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Someone to Love(6)

By:Addison Moore


“Yeah, really.” She traces the outline of her lips with her finger.

I’d like to do that for her—with my tongue.

“So I guess that means you’re a virgin.” Shit. Did I just go there? Looks like it’s all systems go to make sure Kenny stays the hell away from me. Nothing like a little self-sabotage coupled with a jab at her virginity to make sure she’s safe from my “road show.” Kenny needs some nice kid to sweep her off her feet, not me. I’ve got chains dangling from my bedposts for God’s sake. Nope. There’s not one nice thing about me these days.

“It’s not a death sentence,” she scolds. “Besides, maybe I will take my mother’s unconventional advice. I could hang out with Pennington and see what happens.” She makes a face as if it’s the last thing on the planet she wants to do.

I swallow a laugh. “I’m pretty sure Pennington isn’t the one for you.”

She postures seductively as her hips grind into the seat. “Well, I have to start somewhere if I’m going to become the female version of you, don’t I?” She bites down on the smile waiting to take over as if she’s taunting me.

“Female version of me?” Intriguing concept, but I’m not buying it. I doubt she is either.

“Maybe I should turn things around for myself”—she gives an impish grin—“start taking advantage of all the fresh meat Garrison has to offer. You know, a social experiment.”

“Social experiment?” I hold back a laugh. If I didn’t know better I’d think she read my thesis. Has she read my thesis?

“Yeah, I can document my findings on what it feels like to become a female predator. They do exist, you know. The male species doesn’t own exclusive rights to sexual domination.”

“You want to sexually dominate.” I find this doubtful. Although if she’s hell-bent on diving into a cesspool of STDs, who am I to stop her? In fact, I might even introduce her to the chains a little sooner than anticipated. “And, by all means, I volunteer to do the documentation around here.” I’ll be published by fall.

“I could be the next big player at Garrison.” She says it, stunned by her own admission. “I bet I can give you a run for your money.”

“No you can’t.” I take a quick swig of my soda. No use in placating her with false ideals. A kitten like her would be eaten alive in the most extravagant sexual fashion if left to the rabid bears on campus.

“Well then, I’ll just have to prove you wrong.” Her neck arches in a seductive manner, paper-white and long like a pillar.

She accepts the challenge as if I just issued a dare. I should set her straight, release her from the bondage of ever becoming anything like me, but my mouth takes a U-turn.

“So, I guess you’ll need some pointers.” I start up the car and back out of the lot without giving my conscious a chance to weigh in on the matter.

She leans as the car moves and her chest swells out of her T-shirt, making me hungry for far more than food.

“Where we going?” she whispers, worried by my sudden interests to offer assistance, I’m sure.

“To my place.” I’ll have her running for the nearest convent by the time I’m through with her. “It’s time to get to bed.”





2


Kendall

The Experiment





Bed?

I watch as the moon lies over the water like a lover, the waves lapping the shore with their strange luminescent glow. Cruise weaves us down a deserted black highway with curtains of evergreens erect on either side. He’s driving me to a yet undisclosed location to which he gleefully confessed happens to house his mattress. And, I’m pretty sure after he has his way with me, there’s a good chance he’ll dismember my body.

I can’t believe how stupid I am to get in the car with a stranger. They say never let an abductor take you to a second location—not that I’ve technically been abducted since I willfully entered the vehicle. Although in my defense, plenty of abductees have crawled into the passenger’s side under the pretense of a burger and fries.

We drive out of civilization, just as I suspected, and into a black hole that eventually leads to a sign that reads, Carrington County, then another less prominent sign reading, Elton House, Bed and Breakfast.

“My mom runs the place,” he volunteers as we pull in. “It was passed down from my grandfather.” The muscles in his jaw tighten as he inspects the tall yellow structure. We turn down an offshoot and land in front of a small brick house tucked behind the B&B. “I have an extra room. The bathroom doesn’t have a lock, but I promise, I’ll knock up a storm before barging in—maybe.” He gives a devilish grin before killing the engine. “The room is yours if you want it, for as long as you need it.”