And he bites my neck and starts fucking me harder, not holding back and neither of us being quiet.
For the rest of the night.
My entire body feels like I was caught in a tornado. My arm muscles are sore, my neck hurts, I have bruises on my hips, and my ass…
It was fun while it was going on last night, but after waking up this morning in pain everywhere, I told him we can’t do that again.
He just retorted that my body wasn’t used to it, and we should do it more.
Man, our fifth-grade teachers would be proud.
I pull into a parking space at school and groan as I gingerly climb out of the Jeep. We were up half the night, and while I’m not at all tired, I’m kind of regretting not staying home and soaking in a bath today. I’m supposed to teach swim tonight, and I forgot the Advil at home.
I reach into the back of the car and pull out my duffel with my swimsuit and change of clothes. After we woke up early this morning, Misha drove me back to school to collect my Jeep, and then he went to the Cove to pack up his stuff while I went home to shower and clean up.
I’m not sure if he’s going to be in school today, but then I feel hands come around my waist and I break out in a shiver as a whisper hits my ear from behind.
“Are you sore?” he teases.
I arch an eyebrow and turn around, seeing him smirk down at me. “Are you kidding?”
“It was fun, though.”
I can’t hold back the smile as my cheeks warm. Yeah, it was.
We walk into the school and head for my locker, and I notice he’s sticking by my side.
“I’m fine, you know,” I tell him. Yesterday—Trey, Lyla, and the lunchroom—feels like ages ago. I’m not scared.
“I know.”
“Masen,” someone calls.
I turn around to see Ms. Till, the Art teacher, carrying a pink slip. She hands it to him, speaking sweetly. “The principal would like to see you in the office. She wanted me to give you this in first period, but I just spotted you. You may as well go now.”
He takes the slip, and she pats him on the arm, walking away. Misha doesn’t read it, merely crumbles it in his fist and tosses it to the ground.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “If she can’t get a hold of your parents about the fights, she could bring in the police. Do you want to be found out?”
“I think we know how well I stay arrested,” he retorts, a cocky look on his face.
I roll my eyes. Yeah, okay, Rich Boy.
Pulling out my sketch book, I spot the cashmere scarf still hanging in the locker, and something hits me. He gave me a new scarf that first week. With perfume on it.
“Whose scarf did you try to give me that first week?”
His eyes drop, looking somber. “Annie’s.”
Annie’s? His sister?
And then my eyes go wide, and I turn to him, remembering what I’d said. “Oh, my God,” I burst out. “Annie. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”
I cringe at myself. I called her a skank, thinking she was some random girl who’d left her clothes behind in his truck. Shit.
“It’s okay.” He gives a half-smile. “I know you didn’t know.”
Ugh. I feel sick. I’m the worst.
“Well, you couldn’t give it to me anyway,” I scold. “She’d want it back.”
He grows quiet, avoiding my eyes.
I’d totally forgot his sister in all the drama. She’s a junior. Where was she last night? His dad must’ve come home during my nap, because Misha had to lock the door later on so he wouldn’t walk in on us, but Annie was never mentioned.
“Mr. Laurent.”
I turn my head to see Principal Burrowes coming down the hallway. Students move around her, everyone heading to their first class.
“In my office,” she orders. “Now.”
He turns away from her. “No, thanks.”
I stand frozen, watching. Just go, Misha. She’s not going to let him off the hook, and it’s only going to escalate.
“Now.”
“I’d rather not leave my friend alone when that piece of shit son of yours is roaming the halls,” he snarls. “Aren’t there laws about sexual predators not allowed to be within a certain number of feet from a school?”
Anger mars her face. “If I have to ask again, I’m calling the police.”
“Mi—Masen,” I corrected myself. “Just go.”
Burrowes puts her hand on his back and gestures for him to move.
But he whips away from her touch, scowling. “Fuck you.” He glares at her and then turns to me. “I’m leaving. I’m done here. I’ll be at the Cove after school.”
“What?” I exclaim.
He kisses me on the forehead and shoots Burrowes one last look before walking down the hall and back out the front door. I look around and see that other students are watching the exchange.
Burrowes meets my eyes briefly, but she doesn’t go after him. Turning around, she walks back down the hallway and disappears into the throng of bodies rushing to class.
Misha’s gone, and I’m a little pissed he’d rather leave school and me than deal with her. If he moves back to Thunder Bay, I’ll barely see him. At least until summer break.
What the hell’s going on with him?
And now that I finally slow down enough to think about it, he still hasn’t answered all of my questions.
