skin, and the third is that he is still hard. As if reading my mind, Dex repositions the way he is holding me and his erection presses deliciously into the crack of my ass. I fight hard to keep from squirming against it, but the temptation to feel him is too much to resist.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  His question tears me from my hormonal thoughts and brings me back to the present. My eyebrows raise at him, and he lifts his back in return. “It’s a public party, Dex. Obviously, I came to have some fun.”

  He frowns at me. “Are you by yourself?”

  I shake my head. “No. Cammy is off in there somewhere. Probably looking for me about now. I ran off to find a bathroom. The downstairs one was busy.” My eyes narrow as I recall what I saw upstairs. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Is my brother around?”

  He just smiles back at me. “He’ll be here soon. Had to stop and pick someone up.” He moves his hand and brushes a strand of my hair from my face. “Did you like the show? I never took you as a voyeur.”

  My cheeks heat until they feel as if they could catch fire. “I didn’t know you were in there. It took me by surprise.” I bite my lip. “You didn’t have to follow me down here. I’m sure that girl you were with won’t appreciate it.”

  I catch the amused glint in his eyes a second before his hand cups the back of my neck and pulls me closer, so much so, that our faces are inches apart and every breath he exhales skates over my skin. “I don’t care about her.” His nose brushes against mine, and my eyes flutter. A voice inside my head is shouting at me to snap out of it and pull away, but my body isn’t listening. It’s moving on auto-pilot and rubbing against the erection straining against the zipper of Dex’s jeans.

  “Then who do you care about?” I shouldn’t ask this question. I’m putting us on shaky ground, something that I’ve fought hard to keep from doing since I turned fourteen and realized just how hot Dex was. He’s forbidden fruit, a bad boy by nature, and a friend that I don’t want to lose. Not to mention, my brother would never forgive me for messing around with him.

  Dex sidesteps my question and asks one of his own. “Did you like what you saw, Addy? I bet if I touched you right now I would find you wet and needy.” I shake my head around like a bobble doll, not trusting myself to speak, afraid if I do, I’ll say something I can’t take back. Dex isn’t put off by my lack of answer and keeps probing. “Did you wish it was you positioned between my legs? Would you wrap that luscious mouth of yours around my cock or would you rather me lay you out on the bed and suck on your clit until you come?”

  My brain is officially fried. No logical answer can bypass the lump taking up residence in my throat. I swallow, trying to relieve the tightness, but it’s useless. I hold his blazing gaze for what seems like forever. My chest is beating so hard he must feel it. God, I hope he can’t tell how horny I am. Wetting my lips, I open my mouth ready to try and diffuse the chemistry happening between us when I hear a loud whistle in the distance.

  At first, I ignore it, but then it comes again, only this time closer and with my name thrown in. Moving on pure instinct, I bolt out of Dex’s arms and dart away from him as if a swarm of angry bees is after me. I make it to the edge of the porch just as my brother and Cammy come walking around the corner.

  My brother’s eyes flash in annoyance when they land on me. “You’re in big trouble, Sis. You know you’re not supposed to be here.”

  I roll my eyes. “And neither are you, and yet, here you are,” I argue.

  “You’re leaving,” he declares. “Get your stuff and meet me at the truck. I’m taking you and Cammy home.”

  I glance at Cammy, but she’s glassy-eyed and too wasted to be of any help. Guilt eats at me that I left her alone in this state. What if something happened to her while I was gone? I’m the shittiest friend on the planet. Resigned to get Cammy home and too tired to fight with my brother, I slip a hand around Cammy’s shoulders and help her walk across the rocky driveway. We only get a few steps away when I hear his low voice trail behind me.

  “Another time, Jelly Bean. And next time you go waltzing into someone else’s bedroom, be sure and knock first.”

  Not daring to turn and look at Dex’s face, I duck my head and pick up my pace. I might get all tongue-tied and out of sorts around Dex, but I’ve known him long enough to learn that he isn’t the type of guy who sticks around and promises a happy ending. He’s bad for me in every way possible, and despite being hot, he’s my best friend. I don’t want to screw that up.

  Chapter Four

  Addison – Age Sixteen

  “This year is going to be the death of me. I got Mr. Burrows for Algebra and Miss Jenson for English. I’m doomed.” My best friend Cammy blows out a heavy breath as she slumps against the locker beside mine, giving me a defeated look.

