Shhh... Gianna's Side (6 page)

He pulled his lips into his mouth
, contemplating what I was saying, never letting up on tapping the side of the desk.

“
Miss Edwards.” He cleared his throat again. “What exactly do you have in mind? I mean, what can I help you with?”

“Everything and anything
,” I immediately suggested.

He smiled
. “How about you give me a few more specifics than that.”

I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth
. “I’m having trouble understanding Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet. I mean, I know they had a forbidden love that was taboo, given the circumstances, but isn’t love supposed to prevail? Doesn’t every fairytale tell us that?"

“
Fairytales are just that, Miss Edwards…they’re tales, not reality,” he explained.

“So what you are saying is that love doesn’t exist…it doesn’t
conquer all?”

He
raised his hand and grabbed the back of his neck. “No, I’m not saying that at all. Romeo and Juliet is a love story about two different people who aren’t allowed to be together.”

“But that doesn’t stop them from being with each other. It encourages them, even if it has to happen behind closed doors. What do you think about that? Do you think it
’s wrong if you want to be with someone you aren’t supposed to?”

My question intrigued him as much as it enticed him.
His eyes screamed lust from across the distance between us. He licked his lips and I couldn’t help but gawk. My breathing hitched and my chest heaved, his eyes went from my face to the cleavage of my cheerleading top.

“They loved each other. They were soul mates
,” he asserted.

“Does that make it okay? Do you believe in love at first sight?” I paused. “I do.”

He massaged the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension that I’m sure was forming there.

“I…I mean-I…” he hesitated. “I do.”

I smiled wide and my eyes gleamed with joy, I was radiating.

“Good to know.” I jumped off the desk
. “When can you start helping me?”

“
Miss Edwards, I believe it would be better if I found a classmate who could tutor you.”

I shook my head no
. “I don’t need another student to help me, Mack helps me enough and I still don’t understand. I need your expertise, Mr. Nichols. Don’t you want to show me how to do it?” I teased.

His eyes widened and he nervously chuckled
. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow, shall we? Let me think about it tonight?” he snapped.

I nodded and
walked toward the door. Before I stepped into the hall, I turned around, hanging onto the side of the door. I caught him staring at my ass and he quickly looked up, pretending like I hadn’t just caught him in the act.

“Mr. Nichols?” I smirked.

He groaned, “Yes.”

“Call me G.”

I felt tingles run through my entire body, and my mouth had a metallic taste to it. Suddenly, I gasped and realized where I was. I was with Nick. Nick from the bar. The same Nick that looked and sounded just like Mr. Nichols but I knew it wasn’t him. It was never him and it never would be.

I had fucked all that up.

His four fingers found the inside of my mouth and he pushed them as far as they would go, causing me to gag at the intrusion, fully bringing me back to the present. He did it a few times, each time the gagging became louder and heavier. He pushed them in one last time and rapidly pulled them out with a trail of my spit following behind as he placed it all over my pussy. My eyes watered and I hacked and coughed, but that didn’t stop my body from responding to his touch. The more pressure he applied to my clit the closer I got to release. I felt his hard cock on my leg through his slacks.

“You want to come?”

“Yes…” I shamelessly begged. He slapped my pussy a few more times and that’s all it took for me to shake with release. My come dripped down my inner thighs and all over his fingers, he didn’t stop until every last drop was out of me. My head swirled with aftershocks and he crudely grabbed the back of my neck, pushing me down onto my knees. His fingers raked through my scalp before he grabbed a handful of hair and pulled my head back. I watched him unzip his pants and release his hard, thick cock.

“Look at me. Let me see your eyes.” I did as I was told. I stared into the eyes of the man that reminded me of everything that went wrong in my life.

He coated his dick with
the residue of my arousal that was left on his fingers. It was slick and wet with my juices and I instantly tasted myself as he plunged into the back of my throat with not so much as a warning. I gagged at the sensation; he pulled his dick all the way out and then thrust it back in. He repeated this process a few more times before I was completely at the mercy of anything he wanted to do to me.

I deserved it all and much more. I surrendered my body and mind to what he wanted to do, and I would allow anything.

“Push out your tongue. I want my cock all the way in, don’t fight me,” he groaned and pulled his dick all the way out. I expected him to thrust it back in. I was confused when he plugged my nose with his fingers.

