for half a second before I pull back and slam the door.
Walking around the car, I climb into the driver’s seat and grab the key from the center console. I start the vehicle, and the engine roars to life. Strangling the steering wheel, I throw the bitch into reverse and pull out of the parking spot. Tires spin and gravel flies as I shift to drive and rip out of the parking lot.
Glancing over at her, I see her fear-stricken face. Her hands are in her lap, where she is nervously playing with the zipper on her jacket. I wish she would calm the hell down. She has nothing to be scared of, at least not while I’m driving.
I’m not even sure why I give a fuck about her? She’s nothing but a means to an end, really. Revenge and nothing else. Yet, I saved her life the other day and had this intense need to protect her tonight. I don’t understand why I’m feeling this way, and it’s annoying as fuck. I want to hate Kennedy. Need to hate her. Wanting or feeling anything else is a betrayal to my sister.
Halfway to my apartment, Kennedy speaks.
“Where are we going?”
“My place,” I say through clenched teeth.
“What happens when we get there?” she asks, her voice meek.
“What do you think happens?” I shoot back.
“I… I don’t know.”
She doesn’t know. Ha. What a fucking liar.
I don’t reply, and instead, wait to say anything till we pull into the parking lot of my complex. Finding a spot, I put the car in park and kill the engine.
“You’re coming inside with me,” I tell her. She’s coming inside willingly, or I’m forcing her. That’s the only choice she gets in the matter.
“Why?” she asks as if she doesn’t already know.
Leaning across the console, I inhale her sweet scent. She smells like flowers and fear, and fuck my cock is hard already.
“You know why,” I say before forcing myself out of the vehicle.
Kennedy takes a minute to get herself together but climbs out as well, walking around the car to meet me. It’s time for me to settle the score. It’s time for Kennedy to pay the piper.
10
Kennedy
As I step into his apartment, all I can think of is what he said in the car.
You know why.
Yes, I know why he wants me to come in, but how am I going to get it into his head that it’s not happening? I’m not giving him a blow job. I can’t. I’ll do anything else, but not that.
Walking closely behind me, Jackson closes the door once we’re both inside. His spacious living room suddenly seems smaller, like the walls are slowly moving toward us. The space is surprisingly clean for a college student.
“I’m gonna take a shower, and when I come back, you’ll be on your knees ready to suck me off–”
“No! I won’t. Either we have sex, or I’m walking home.” I shock myself saying the words out loud, but even more surprising is that I’m not scared. I’m not scared of sex with Jackson. I’d rather do that than anything else.
I’ve never actually done it, but when I was younger, I thought about him being my first. I imagined him taking my virginity, even touching myself at the thought of it. So, I’m definitely not scared of sex, I’m more worried about him turning me down.
When he doesn’t answer right away, I look back at him over my shoulder. I’m not really sure what I expected to find when I looked at him, but the shocked expression on his face is new. I guess he didn’t expect me to say that either.
“You want me to fuck you?” he questions in disbelief.
The tone of his voice changes. It’s lower, almost breathless, and it has some weird effect on me. I feel hot, like the temperature in the room has suddenly risen by ten degrees. There’s a tingling in my belly, and a heat creeps in that I’ve never felt before as I feel Jackson take a step closer. His scent surrounds me, and I feel a calmness wash over me. I can breathe, feel… the weight on my chest isn’t so heavy right now.
“I asked you a question, bug. Is that what you want? Do you want me to fuck you?” he repeats, and all I can do is nod because the apple-sized knot in my throat won’t let a single word pass. Before I can change my mind and tell him no, he is