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Authors: Alison G. Bailey

Tags: #Contemporary

Past Imperfect (7 page)

BOOK: Past Imperfect
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I nibbled, sucked, and licked my way down her body. All of a sudden, I felt her tense up. “Maybe we should stop. I mean you’re… um… we’re not alone,” she said, her voice raspy and sexy as hell.

“It’s okay. No one will bother us.” I felt a shiver run through her body as I licked my way down to her hips.

Sitting between her legs, resting back on my heels, I grabbed the waistband of her jeans and slid them off. I bent down and kissed her inner thigh as my hands slid over the smooth skin of her legs. I nuzzled and kissed between her legs. She was already so wet I didn’t need to do anything else to get her ready, but I had to taste her real quick. I slipped her panties to one side and plunged my tongue into her as far as I could.

“Oh god!” she moaned.

Between where my tongue was and her moans I almost came right then. “Does my tongue feel good inside you, Beautiful?”

“Incredible.”

My fingers hooked the sides of her panties and I slid them off just before my tongue performed one continuous lick all the way up her body, and into her mouth. I wasn’t going to be able to hold off any longer. One, because my dick was so hard it was about to tear through my jeans, and two, the guys were probably already downstairs.

The next several minutes were a blur and before I knew it we were done. All I could think about was how fantastic it felt from the first kiss to being inside her. I’ve been with a handful of girls and it’s never felt like this. I mean, it always felt good, but as soon as it was over I was ready to go. With Amanda I wanted to stay. I looked into her eyes quickly and gave her a slight smile before sliding out of her. I removed the condom, tossing it in the trash, just before a noise came from the hallway.

“You locked the door, didn’t you?” Amanda asked.

“I’m pretty sure I did.” I threw on my jeans and slipped my shirt on as I walked to the door. I wasn’t going to let them come in. They knew she was up here and I’m sure they heard us, so no need to see her for proof. Placing my hand on the doorknob, I turn it with every intention of stepping out into the hall and getting rid of the guys when asshole Jeremy came busting through, pushing me out of the way.

“Shit! I don’t believe it. You won again,” Jeremy said.

Go along, Brad. Show her what a low-life you are. She’ll never be yours. You need her to hate you before you fall any further.

I laughed along with Spencer. The look in her eyes punched me in the stomach. From that point on I didn’t know what I was saying. I went on autopilot until I left the room.

I was sitting in the kitchen staring at nothing, trying to get the image of Amanda out of my head while Spencer continuously gave Jeremy a hard time about losing the bet. I caught a glimpse of her when she came downstairs. I knew I could never take back or apologize for what I had just done to her, but I knew I could give her some peace of mind. I walked into the living room as she was gathering her things.

“I don’t kiss and tell, so you don’t need to worry. Stewart won’t find out.”

She hugged her backpack to her chest and without turning around, left. I stood frozen and numb. I knew she wasn’t mine and never would be, but I could have pretended a little longer, maybe. No, I had to get out now before I fell completely, so I stood there and watched the best thing that had ever been in my life walk out the door.

We were at the first big senior party of the year. Sylvie had gone off to hook up with someone and I was sitting here on the sofa with Stephen, watching as he got the bong ready for me to take a hit. He was the biggest pothead at our school. Although it was rare, I did use it on occasion. Today was the fifth anniversary of my mom killing herself. You would think after all this time this day would get easier. I remember after her funeral people kept telling me and my dad, time would heal our hearts. Bullshit. It all seems like just yesterday to me. At night I can still see her lying in her bed, with the odor of rusty metal overwhelming my sense of smell, reminding me of all the blood. So, on occasions such as her anniversary, I do what’s needed to forget for just a little while. A tap on my arm brought me back to the present.

“Hey, Mabry, did you hear me?” Stephen asked.

“No. Sorry.”

“You’ve taken hits off a bong before, right?”

“Actually no. I’ve just smoked joints.”

“Well, it’s pretty easy. I’ll hold it for you. All you have to do is wrap your lips around it and inhale. Try to hold it in your lungs for as long as you can,” he instructed.

Facing each other on the sofa, I did as Stephen said. I inhaled deeply and held it for as long as I could stand. I started to feel a slight tingling all over my body and the edginess that my nerves usually had started to subside.

“Wow! You are really good at that. You held it in like a pro, didn’t even cough.” I smiled lazily at Stephen’s compliment.

A half hour later he and I were still sitting in our spots, but had put the pot to one side and were making out. His hands couldn’t make up their mind where to go, they were all over me. I was pretty buzzed and sleepy, so I didn’t object and let him do what he wanted.

“Mabry you are so fucking hot,” he mumbled against my neck. “The way you wrapped those gorgeous lips around that bong… I bet they’d look just as good around my dick. Come on, let’s go.” He stood pulling me up and leading me to one of the bedrooms toward the back of the house.

Once we got in the room he locked the door and started to unzip his jeans. My head was in such a haze I didn’t comprehend what he was up to.