“You breathe when I fucking let you
,” he demanded. “Nod your head like a good girl.” I did.

Once again
, he shoved his cock to the back of my throat, not letting go of my nose. My head hit the back of the couch and I couldn’t move. He didn’t stop until my lips met his groin and he held me there for several long seconds. 

“Look at me. How am I supposed to know when to let you breathe if I can’t see your eyes, G
?” He pulled out and I gasped for air while an uncontrollable amount of drool slid down the side of my mouth. He repeated this process for what felt like hours until he unexpectedly pulled out and pushed me onto my back. The hardwood floor made my landing hurt like a bitch. His mouth found mine and he kissed me with intensity and impatience. I tasted nothing but the scotch on is breath and our come entwined; it was my own special cocktail. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip as he stroked his dick back and forth.

“Play with yourself
,” he insisted in between kissing me.

My fingers went into the opening of my pussy
, pushing them toward my g-spot. He pushed my fingers even deeper and slipped in his middle finger along with mine.

“Are you on the pill?”

“What?” I moaned.

“The pill? I’m clean. Are you?”

“Yeah…” I got tested a few weeks back, and by some miracle from God, I was clean.

“I want to fuck you raw
,” he huskily stated as he removed his finger and wrapped them around my neck again. My eyes widened as he applied much more pressure around my windpipe. At least it felt that way from the angle and him being above me. Once I was fully sedated, his hand assaulted my clit and then my pussy, and my eyes effortlessly rolled to the back of my head as my body arched off the ground.

He clasped harder around my neck each time my inner walls contract
ed around his fingers.

“Don’t come
,” he commanded, making my eyes open wide. “Stroke my cock.”

His hold around my neck tightened when I didn’t move fast enough for his liking. The moment I did
, he released his hold a little.

“Harder
; stroke me harder, G.”

The tighter my hand got around his dick
, the more he let go. He nudged at my opening, teasing me. I removed my hand and he finally pushed in. He growled as he slipped inside me. He perched his upper body on his left hand, not letting up on my throat. He growled and grunted the entire time he fucked me. The closer my inner walls wrapped around his shaft, the tighter his hold around my neck became.

“Ahhh…” I breathed out
, trying to catch air.

He loosened his hold
. “Breathe.” I did. “Don’t close your eyes; keep your head level with mine.” Again, he tightened his hold, making me lose air.

He held it there for a few seconds and then he let go
. “Ahhh…” I gasped again, trying to take in as much air as possible. He continued this process until I couldn’t take it anymore and came with such force that my entire body shook with spasms. His hold tightened, making it almost impossible to catch my breath, with an intensity that I had never experienced before. Seconds later, he thrust deep within my core and my pussy milked his cock of every drop.

He lay on top of me, both of us trying to catch our breaths.

“You’re a good girl,” he praised.

I turned my head and shifted my gaze to his eyes.

I saw Mr. Nichols and smiled.

Even though I kne
w it wasn’t possible to have spent the last few hours with Mr. Nichols, in my head that’s who fucked me.

I woke the next morning in my own bed. I had no recollection of how I had even gotten home. But I didn’t really care. I just lay there, thinking about Mr. Nichols. I didn’t think about Nick. It was Mr. Nichols that ran through my head as I touched my tender neck, and felt the delightful soreness between my legs.

He’d been in prison for seven years. It has been seven years since I sat in the courtroom and heard gavel slam down on the podium before hearing the word, “Guilty.” I could still hear the crowd outside the courtroom making an uproar, news cameras everywhere, microphones in my face, and being shoved all over the place. McKenzie and I just held each other as tightly as we could while our parents shielded us from the mayhem of the press. It was a nightmare; the whole thing was a horrific experience that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. We could barely see a foot in front of us from the sea of people.

Mack and I cried the entire way home as we sat in the limo. Her sobs torment
ed my dreams for seven years. I could visualize everything that transpired in the course of three months. Our days consisted of the courtroom, debriefings, mediations, taking the stand, and mindless hours of interrogation from both sides. My wardrobe consisted of nothing but black, so did Mack’s. We didn’t plan it, it just happened. We burned all the clothes once the trial was over. It didn’t make any of the turmoil go away; that only intensified as time went on.

