Page 16 of Careless

She’s my best friend’s little sister and that should be the only reason I want to protect her, but it’s not. That reason is far down my list. The first reason is one I can’t even think of. Every time I try to, I end up on a downward spiral because I’m not supposed to feel this way about her. I made a pact with my friends and forced this way of life onto them.

It pisses me the fuck off that all the pain and suffering has come to a head and it’s all for nothing.

* * *

I gripher bare shoulders tight as I pin her in place against the wall, my fingers are sure to leave bruises. I stare down into her big blue eyes, hoping she can understand the thoughts that are running through my head that I can’t give voice to.

“What the fuck are you on?” I growl, but I can tell she’s hardly listening to me.

“Chill out, Rian. I only had a few Jell-O shots. I’m a lightweight. You’re not my dad or brother. Don’t you dare ruin this for me.” She’s not taking me seriously. Instead, she meets the heat in my eyes with her own and it blazes down to my soul. She’s begging me to do something neither of us should be thinking about. “You’re so bossy. Has anyone ever told you that?” her words slur together. Her breath is hot on my face and I know that from this moment on, I will always equate the smell of Jell-O shots with this vision of Sorcha, of how she is dressed in this moment. She’s wearing a tight as fuck silky tank top. The dark blue matches her eyes, but I highly doubt any dude at this house party is looking at her eyes with how much cleavage she’s showing. It takes everything in me not to tug it down and let her tits pop out so I can devour them with my eyes and mouth. She’s wearing a skin tight black leather skirt that is stretched tight across her juicy ass and leaves nothing to the imagination. Then, there’s her shoes. They could totally carry the plot of any porno. They have thin black straps that wind up her long legs. The heels are high and spiky.

Lightning webs across my stomach as her hand delves under my shirt. Her fingers wreak havoc on my senses as she discovers every dip and divot of the muscles spanning my torso.

God, her touch is so electric, and my cock throbs in response.

“I've never seen this side of you. It’s a bit of a turn on, Rian,” she whispers as she licks her lips, nearly seducing the pants right off me.

Nearly.

She wants me to lose control, take her into one of these rooms, and fuck her senseless, but I haven’t had enough to drink to lose control.

“You only flirt with me when you’re plastered,” I throw the accusation at her.

“It’s the only time that I have the courage to. Besides, you like it when I flirt with you. I bet you’d like it even better if I—” She trails her fingers over my belt and flattens her palm over the steel monster in my jeans before squeezing it. I could’ve so easily given in. Let her drop to her knees and suck me right there, but the shame hits hard, and I grab her wrist, prying it off my dick.

“You want me to fuck you? Is that it, kid? You want me to pin you down and fuck your tight cunt until you can’t walk. Are you trying to be my whore for the night?”

Her eyes widen as they stay locked on mine.

“Because that’s all it ever is. I never go back for seconds. I’m a one and done type of guy. But there’s no need for you to beg for my dick. You’re never getting it.” I don’t need to get any closer to see the rejection in her eyes. I intentionally planted it there, but the shame won’t leave me. “I don’t fuck girls that look like you.”

I regret it immediately. Heartbreak and betrayal distort her features as she blinks in shock. Tears begin to form and it only takes a moment for them to fall.

“Because I’m fat? Fuck you, Rian.”

What? No. That’s not what I said at all. How could she think that? The truth is I don’t fuck girls who look like Sorcha O’Reilly. Not curvy girls. Not brunettes. Not girls who dress modestly and wear practically no makeup except to dress up for parties. Not girls who are inexperienced like her.

I don’t do it because I’m not attracted to girls like her. I do it because it would make this need I have for her feel like it’s okay.

“I didn’t say—” my words cut off as she pushes me aside and runs down the hall. Her shoulders are shaking from her sobs like that one sentence completely destroyed her in every way possible.

* * *

I crackopen another beer as I dodge the others and head to my room for some self-enforced isolation. None of them would understand, not even Tiernan. He may know about my stalking and my obsession with Sorcha, but he doesn’t know about the damage I’ve inflicted.

That party was the last time Sorcha ever flirted with me or even looked at me without hurt in her pain. After that, anytime I drove her to a party, she wouldn’t even look at me, much less engage with me in a conversation..

The thing that sticks out most from that night is when I found her all alone on the back porch. She was still sobbing, and it broke my heart that I couldn’t hold her in my arms. Tell her how beautiful she is. How much I want her. I just stood near the door and listened. If I had a soul, that night it would have decayed into rot and ruin.

I chug down the rest of my beer before almost ripping my shirt off. I need to take a long ass shower in an attempt to wash away the images of her crying that night because of what I said. Because of what I am. My door crashes open to reveal an anxious Finn gripping his cell to his ear.

“What the fuck, man?” I snap, scowling at the intrusion.

“Just stay on the phone. We’re coming, okay?” He nearly drops his phone as he tries to dial numbers. His eyes meet mine. They’re frantic and wild. “I need backup.”

“For what?”

His next words have my spine going straight and my heart trying to beat its way out of my rib cage. “My sister.” Those two words have the ability to revolutionize my world. Sorchanevercalls Finn for help, and he’s never looked so freaked out.

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