I stared at her for some time, breathing in and out as I debated her question. Then I dropped down on the bed and rested my head on the same pillow as hers. Her hand sought me out a second later. They wrapped around my palm, fingers linked, her cool skin against my warmth. I felt the tremors in her as she clutched it tightly. I clutched back because it was Elise and I couldn’t fight this if I tried.
“Thank you for being understanding,” she told me, sniffing again. “I was so scared you’d be disappointed in me.”
I looked at her and it burned me to see more tears falling down her cheeks. I moved closer and with my other hand I swiped my thumb across her wet skin. That made her eyes open, and she stared at me, her eyes cloudy and tired.
“You’re not a disappointment,” I told her. “You’re a good person, El.”
“You’re the best person,” she replied. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know how clueless I’d have been without you. You make things so much better, Aston. The world turns when you’re around.”
I smiled softly. “I stole your thunder six years ago.”
She smiled back. “You didn’t. You brought lightning.”
“You’re thunder and I’m lightning?”
That smiled broadened and my chest stretched at the sight of it. “We make the perfect storm, don’t you think?”
I nodded once. I was still touching her face. My hand cupped her cheek and my thumb rubbed beneath her eye at the tears that had fallen. My breathing went shallow as I wondered what I’d have done in this situation if we weren’t Aston and Elise.
I’d have kissed her. Ravaged her. I’d have touched her if she allowed it and undressed her with my teeth.
I removed my hand on a defeated sigh and looked away from her. I was twisted inside, afraid of the way my skin ignited with the need to touch her. It took an awful long time for the moment to pass, for her breaths to even out. When sleep came and she was out, it was a victory for me. I survived and kept our family intact.
I returned to my room, and then I sat at my desk, turned the lamp on and opened a textbook. Elise’s body had turned me on, and I didn’t want to give in. I needed a distraction – I needed numbers.
“What is the wave speed for the transverse traveling wave on this string?” I mumbled aloud, reading the question over and over again before I started a diagram.
Pink, wet underwear.
Her teeth biting into her lip.
That fucking back.
Drops between her breasts.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, my pencil snapped in two and I threw it across the room, panting out loud. I ran my hand through my hair and then pressed my fingers into my eyes, rubbing at them.
“He touched her,” I whispered, my body trembling. “He fucking touched her.”
She said no, and he touched her.
He touched what was mine.
That dirty little fuck with his dirty fucking hands.
I growled deep in my throat as another wave of rage ran through me.
I was going to fuck him up.
6
Aston
Revenge required patience.
Impulsive actions led to discovery and consequences. If I’d followed through with my rage, Deck would have eaten the pavement Monday morning when I saw him step out of his Volvo. I’d have made him swallow his teeth as I smashed his face into the sidewalk.
But I didn’t.
Revenge required careful planning.
I learned how easy it was to study a person, and what surprised me the most was how much you could learn from them when you watched them live their lives. All their habits, routines, and behaviour among all their friends were brought to light, and it was very informative.
Deck was a fucking pansy. A wanna-be jock who’d tried for two years to land a spot on the basketball team and didn’t make the cut time and time again. He was a sore loser that hid behind his expensive car and big house, all owned by fake-titty soccer mommy and bling-bling entrepreneur daddy. Deck was probably born with a silver spoon halfway up his ass.
I hated spoiled little shits like him, because they took what they wanted with this fucked up self-entitlement. I deserve this car I didn’t buy. I deserve that bitch’s mouth around my millionaire dick. I’m a fucking king in my daddy’s mansion, so give it to me because I’m owed it. I deserve it, so gimme, gimme, fucking gimme.
I watched Deck-chair during school. Watched the way his eyes followed asses and breasts and blonde girls, all with a sick smirk on his pasty white face. That attitude of self-entitlement was so thick, I was surprised nobody around him choked on it. But those raping little eyes always ended back on Elise, the hunger evident behind his eyes, along with a bitterness that had him clenching his man-girl hands into fists. He was obsessed with her in his own sick way.