Page 28 of Nightmare

I huff and place my hands on his shoulders, allowing him to boost me up so I can break into his poor mother’s house. This makes no sense, considering we could just go back to Andie’s, pick up his car and drive to a hotel or something, but I don’t bother arguing with him over it. Maybe he just wants to spend some time in his childhood home after being away for so long. Or maybe he’s just horny and doesn’t want to wait a minute longer.

It’s probably the second one.

I have to step on the white countertop to get in, so I quickly hop down to the floor and grab a towel to clean the mess I made, laughing at the impatient look Atticus is giving me from outside. Taking off my filthy boots, I carry them through the house and meet him at the front door, unlocking it for him and letting him inside. I put my shoes down on the mat, and he watches what I’m doing, kicking his off too before he comes right for me.

It doesn’t sound like anyone’s home, but I don’t think he gives a shit either way. He’d fuck me right here on the floor in the entryway if I asked him to.

He grabs my waist, and our mouths meet in a filthy kiss as he walks us toward the curved staircase. We get up to the first floor, almost tripping as we go, and he takes me along the hall to his bedroom—the same one we had sex in for the first time back in high school. I’ve only ever been with him, and he’s only ever been with me. It’s always been just us, ever since we were old enough to realize we were more than just childhood friends.

“What do you think your mom’s gonna say when she finds out we’re back together?”

“I don’t care,” he answers, nipping at my swollen lip.

“My mom’s gonna lose her shit,” I mutter into his mouth. “And my dad…”

“I don't care.” He says it slower this time, breaking the kiss to look me in the eye. “You’re mine and I’m yours, Vi. Fucking simple. Nothing anyone says or does to us is ever gonna change that. You couldn’t even change it. Our fucking parents don’t stand a chance.”

I nod because he’s right, then I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him down to me. He backs me up into his and Nova’s old bathroom and guides me to the shower, turning the water on before pulling my hoodie over my head. He rids me of his t-shirt next, and I do a double take when I catch my own reflection in the mirror.

“Shit,” I hiss, taking a step closer to get a better look at my naked body.

I knew it was gonna be bad, but I didn’t expect it to be this bad. I’m covered in cuts and bruises—small fingertip-shaped ones on my throat, my hips, my thighs, my ass. My lip is bruised too, and I don’t even wanna count the hickeys on my chest, neck, and jaw.

My fucking jaw.

“Jesus, Atty. Have you seen the state of me?”

“I can’t stop looking,” he murmurs, pulling me back by hand.

“How am I supposed to go to school like this?”

“Take a week off.”

“I’m a pre-law student, you dick,” I bite out, choosing not to disclose the fact that I’ve been ditching class for months now. “I can’t just—”

“Shh,” he whispers, guiding me into the walk-in shower. “Stop complaining when we both know you love it almost as much as I do.”

I grit my teeth and look away, shaking my head with a grin.

This cocky prick.

He strips out of his clothes and steps into the shower with me, walking me forward into the stream of water. It stings a little when it hits the cuts, but only for a few seconds. After the initial burn wears off, the hot water starts to feel amazing on my skin, and so do his hands, rubbing my sore neck and shoulders from behind.

He tips my head back and wets my hair, then grabs the shampoo, washing and rinsing it before he runs the coconut scented conditioner through it. My hair is heavy when it’s soaking wet because it’s so long and thick, so he gathers it all in one hand, holding it up at the back of my head to take the weight off for me. I sigh happily and lean back into his warm body, closing my eyes and turning my face into his chest.

“I missed you so much, Atty.”

“I know you did, baby girl,” he says softly. “I missed you too.”

Pumping some of his shower gel into his free hand—the same one his mom’s been stocking for him here even after we left for college two years ago—he soaps me up and gently washes my breasts, my stomach, and then finally my pussy. I gasp at the feel of his fingers sliding over my lips, his hard dick poking the top of my ass from behind. I push myself back into it, and he growls, tightening his grip on my pussy to keep me still.

“Not yet,” he says, pumping some more shower gel to wash his own body.

He’s a lot rougher with himself, still holding my hair with one hand as he lathers up his cock to get it nice and clean for me. He pulls back a bit to rinse off, and then I’m suddenly pushed up against the black-tiled wall, shivering at how cold it is against my breasts and stomach. His grip on my hair turns painful, and he uses it to keep me right where he wants me, kicking my legs apart before he nudges himself up to my pussy. He pauses for a second, and I go still too, looking back to try to figure out what stopped him.

“I love it when you smell like me.” He tilts my head to the side and presses his nose to the crook of my neck, inhaling me with a groan. “Get up on your tiptoes.”

He pushes in, and my hands slip on the wall without anything to hold on to. Instead of moving right away, he keeps himself buried inside me and just breathes me in.

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