When I was in high school, there was this trend of parents all trying to act like they were the most progressive parents in town, so much cooler than everyone else. Most of the kids in my class could have just hooked up with anyone they wanted, at home, right under their parents’ noses.*
*With the bedroom door respectfully closed, of course.
A few of Beaverdale’s more progressive mothers even kept their bathroom cabinets stocked with a no-questions-asked supply of condoms. They felt teen sex was inevitable, and they did what they had to, to prevent having to feed, clothe and raise any little mistakes.
Perhaps this parental acceptance was exactly why rebellious kids continued to drive out to Dolphin Falls and have unprotected sex in the back seats of cars rather than parent-sanctified sex in beds, with parent-purchased condoms.
My own personal path was neither of those two, so my heart skipped a little, knowing I was in the Dolphin Falls parking lot, with a cute guy, for the very first time.
We parked at the edge of the lot, where we had a clear view of the falls.
“Is there more?” Dalton asked. “Should we put some clothes on and get out of the car?”
“Nope. That’s pretty much it. People mostly come here to hook up in cars.”
He leaned over to my side of the car and kissed me without warning. With just the touch of his lips on mine, I was under his spell instantly.
“Mercy,” I murmured as he kissed me deeply, his hands slipping up underneath my sweatshirt to lift and palm my br**sts. My ni**les firmed, and all my skin rippled to attention, tighter now and wanting to be touched.
“I’m going to f**k you now.” He pulled the sweatshirt off over my head, and we were both na**d again. “I’m going to f**k you like this.” He reached down roughly between my legs and thrust two fingers inside me. I whimpered and spread my legs wider for him. “Then I’m going to flip you over and f**k you some more.”
I whispered, “Okay.”
He kept up the thrusting with his fingers, pushing me to dizzying heights. “Tell me you want me, need me, and you deserve me,” he said.
“I want you.”
“And?”
I whispered, “I need you. And I deserve you.”
He pulled his hand away quickly. “Now get out of this car. Open the door and step out.”
CHAPTER 20
My voice shaking, I said, “Get out of the car?”
“Yes. And get into the back seat, where I have a little more room to give you a decent f**king.”
Oh, of course. Why did I think he was planning to abandon me there, naked? Apparently, I have some trust issues.
I opened the door and stepped out, then climbed in the back. My shoes didn’t go with my nudity, so I removed them. I still had bits of green leaves all over my skin.
He came around the other side, kicked off his shoes, and started kissing me. I was about to ask about protection when I saw he’d already donned a sheath.
“Spread your legs,” he said.
I lay back in the center of the bench seat, sliding down so my h*ps were at the edge.
“Good girl,” he said, sliding his fingers back inside me.
I moaned and closed my eyes, embarrassed by how quickly he made me wet.
“Now get on your knees,” he said.
Shuffling around, I got on my knees, praying he wouldn’t be turned off by the view from that direction.
He entered in one smooth thrust.
I gasped and got a tighter grip on the back of the seat.
Oh, the angle and the depth, it was exactly what I needed. My anger flared up as he filled me and left me no place to hide.
“You’re the worst!” I moaned.
He grunted, plunging deeper and shaking my whole body. “You don’t mean that.”
I clutched the seat. “You’re a bad influence!”
“I’ll show you a bad influence.”
What happened next was what I would call a Good Rogering. Flesh-slapping, grunting, sweaty grasping, and even (bless his heart) a courteous reach-around.
In the midst of the Rogering, with his fingers on my clit, I came, crying out and biting the back of the leather seat I was hanging onto for dear life.
By the time he finished, with a triumphant moan, my hair was stuck in strands to my face, and I was as damp as when we’d fled the hot spring.
As he withdrew, he gave my ass one hard slap. The crack sound startled me, and my flesh stung.
I turned around quickly, giving him a hurt and confused look. “What was that all about?”
He shook his head, like he was the confused one. “Sort of a high five?”
“You’re kind of a dick sometimes.”
He raised his eyebrows in a bitches-be-crazy-sometimes kind of look—the exact look that actually makes us crazy.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said.
As I stared at his face, an anger simmered inside me. My orgasm had been deep, but also unsettling, as if the tremors and the rough physicality of what we’d just done had shaken something loose in me.
“You’re a lot more like Drake Cheshire than you let on.”
Smirking, he wiped a strand of damp hair from my cheek. “You love it. You f**king love it. You can’t wait to get reamed again.”
I shoved him away from me. “Gross. Get up front and drive me home right now.”
He made a pouty face. “But I’ve got the whole day off.”
I reached past him and grabbed the door handle to pop the door open. The summer breeze freshened the air in the back of the car and brought everything into focus.
I had the strangest out-of-body experience, where I was myself, but also outside of myself, seeing this chubby, na**d girl, sweaty and used, in the back of a car. I didn’t like what I saw when I opened my eyes like that.
“We’ve had our fun,” I said. And there was that word. Fun. Was I having fun? I was uncomfortable and emotional.
“I’ve pushed you too far.” He shook his head, leaning toward the open car door, but not getting out. “I don’t have normal boundaries. It’s all my mother’s fault.”
Sarcastically, I said, “Oh, of course. Blame the mother. Don’t take responsibility for yourself.”
He stepped out of the car and closed the door gently.
My words hung in the air, and I shook my head with my face in my hands. I was doing it again. Pushing someone away. And I was glad that soon it would be over—albeit a little sad it was always so easy like this. Guys never fought for me. I wasn’t the kind of girl they fought to keep. Friday night booty call, yes. Grand romantic gesture, no.