But, mostly, I remember how fucking wet her pussy had been when I had stuck my hand down her pants. I remember hernottelling me to stop. I remember how she cried, but I also remember how she moaned like a porn star.
I remember the blood, too.
I remember the blood from her unused cunt, and I remember the blood from my bites. I remember the blood underneath her fingernails from fighting me. But I also remember the blood from where her nails had dug into my flesh as she came all over my cock.
It was the first time I had ever fucked a girl, and Mystic Anderson has been the only girl I’ve been fucking for the past three years. She was the only girl Icouldfuck because I was addicted to her and the things she let me do to her.
I was also unreasonably in love with the girl.
I mean, seriously unreasonably so.
And now, passing the dining room towards the living room, I could see her standing next to Margot, talking and, apparently, having a good time.
My only problem with that was the good time she seemed to be having involved Dillon Mills, and knowing he wanted to fuck her, that was not a good thing.
Not a good thing at all.
Chapter 7
Mystic~
Iknew the second he entered the room.
I can always feel when he’s near.
I also knew Dillon Mills was standing way too close to me.
The only thing I didn’t know was if it was going to be me or Dillion who was going to suffer for it.
The first time I had ever seen Gage Evans it had felt like being hit with a lightning bolt; shocking and paralyzing.
I had been getting my Calculus book out of my locker when I’d heard a slam of metal. When I had looked over, I’d been blown away by the pure hatred etched all over his gorgeous face. And, make no mistake, Gage Evans was unbelievably gorgeous.
He was over six-foot with dark brown hair and stunning blue eyes. They were framed by lashes so thick, they belonged on a girl. His face was pure masculine cuts and angles and his body was made up of the same. Being an athlete, Gage was rocking the hard, toned body of a god. He oozed confidence and walked like he just didn’t give a damn. And, for the most part, he didn’t.
We had stared at each other long after the bell for class had rung, and I remember feeling like his hate had been holding me captive. It had felt like I needed his permission to break the spell, because that’s what it had felt like.
It had felt like Gage Evans had me under a spell.
He had tortured and tormented me for a year after that first day. He had lurked in the shadows and had stalked me until I had become an emotional spazztastic mess. When he was playing football or hanging out with his friends, his vibe was always easy-going and superficial. He was the life of the party and the coolest guy on campus. It was only when he was looking at me that he’d let the real him shine through his eyes.
Or, maybe, I was the only one who could see it.
No matter. I saw pieces of him no one else saw or noticed, and he definitely saw through me and he had picked up on everything I’d been trying to hide since I was twelve.
While my life had been fairly normal and uneventful, there was one event that shined a light on just how messed up I was. I had gotten my period when I was twelve and Gretchen, my brother’s girlfriend at the time, had been the only girl at our house. Mom and Destiny had gone to Dez’s dance class to talk to her teacher. Gretchen had helped me look through my parents’ bathroom and we had been able to find both tampons and pads. I had opted for using the pads until I could talk to my Mom, but Gretchen hadn’t stopped there with her ‘help’ in getting me through getting my first period.
We had gone back to my room where she had thought it was a good idea to show a twelve-year-old porn. She had convinced me it was okay because I was officially a woman, but no. No twelve-year-old girl should ever be considered a woman. Unfortunately, it had been on my bed, as we watched porn on her phone, that I had realized something might be wrong with me. The videos Gretchen had shown me hadn’t been hardcore and had been relatively basic. I remember thinking how weird and boring it all seemed. I watched her as she had selected various videos, but they had all been the same; gross and stupid to my twelve-year-old mind.
It wasn’t until she had accidently clicked a link that had led us to the more aggressive videos that I knew I must be different. At first, I had been shocked and appalled at what we were seeing, but those feelings eventually had given way to curiosity. I had asked Gretchen to explain what we were seeing, and it was then that she had explained how some women liked rough sex. She had told me it was natural, but it hadn’t felt that way.
It still didn’t feel that way.
There’s rough sex, and then there’s what inspired me, and that went beyond rough. Girls were supposed to dream of romance; candlelight and rose petals. They were supposed to dream of a man who would cherish them. They were supposed to seek out love and adoration.
But I learned early on that I wasn’t attracted to any of those things.
I was attracted to darkness and I had no reason why that was. I couldn’t come up with a single reason why Gage Evan’s hatred turned me on more than Dillon Mills’ niceness.