“What are you doing, Stephen?” I asked, confused.

“You’re gonna give me a blowjob.”

I thought he was joking, so I giggled. “No I’m not.”

“Um… yeah you are.”

“No, I’m not,” I said, defiantly.

“Come on, Mabry, you’re no virgin. Besides, you owe me.”

“True, I’m not a virgin, but I’ve never done that… I don’t want that in my mouth,” I said, pointing at his crotch as I scrunched up my face in disgust. “And exactly what do I owe you for?”

“I gave you a lot of my pot.” He was standing against the door with his jeans undone and resting low on his hips. I could see how excited he was already.

“I don’t care. I’m not doing it. Now let me go.” I took a step toward the door.

“Isn’t today the day your mom killed herself and didn’t you have something to do with it?” he asked looking straight into my eyes.

“I found her,” I whispered, my tone flat.

“I’d be happy to share the rest of my stash to help you get through the night if you do me this one little favor. I don’t want to have sex with you. I just want to watch you suck me off. I promise, I won’t come in your mouth.”

My buzz was quickly fading and five-year-old memories were flooding back in. I just wanted and needed some relief, especially today of all days.

I was sitting on the bathroom floor at Sylvie’s. She was already passed out on her bed. Since we knew we’d be out late at the party I was staying the night at her house. Not that it made a difference to my dad what I did. Nowadays, we barely spoke to each other. Basically, we mumbled to each other while passing first thing in the mornings and again at night. That is if we even saw each other. I can’t believe what I did just a little over an hour ago. I had given up my V card the summer between my sophomore and junior year, but I had never given a guy a blowjob, and to think I did it because I wanted more of his weed.

God, does that make me a pot whore?

I just needed something to take the ache in my heart away for a little while. I missed my mom and dad so much, there were times when I couldn’t bear the loneliness. I had to have something to take the pain away and fill the emptiness.

I started self-harming the day my mom died. I ran out of the house and kept moving until I was so exhausted that I collapsed. I had managed to get to a playground several blocks away from my house. I sat and waited for my dad to come get me and wrap me in his arms, letting me know things would be okay, but he never did. When I got back home and walked into the house, I saw the bloody footprints my sneakers had made still soaked into the carpet. My dad was sitting at the kitchen table looking straight ahead. He didn’t make any move to come comfort me. He didn’t even ask me where I had been.

He turned his lifeless eyes toward me and said, “She’s dead, Mabry. She’s not coming back.”

I ran to my room, tears streaming down my face, and slammed the door. I leaned back against it and slid to the floor. As I sat there, I wondered why my mom left me and why my dad never found me. They said they loved me. I had so many thoughts and emotions running through me that it was hard to distinguish one from another. My muscles became tense and my breathing got faster and deeper. I felt heat and adrenaline take over my body. My fingernails dug into my palms as I reared back and pounded my head against the door once, twice, and then a third time. I lost count after that. The jolt I got whenever the back of my head connected with the hard surface unleashed the natural endorphins and gave me relief from the emotional pain that was consuming me. There was no physical pain, just a sense of being calm.

I was trying to apply as much force as possible while being as quiet as I could be. I banged my head against the edge of the bathroom counter, trying to calm the rage I felt for what I had done tonight. No one knew I self-harmed, not even Sylvie, and she was my best friend. The great thing about head banging was that you could hide any bruises, lumps, or bumps very easily.

After feeling sufficiently dazed, I stumbled back into Sylvie’s room, crawled into the spare bed, and wondered how much longer I could do this before causing permanent damage.

Today is day one of
Operation Relentless.
I’ve given Mabry a week to de-freak from my “I love you” statement
.
If she thought I’d be so pissed at her for going out with Sir Douche that I’d move onto someone else, well, then she seriously underestimates me. I will never give up on Mabry. I’ve always been alone and lonely. I had no idea just how lonely until she came into my life. Even though we agreed to keep things casual, I knew the first time I saw her that there was a connection. Since meeting Mabry, I’ve feel like a whole person and I sure as shit am not giving that up just because Sir Douche and her went out to dinner. He probably took her to one of those fucking trendy eateries with artisanal crap on the menu. He’s such a pretentious, fucking, son-of-a-bitch, cock-sucking, douche bag hipster.

It’s early Sunday morning and I’m sitting on the steps outside her place waiting for her to come down for her morning run. I’m making sure my Nikes are tied tight when the front door opens and she steps out. She’s wearing hot pink really short shorts, a white sports bra, and pink and white running shoes. Her hair is in a high ponytail, sunglasses, and ear buds in place. She bounces down the steps, focusing on her iPhone without noticing me sitting there. She stops several feet ahead of me and stretches. She does a couple of lunges and then bends over, stretching the backs of her legs.

Fuck me.

I walk up behind her before she straightens up. “Mornin’, Sweetness,” I say with a huge grin on my face.

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