Page 33 of Sorrow

At this point, I’d rather pry his jaw open and spit it back into his mouth than swallow for him, but I guess I need to stop thinking like that. I’ll have to fake it well if this is ever going to work.

Me:Oh, I’ll swallow, baby. I’ll show you my tongue after too so you can make sure I got it all.

Nate:Jesus, Sam. You can’t dirty talk better than me. It’s wrong.

Nate:I just got a chubby at my mom’s house. Is swallowing something you’ve had practice with?

Me:Yep. He taught me how to take it like I need it more than breathing.

Nate:Maybe I’ll have to shake this guy’s hand one day. Haven’t popped that cherry yet though?

I could just fucking lie. I could. But is letting someone as vapid as Nate have my virginity any better than letting someone like Hayes? I don’t think it makes a difference, and the better prepared I am for Nate, the better off I’ll be.

Me:Not yet. Soon, though. I promise.

Nate:Alright. Hit me up after. Blood makes me squeamish.

Fucking pussy.

Rolling my eyes, I send him back a thumbs up emoji and call it a day.

I give it six months once we get out of here before I leave him behind and go off on my own, which means in about a year, I’ll be free for the first time in my life.

I can’t fucking wait.

15

I’m almost irrationally nervous when Boo shuts his door to go to bed and I’m left alone with Hayes. Why my overly-protective brother agreed to this, I’ll never know — but looking into Hayes’ deep brown eyes almost makes me wish he hadn’t.

The man looks hungry.

He’s scanning me like he’s never seen me before, gaze lingering on the exposed skin between the hem of my shirt and my pajama shorts, and then he jerks his chin toward his room without a word.

Romantic.

I really shouldn’t be surprised.

With my heart where my stomach should be and my stomach somewhere lower, I carefully walk past him, praying I don’t trip.

There’s no way he’ll fuck me with my brother in the next room, so why are my fingers trembling as I grab the door handle?

And why does it get worse when I hear him getting closer? I feel every step he takes until he’s locking us both inside the room. “Did you use my body wash?”

“Maybe,” I deflect. “Did you use mine?”

The left side of his lips twitches like he almost smiled. “Maybe.” One step closer. Two. “Come here.”

He beckons me closer with the same two fingers that have been inside me, drawing my attention as my feet seem to move on their own.

Whatever he’s about to do to me, at least I’ll get paid for it.

I don’t stop until I’m so close to him, my breasts brush his shirt. “Yes?”

His hand finds my jaw as he leans in, inhaling just under my ear in a way that has a shiver working its way up my spine. “I’m going to need you to stay quiet, Hurricane.”

Fuck. Oh, fuck. My hands ball into fists at my sides as I will myself not to make a sound. If he wants me to be quiet, it can only mean one thing.

He’s absolutely going to fuck me.

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