“Corey,” I say, my tone softening. I take a step toward him.
“Fuck you,” he spits out, and I realize pity is the last thing he wants or needs.
Without warning, Corey’s arm reaches out, and he snatches something from my hair.
“What’s this?” Corey taunts, holding the leaf up for them all to see. “A leaf?”
“What are you, homeless?” Shane asks. His tone isn’t quite as mocking as I thought it would be.
“Homeless, worthless… It’s no wonder you work on bikes,” Tyler says.
I glower at him, sick of his constant back and forth.
“She has no choice,” Brett says. “No one would pay for her to spread her legs.”
I’m seeing red. My fingers turn into tight fists, and my arms shake as I march up to his face. “Let’s be honest, shall we?” I ask. “You most likely have to pay for whores because that kiss you gave me way back when had been completely terrible.”
Brett laughs, glancing around at his friends, but then he snatches one of my wrists, yanks me to him so our chests touch, and he kisses me. A real kiss. One with passion and fire. His hand goes to the back of my head, guiding me to tilt my head as he deepens the kiss. Fuck, my knees are turning into a gooey mess, and I'm… I think I'm clinging to him.
But I don't want to be weak, so I give as much as I take, and I'm taking every-fucking-thing that he's giving. I pull back only just enough to bite his lower lip, nipping it, really.
He lets out a growl. His one hand is still behind my head, but the other one reaches down to my skirt. Brett reaches beneath it, his hand resting on my bare ass cheek. Of course I had to be wearing a thong today.
I moan against his lips as his fingers dig into my ass, forcing me to grind my hips against him. Brett can talk as much as shit as he wants, but I fucking turn him on. His cock is so hard, pressing up against me, and I almost want to reach my hand down between us to touch his cock. Through his pants. Not directly.
Maybe directly. I could fuck with him, fuck with his mind, stroke him a few times, and then walk away…
But with how hard he is, it might only take a few strokes for him to come all over my hand.
This kiss is going on far too long. It’s actually multiple kisses, and we’re both fighting to take control, to be the one in the lead. My hands are gripping his back. I really can’t be any closer to him, not unless we strip down.
Why am I kiss him? Why am I trying to get even closer to him?
What the hell am I doing?
The kiss is deep and hot and passionate, yes, but I really shouldn’t be doing this.
I force myself to pull away. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m frightened of him, of me, of absolutely everything.
Dazed and confused, I stumble back a step and then run around to the side of the building, to another entrance, fleeing with the sound of their laugher echoing in my ears.