Page 98 of Wicked Dreams

“Remind me of that noise you make,” he murmurs, “and we’ll have a deal.”

Seems like he’s getting more out of it than me. Attendance at a football game—yuck—and a blow job?

And yet…

I want to get back in that house. I want to unravel all the mysteries of what happened and what was left behind.

The most infuriating part is that I don’t remember the key moments. I remember flashes, little pieces that don’t make sense, and my father being arrested at the park. But other than that, there’s nothing coherent.

Being there could settle my memories.

I go to my knees in front of him, and he braces a hand on the locker. The other on the back of my head.

Immediately, he takes control. He doesn’t go easy, and I fight between closing my teeth on him and relaxing my throat so it doesn’t hurt as bad. The first time he pushes past the ring of muscles protecting my throat, he cuts off my breath.

I dig my nails into his thighs, but he only withdraws when my grip loosens. My head swims. As soon as I get air, I inhale a ragged breath. It’s almost enough.

He fucks my face until saliva drips from the corners of my lips and tears roll down my cheeks. I give him the satisfaction—I’m assuming—of gagging around his length.

“Unbutton your shirt,” he grunts.

I don’t question it, releasing his legs to fumble with my uniform shirt. It hangs open, exposing my nude-colored bra. Just when I think he’s going to come in my mouth, he pulls out at the last minute. His hand takes over, pumping once, twice.

He comes on my chest. My throat.

It misses my face and hair, with the majority across my breasts. It’s warmer than I thought it would be.

After the initial shock fades, horror takes over. I look down at myself, then up at Caleb.

He’s grinning like the Devil.

And then the flash of his camera goes off in my face.

Chapter 23

Margo

Islide into the kitchen, where Lenora is making dinner. “Um, is it okay if I go to the football game?”

She glances up at me. “Are you going with Riley?”

The doorbell rings, and I curse under my breath.

“I got it,” Robert calls. A minute later, he says, “Ah, Caleb. Good to see you.”

Lenora raises her eyebrows at me.

I make a face.

Caleb comes into the kitchen behind Robert.

“Found your friend,” Robert says to me. “Were you expecting him?”

“No,” I say, at the same time that Caleb answers, “Yes.”

I glare at him. “He asked if I would go to the game, and I was just asking Lenora…”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bryan.” Caleb steps closer to me. He’s ever the school supporter; his hoodie is the gold-and-black colors of our school, plus the addition of a black shell jacket over it. To me, he says, “It’s a bit chilly, you might want to wear something warmer…”

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