A Very Dirty Wedding(40)

It's like my brain can't process this information. He's flipped some kind of switch in my body, turning me into the biggest stereotype ever: the uptight, virginal girl who loses the big V and becomes a sex-crazed maniac overnight.

I hate being a cliché. I tell myself that I'm not.

For one thing, it's not an overnight transformation. It's been a month, so I guess that's something.

A month of thinking constantly about him and his magic cock.

A month of thinking what it was like that night with him.

So now I'm one of those girls. One of the girls that Caulter has screwed. And now I'm basically the female version of Caulter, completely preoccupied with sex. Except that I’m fixated on just getting into his pants.

I’m standing on the ladder in the library. It sounds pretentious, a library in our lake house, I know.

But the library is my place. My father works in his office and hates this space. So it's mine. It's white and airy, this small room in a corner of the house with one wall that’s floor to ceiling bookshelves and one of those ladders that roll along the length of the wall. It even has a reading nook.

I run my fingers along the spine of the books, not looking for anything in particular. I’m really just looking for a distraction from Caulter. I don’t know where he is right now, but I know where he was this morning. This morning he was sneaking into the shower with me, pressing my back up against the marble tile while he thrust inside me. I can still feel the aching between my legs, the absence of him.

The last three weeks we've been sneaking around the house like we're having an affair, Caulter groping me as I pass him in the hallway or sneaking into my room through the door that opens onto our shared balcony.

I don’t know what Rose was thinking, putting our rooms next to each other. I’d suspect her of planning something like this, except I know she doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body. And you’d have to be malicious to want something to happen between me and Caulter. I mean, I fuck him, but he is the single most irritating person I've ever met in my life.

My father and Ella are flying back and forth, spending most of their time in DC. We have the house to ourselves except for Rose, who's here during the day. I'm worried she's catching on, but Caulter insists she's not. He turns on the charm when she's around, flirting with her and complimenting her cooking, wrapping her around his finger the way Caulter does with all women.

I have to reluctantly admit I can see the appeal. Caulter can almost be charming when he wants to be.

“Hey, sugar-tits.” He speaks softly, and I start, looking down to see him with that stupid smirk on his face. Yeah, Caulter is real charming, for sure.

“You almost gave me a heart attack.” I step down the ladder, but his hand is on my leg before I reach the bottom, sliding up underneath my skirt.

“I’ve decided something,” he says, cupping my ass with his palm.

My breath hitches in my throat, the way it always does when he touches me, and I grip the side of the ladder with one hand and try to slap his hand away with the other. “Stop touching me.”

“Why?” he asks, ignoring my directive. He pauses when he reaches the top of my ass and realizes there’s nothing there - no top part of a thong strap. Behind me, he squats down and peers up my skirt. “No panties.”

“You know why I'm telling you to stop,” I say. “My father and Ella got in last night, and they're around here somewhere. And the fact that I'm not wearing panties means nothing.” The lie is pathetic and feeble. I got dressed thinking about Caulter. No panties was with Caulter in mind.

Caulter’s hand is on my back, preventing me from getting down off the ladder. He slides his fingers between my legs, pressing against my entrance. “You’re full of shit, Princess,” he says. “Your father and Ella left to go out somewhere, so we're all alone. And you forgot your panties just for me.”

“Not true,” I whisper, but I arch my ass back, pushing my pussy against his fingers as he slips them inside. His thumb teases my asshole, sending shivers of arousal racing through my body. “We shouldn’t do this...not here.” Or at all, I tell myself. I have to stop doing this with him.

He responds by sliding his fingers further into my dripping pussy. “I’ve decided that from now on, you wear dresses. No panties. Skirts only.”

I laugh, but it turns into a moan as he reaches around with his other hand to stroke my clit. “Where the fuck do you think you get off, telling me what to do?”

“We've been through this before. I own this.”

“You’re crazy.” I can’t think clearly, distracted by what he’s doing to my body. Until a nose in the hallway startles me. “Shit. Stop.”