Why is here? Why did Trey have his watch? And why is he staying at the Cove?
For the rest of the night.
My entire body feels like I was caught in a tornado. My arm muscles are sore, my neck hurts, I have bruises on my hips, and my ass…
It was fun while it was going on last night, but after waking up this morning in pain everywhere, I told him we can’t do that again.
He just retorted that my body wasn’t used to it, and we should do it more.
Man, our fifth-grade teachers would be proud.
I pull into a parking space at school and groan as I gingerly climb out of the Jeep. We were up half the night, and while I’m not at all tired, I’m kind of regretting not staying home and soaking in a bath today. I’m supposed to teach swim tonight, and I forgot the Advil at home.
I reach into the back of the car and pull out my duffel with my swimsuit and change of clothes. After we woke up early this morning, Misha drove me back to school to collect my Jeep, and then he went to the Cove to pack up his stuff while I went home to shower and clean up.
I’m not sure if he’s going to be in school today, but then I feel hands come around my waist and I break out in a shiver as a whisper hits my ear from behind.
“Are you sore?” he teases.
I arch an eyebrow and turn around, seeing him smirk down at me. “Are you kidding?”
“It was fun, though.”
I can’t hold back the smile as my cheeks warm. Yeah, it was.
We walk into the school and head for my locker, and I notice he’s sticking by my side.
“I’m fine, you know,” I tell him. Yesterday—Trey, Lyla, and the lunchroom—feels like ages ago. I’m not scared.
“I know.”
“Masen,” someone calls.
I turn around to see Ms. Till, the Art teacher, carrying a pink slip. She hands it to him, speaking sweetly. “The principal would like to see you in the office. She wanted me to give you this in first period, but I just spotted you. You may as well go now.”
He takes the slip, and she pats him on the arm, walking away. Misha doesn’t read it, merely crumbles it in his fist and tosses it to the ground.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “If she can’t get a hold of your parents about the fights, she could bring in the police. Do you want to be found out?”
“I think we know how well I stay arrested,” he retorts, a cocky look on his face.
I roll my eyes. Yeah, okay, Rich Boy.
Pulling out my sketch book, I spot the cashmere scarf still hanging in the locker, and something hits me. He gave me a new scarf that first week. With perfume on it.
“Whose scarf did you try to give me that first week?”
His eyes drop, looking somber. “Annie’s.”
Annie’s? His sister?
And then my eyes go wide, and I turn to him, remembering what I’d said. “Oh, my God,” I burst out. “Annie. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”
I cringe at myself. I called her a skank, thinking she was some random girl who’d left her clothes behind in his truck. Shit.
“It’s okay.” He gives a half-smile. “I know you didn’t know.”
Ugh. I feel sick. I’m the worst.
“Well, you couldn’t give it to me anyway,” I scold. “She’d want it back.”
He grows quiet, avoiding my eyes.
I’d totally forgot his sister in all the drama. She’s a junior. Where was she last night? His dad must’ve come home during my nap, because Misha had to lock the door later on so he wouldn’t walk in on us, but Annie was never mentioned.
“Mr. Laurent.”
I turn my head to see Principal Burrowes coming down the hallway. Students move around her, everyone heading to their first class.
“In my office,” she orders. “Now.”
He turns away from her. “No, thanks.”
I stand frozen, watching. Just go, Misha. She’s not going to let him off the hook, and it’s only going to escalate.
“Now.”
“I’d rather not leave my friend alone when that piece of shit son of yours is roaming the halls,” he snarls. “Aren’t there laws about sexual predators not allowed to be within a certain number of feet from a school?”
Anger mars her face. “If I have to ask again, I’m calling the police.”
“Mi—Masen,” I corrected myself. “Just go.”
Burrowes puts her hand on his back and gestures for him to move.
But he whips away from her touch, scowling. “Fuck you.” He glares at her and then turns to me. “I’m leaving. I’m done here. I’ll be at the Cove after school.”
“What?” I exclaim.
He kisses me on the forehead and shoots Burrowes one last look before walking down the hall and back out the front door. I look around and see that other students are watching the exchange.
Burrowes meets my eyes briefly, but she doesn’t go after him. Turning around, she walks back down the hallway and disappears into the throng of bodies rushing to class.
Misha’s gone, and I’m a little pissed he’d rather leave school and me than deal with her. If he moves back to Thunder Bay, I’ll barely see him. At least until summer break.
What the hell’s going on with him?
And now that I finally slow down enough to think about it, he still hasn’t answered all of my questions.
Why is here? Why did Trey have his watch? And why is he staying at the Cove?