  I continue trying to shove my larger than life biology book into a space much too small for it. I swear they make these lockers little just to torture us. I already have my books stacked three high, and I still have two more to go. This is insane.

  With a hard push and quick reflexes, I manage to close the door of my locker. I’m not dense and realize this is only a temporary solution. Whenever I reopen it later, everything will come tumbling down on me. But what else can I do? It’s either this or carry it all around in my backpack and risk spending the remainder of my years slumped over, unable to walk vertically without the help of a cane. Okay, that might be a bit dramatic, but these damn books weigh a ton.

  I glance at Cammy with an arched brow. “It’s the first day of school, how can it already be that bad? Plus, didn’t you have Mr. Burrows last year for geometry? If I recall correctly, you passed that class with a B average.”

  “That was last year,” she counters. Wrapping my fingers around the straps of my backpack, I make haste down the hall towards my all-time favorite class, photography. Cammy joins in beside me, determined to continue this conversation and her petulant pouting. “Maybe it’s because I’m no longer a freshman. Teachers are always much nicer when it’s your first year. Being a sophomore could be the beginning of the end for me. I mean, who in their right mind gives homework on the first day?”

  I shrug in response. I’ve learned to pick my battles when it comes to Cammy. This is not an argument worth having. Our steps mingle with the sounds of others as we navigate through the crowds. Giving Cammy, a nudge with my elbow, I gain her attention. “You want to come to my house after school and study? I don’t have any math homework, but Mrs. Sims from Spanish gave me two pages of vocabulary to complete. I’ll help you solve equations, and you can save me from calling a chicken a goat and vice versa.”

  Cammy laughs, her flamboyant voice carrying down the hallway, catching the attention of several students. My eyes shift down to the floor out of habit. Unlike my friend, I’ve never been one who enjoys being in the spotlight. It’s not as if the kids would say anything to my face but that wouldn’t stop them from talking behind my back.

  I used to have lots of friends. In Junior High, I was named most social in the yearbook. One day during eighth grade, I got asked out for the first time by Julien Thomas. I was on cloud nine. Not only was Julien cute and sweet, but he was a football player and one of the popular guys. The CW Boys were not as thrilled about my upcoming date. In fact, the jerks actually threatened to lock me in my room if I tried to go. Their protectiveness over me has been mounting the older I got. I always thought they were all talk and no bite.

  Our date was hashed out over late-night phone calls, and secret notes passed during second-period history. We agreed to meet up for a bite to eat with friends, followed by a movie. As Friday night arrived, I dressed to impress and waited with Cammy at a local burger joint. Julien sai
d he would join us after football practice. When the first thirty minutes passed, and he hadn’t arrived, I told myself he was running late. It didn’t take long for the whispers around us to take flight. Once the clock on the wall showed an hour had passed, I succumbed to the fact that I’d been stood up. I tried calling and texting him but never got an answer. I was mortified, to say the least, and cried myself to sleep that night.

  The following Monday Julien showed up to school with a black eye and a busted lip. I suspected the CW Boys were behind it, but I had no proof. I questioned them numerous times, but the only answers I got were mischievous smiles. They were blowing me off.

  I was furious, especially when Julien acted like I had the plague and darted off every time he saw me. The whole thing was ridiculous. By Wednesday, I’d had enough and declared that something had to be done. With Cammy’s help, we started spreading rumors around the school about the boys. Gossip spreads like wildfire.

  The guys were pissed and demanded that I stop. I agreed, but only if they came clean about sabotaging my date. We were at a stalemate. By the time, they succumbed, tales of Nate having crabs, Jimmie sleeping in girls’ panties, and Dex’s heart-shaped pubic hair were a favorite among all circles.

  They had pressured Julien to call off our date and when he refused, they beat him up. That day set a precedent in our school. My friends dropped like flies until only a handful remained. I’ve only had a handful of dates and those boys were either brave, stupid, or suicidal. Instead of crying about it, I centered my life around Cammy, school, family, and, of course, the CW Boys. I should hate them for interfering in my life, but they are my family. I love them too much to push them away. I’ve wisened up and learned how to sneak around and stay out of the limelight. It’s a resource that’s worked well for me.

  A hard elbow to the ribs snaps me out of my internal thoughts. “About damn time you came back to life. It creeps me out how easily you space out. If I didn’t know better, I would think I was boring you.”