Page 81 of Losers, Part I

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“Oh, God…fuck…please…” I knew the price was pain, and the pleasure I’d get in return would be so worth it, but the anticipation of it might kill me.

“Fear turns you on,” he said. “I can feel the way you squeezearound me when you beg. It’s going to happen, Jess.”

“God, Vincent, please don’t. I can’t…I-I can’t—”

He waited until my gasping fell silent. His expression had sobered, and his words were sincere as he said, “Remember your safeword, baby. Don’t forget where you are.”

I nodded. I was getting lost in the fantasy, but that didn’t mean my grasp on reality had left me. I was still grounded, still aware of where my boundaries lay.

“I remember,” I said. “I’m okay.”

Electricity crackled, sparking through my clit and tingling through my nerves. He laughed at my screaming, and that laugh was my breaking point. I squeezed around his cock as I came, desperately crying his name. My head went limp against the hood as I stared at the old beams high above me, utterly dazed. Vincent moaned, fucking me with a new urgency that made his hips jerk erratically.

“Fuck, Jess,” he growled. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this? How badly I’ve wanted to make you scream?” He grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. “Have you fantasized about it? Tell the truth, right fucking now. Tell me if you’ve thought about this happening.”

“Yes!” My voice sounded so broken, thick with pleasure, mindless with pain. “I’ve thought about it…I’ve fantasized…about you…about all of you…”

“Naughty girl, aren’t you?” he snarled. His cock was swelling, twitching as he came closer to his orgasm. “You’re not supposed to do that, are you, baby? You’re not supposed to think about how the dirty freaks get your cunt wet. But you can’t help it, can you?”

Mind and body bent to his will as I shook my head. I couldn’t help thinking about them, wanting them, longing for things I wasn’t supposed to want.

He pressed in deep, baring his teeth with a guttural curse as hecame inside me.

29

Jessica

High School - Senior Year

I didn’t feel joy as they set the crown on my head. It tangled in my hair and scratched on my scalp. The lights were too bright as they focused on me, the excited cheers of my peers deafening me from the mass of shadows beyond the lights. Faceless applause to drown out the snickers and murmurs.

“All right, big smiles!” One of the yearbook staff, I couldn’t remember her name, popped in front of us with her camera at the ready. With Prom King and Queen announced, the music was turned up and pounding again, hammering along with my heart. I turned toward Kyle, laid my hand on his chest and plastered a smile on my face. I made sure to cock my hip at just the right angle and extend my leg forward, white stilettos balancing me precariously on the sleek wood floor of the gymnasium.

“You’d better smile, Kyle,” I muttered through my clenched, smiling teeth. “Don’t fucking ruin these pictures.”

His hand encircled my waist, revolting me. “Always got a fake smile at the ready, don’t you, Jessica?” The words were returned through his own plastic smile. “That’s why no one likes you.You’re fake as fuck.”

Smile. Just smile. The camera flashed. If I was going to have to look at these photos hung proudly on my mother’s wall for the next who-knows-how-many years, I was going to make sure I looked good in them. It didn’t matter who I was standing next to. It had never mattered.

It didn’t matter if everyone hated me. It didn’t matter that right before the announcement, Kyle had let it slip that he wanted to break up again. It didn’t matter that he’d blurted out he was dumping me. Again.

It didn’t matter. God, it didn’t matter. Just smile.

People were cheering for a dance. With every step down from the stage, I fixed that smile a little tighter on my face. I held Kyle’s hand, damp and moist around my own. He was sweating through his tux, his eyes wandering the crowd. Always wandering. It didn’t matter what I looked like, or how I dressed, or what I did in bed. It didn’t matter.

It was never enough.

We danced. The camera flashed.Make it look like you’re having a good time.

But the moment the song stopped, a lull in the music and the crowd’s dwindling attention allowed me to slip away. I hugged the wall near the back of the gym, dipping under streamers and metallic ribbons, running away from the unwanted conversations and hypocritical congratulations.

No one was surprised I’d won. This was how it was supposed to be. This was the world nicely fitting into the same old routine.

The Cheerleading Captain and the Quarterback. How cute. How convenient. What a fucking cliche.

I shoved hard against the first door I found and finally slipped outside.

Standing on the concrete steps behind the gym, I looked out at the overflowing dumpsters. A single light illuminated the stepsand rain poured around me, cold as it mercilessly drenched me. My dress’s layers of pink satin were swiftly soaked, too tight and heavy as it clung to me.


Tags: Harley Laroux Romance