It had
been seven years since my heart stopped beating. I stopped living. The irony of it all was that I didn’t start living until I met him. I lived my “true” life for seven months.

It was beautif
ul, it was chaotic, it was crazy…it was us.

It was love.

He was up for parole and I didn’t know how I felt about it. I hadn’t felt anything for years, so I didn’t think I was capable of emotion anymore. I had turned cold, a shield, a stone…I was nothing. There was no depth to me, just a hollow existence. I was a shell of a person who walked, talked, and moved about like a zombie. I didn’t care about anything or anyone, especially not myself.

I had to get out of bed. I needed a drink. I needed to stop thinking about that day.

It rang five times before it ever went to voicemail; I know because I counted. I hadn’t spoken to Mack in seven years. In my autopilot state of mind, I didn’t realize I was calling her until I heard her voice.

“Hello, you’ve reached McKenzie Perry with York Fancy. Sorry I missed your call. Please leave your name and number and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you
, and may your day be painted with images of York Fancy.”

She sounded the same but different, if that
made any sense at all. It’s amazing how life could change overnight. You go to bed one person–an image of yourself that you have had your entire life–and then in a split second, you wake up somebody you don’t know. Somebody you don’t want to know. Someone you don’t recognize. You can’t even look in the mirror because you have no idea who’s looking back at you. The reflection is someone with cold eyes and no soul.

I gave that away a long time ago—voluntarily.

After the trial, Mack and I started slipping apart. The connection that held us together slowly became altered and transformed into something different. We were no longer best friends–sisters–we were on two opposite ends of the spectrum. We didn’t laugh, we didn’t smile, and we didn’t share things any longer. Our friendship took a drastic turn, like everything else did. It was a landslide of one thing after another. We said we were going our separate ways because we were older. We wanted to experience new and different things, and it was the furthest thing from the truth. We reminded each other too much about that day.

The day that changed the lives of more than just two teenage girls.

I didn’t try to live the life I was raised to live–the life Mack and I mapped out. I was supposed to walk away with a fairytale that every teenage girl dreamed of. Jake and I were the perfect couple, always had been. He stood by my side throughout it all, every step of the way. He blamed himself for what happened; he told me that often, and the morbid thing about it was I never told him otherwise. I let him take the blame; I didn’t care enough to not have him carry that burden.

I d
rank too much and took whatever was handed to me at any point in time. I’d go home with whoever would pay attention to me. I had slept with so many different men that I’d lost count. I couldn’t even remember their names. I couldn’t hold a job to save my life, and I barely remembered to pay my bills. I fucked men to feel something other than hatred for myself. I took drugs to think of anything other than wanting to kill myself.

I
drank to forget.

I was
completely and utterly alone. I had no friends–just random people I partied with. If it weren’t for my parents taking care of me at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, I am damn certain I would’ve died. My parents felt sorry for me, for what I went through. They felt responsible. They said they didn’t protect me enough and failed at doing a parent’s job. I used that pity when it was convenient for me–to pay bills, to buy booze, to party, or whenever I needed or wanted some cash. They gave it to me every single time. No questions asked. I couldn’t feel any fucking worse than I already did, so I’d take it, every fucking time.

There
were mornings where I’d wake up and had no idea where the hell I was. I had no recollection of the previous night or whom I was waking up next to. There had been times I would wake up in my car. I could only go a few hours without taking a drink, and that started when I was about twenty-three. It began with cold sweats and nausea. In four years’ time it had gotten to the point where my hands would shake and if I went too long, my skin felt like it was trying to eat itself alive. My vision would get blurry and I experienced drunken hazes where I had little recollection of what was happening or where I was. By the time I’d get a drink, I’d binge and couldn’t stop myself. I ended up in the hospital for alcohol poisoning four times, which led to having my stomach pumped. I had only experienced a seizure one time, and it scared the living shit out of me.

I was
a fucking mess.

I deserve
d it. All the darkness that I created was exactly what I wanted. It was what I craved. There was no light in my life; I said goodbye to that the moment I stepped into the hospital. Gianna Edwards didn’t exist anymore; I was G. She had completely taken over my life in every way, shape, and form. I looked nothing like I did in high school. There were days I forgot to eat, or the alcohol in my system didn’t allow me to. I was tiny…rail thin, even.