Page 44 of The Sinner (Haven Grace Prep 1)

“Ah-ah.” I tut. “What did I say about talking?”

She rolls her eyes before dropping down. The second I feel her mouth on me, it’s like I’ve died and gone to heaven. How did I ever expect to deny myself of this? I reach up and grip onto the bar above me.

“Fuck, you’re good at that.”

A low hum vibrates her mouth, and I throw my head back as I try to hold in the sounds of pure ecstasy. She pulls my cock out before running her tongue down the underside. Then, she smiles in a way that shows her determination. I don’t get a second to wonder the meaning of it because she’s taking me in again and shoving me all the way into the back of her throat. The second she gags around me, and proceeds to moan because of it, I’m completely spent.

My grip tightens as I explode, releasing myself inside of her lying little mouth and covering her sins with my own. She takes everything I give her and swallows it down before licking her lips. It’s erotic, and sexy, and has me ready to fuck her into oblivion right here—but I can’t.

She stands, pulling my shorts up with her and tucking my softening dick safely inside them. “You ready to go back?”

And just like that, I feel my resolve start to slip. She’s not trying to kiss me, or ask what this means. Maybe Tyson was wrong, and if that’s the case, I’m in even more trouble than I thought.

“You go first. I’ll wait a few minutes.”

Her eyes narrow. “Why?”

“Because. No one can know about this.” I grin as I wipe some cum from the corner of her mouth. “This is just getting rid of some built up sexual frustrations. Call it childhood fantasies, if you must. It won’t last forever, and once it fizzles out, things will go back to how they were.” I take a step back. “And besides, I wouldn’t want Kinsley finding out.”

She glares at me, practically shooting fire from her eyes. “You really are an asshole, you know that?”

“Never claimed to be otherwise, babe.”

Shaking her head, she walks away and back to her team. Maybe it was a dick move, throwing her so-called friend in her face like that, but I don’t want her to confuse this for something it’s not. She needs to remember what we are.

Just like I need to remember what I came here for.

THE RAIN POUNDS ON the roof of the school as the thunder cracks loudly outside. The fact that they even had us come in today is surprising, being as they’re expecting trees to be knocked over and there’s potential for tornados. I’m sitting in second period, the one class I have with just Savannah. No one watching my every move or analyzing the meaning of every glance her way. It’s just the two of us, alone in a stupid graphic design class.

Another bolt of lightning flashes. Judging by how closely the thunder comes after, it couldn’t have been more than a couple miles away. However, that’s not what surprises me.

One of the most vivid memories I have of Savannah from when we were younger is the time she slept over my house during a really bad storm.

I roll over in my bed, trying to drown out the sound of the downpour that’s happening outside. The wind blows harshly against the window, and I wonder how much force it would take for it to break. As another rumble of thunder sounds, I hear it mix with the sound of a muffled scream.

Savannah?

Slipping out of bed, I make my way across the hallway and into the guest room. Savi is curled up under the blanket, shaking uncontrollably. I close the door behind me and turn on the light.

“Sav? What’s wrong?”

She peaks her head out from the comforter. “N-nothing. I’m o-okay.”

Another bang and she screams, immediately going back to her hiding place. I chuckle softly and walk over to the bed, lifting the blanket and slipping under it with her. As I look at her face, I realize she’s been crying. The dried tears mix with the new wet ones leaking out.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were afraid of thunderstorms?”

She sighs, looking away from me. “I didn’t want you to think I’m a baby.”

I place my hand under her chin and lift it until our eyes meet. “I would never think that. Now, come here.” Putting my arms out, she willingly cuddles into me. “And besides, I’m just as bad with spiders.”

A giggle leaves her mouth. “You’re worse.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! The last time you saw one in the treehouse, you screamed so loud I heard it from my room.”

---