Page 110 of The Naughty List

“Carson, what the hell?” she asks, rubbing her eyes.

“You snuck out,” I say, simmering down now that I see her sleepy eyes.

“You fell asleep. We agreed on one night so I wanted to keep my word. What’s wrong with you?” She throws the blankets back and stands up. She’s still wearing my boxers, but the bra is gone. Now replaced with a white tank top that I can clearly see through.

My anger falls away and quickly changes to something else. Need. “Maybe I want more than one night. Maybe I want two.”

She smiles. “Okay,” she agrees.

“You’re not even going to fight with me?”

She seems taken aback. She always fights with me. Don’t give up now.

“Do you want me to fight with you?’

I nod. “That’s our thing. Me and you, I tell you one thing and you don’t like it and we fight.”

She nods. “Okay, we agreed on one night, Carson. Not two. Don’t get greedy.”

“Greedy? I’m greedy, little Ms. I’ve wanted you since I was seven. Now you got a piece and you’re done?”

She laughs and shakes her head at me. “Shut up, you idiot.” She presses her lips to mine and everything else is gone. I lay her back on the bed and pull the blankets up over both of us. Under the blanket, I push my shorts down her legs and push my basketball shorts over my hips. I’m hard and ready to go, just like every other argument with her. Sliding into her is easy, warm, and welcoming. Finally, connecting as one, I can think straight. I hold her tight against me as I let myself calm down, unmoving in any way. “What are you doing to me?” I whisper, finally pulling out to thrust back in.

I’ve always known right from wrong. I knew what I wanted, what I needed, and what I should avoid. All the answers to those questions are her. She’s right and oh so wrong for me. I wanted her. I needed her. And I should be avoiding her right now, but that’s not going to happen. I’ve had a taste of her and her sweetness is left on my tongue. There’s no way I’m forgetting last night. There’s no way I’m not fighting for more. Where she ends, I begin, and together, we’re one. There’s no going back now and that thought scares the shit out of me because I don’t know how we’ll end up. I’m no longer certain on my future.

I don’t know how, but we manage to pull away from one another. I put my flip-flops and coat back on and leave her house. Neither of us are ready for the day. We both need to get cleaned up and I need to come up with some kind of plan to escape this house for the day. As I’m passing through the living room, her mother lets out a yelp.

“Oh, Carson. I didn’t know you were here,” she says, her hand covering her heart.

I smile. “Sorry, Mrs. B. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just popped by to wake Felicity up. She wasn’t answering my calls and I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“Aww, you’re such a sweet boy,” she says.

I force a smile and wave as I exit the house. A sweet boy? A sweet boy who just fucked your daughter like four times in the last twenty-four hours. Yeah, not so sweet, I think as I make the journey back to my mom’s house.

When I get home, I waste no time in taking a shower and getting dressed. When I walk back into my bedroom, my mom is in there stripping the bed.

I freeze when I see what she’s doing. I clearly would have washed my dirty sex sheets myself.

“I was just going to make the bed until I came in and seen what a wrinkled mess it was. You must be a rough sleeper.”

“Mom, I was just getting ready to do that.”

She waves me off. “It’s no problem, dear. I’m happy to have you home.” She tosses the blankets and pillowcases into a pile on the floor while she strips off the fitted sheet. Then she bends over to pick it all up and comes up with something red. She’s holding it by two fingers.

My face heats up when I realize it’s Felicity’s panties.

“What in the world?” she asks, looking from the scrap of material, to me, and back.

“Oh, uhhh…that’s mine,” I say, reaching out and taking the torn-up material.

“Who’s is that? Carson, are you having people stay over?”

I swallow, unsure of what to say.

“Who’s been here? I’ve only seen Felicity and the two of you have never…” Knowledge washes over her. “Oh, Carson,” she chastises. “Not you and the neighbor girl.”

“What?” I ask.

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