This Is War, Baby - K Webster Page 0,1
be young but I’m not stupid.
I know, deep down, there’s more than what is on the surface with Gabe.
That he wants me.
Brandon hits a spot that has me jolting upright. So close. So damn close. If he’d go back and spend a little more time there, I might find this elusive orgasm. I lean back and rest on my elbows so I can watch him. I’m beginning to lose faith in his abilities once again when something by the open window catches my eye.
A dark shadow.
Brandon swipes his hot tongue back over my clit and I buck as if I’m a live wire jolting with electricity. More, Brandon. More…
I close my eyes, hoping to leap over that blissful edge. My brain betrays the one before me though as thoughts of another man flood my mind—a man with messy hair and coffee-colored eyes.
A man.
Not a boy like Brandon.
“Oh God,” I whimper and bite my lip, attempting to force images of my sexy boyfriend back to the forefront of my mind. “I feel close.”
Brandon’s tongue goes wild and I squirm against him. I want his tongue to own me. I want him to stick his fingers inside of me and probe where nobody but me has ever been before. I’m ready for so much more than what we’ve had—for the innocence of our relationship to die a quick death.
A creak of the floorboard in my bedroom has me jerking my eyes open. I expect to see Dad—to meet the furious glare of my father. But I don’t.
Instead, it’s something a thousand times more terrifying.
And I nearly come despite the alarm that renders me immobile.
I’m a sick girl.
A tall man, dressed completely in black, donning a ski mask holds a finger to his lips as he sneaks up behind Brandon. Terror seizes me and I’m unable to move a muscle. I want to scream. I want to scramble away. I want to know what the hell is going on. But I can’t do anything but stare.
His dark eyes through the mask stay on mine as he prowls closer. Of course Brandon chooses that exact moment to hit the right spot. Spots darken my vision and I’m on the cusp of something euphoric.
But my dream is threading with a nightmare.
This darkness fits but it is also wrong and dirty. This can’t be real—this can’t be happening.
I’m confused, but the moment he grabs on to my boyfriend’s hair and yanks him away from me, reality splashes me out of my lusty daze. I find my voice and I scream.
Everything seems to slow down and I’m rooted with my butt on the quilt Nana made for me when I was twelve. Brandon attempts to swing at the man but he’s too slow—too young—too innocent.
Crack!
The man’s fist connects with Brandon’s nose and the sickening crunch has me dry heaving.
“Dad!”
Brandon crumples to the floor as blood gushes from his face. I need to help him. No, I need to get away. Fear releases its clutch on me and I scramble on the bed toward the door. I’m close when a powerful arm hooks around my middle and yanks me back.
His hand slaps over my mouth and my naked body heaves in his clutches. I attempt to wriggle from his unyielding grasp but he’s too strong.
“Did you come?” he hisses against my head and frees my mouth.
The room blurs with my tears and I freeze. I know this voice.
“Gabe?”
“It was a yes or no answer, little girl. You have three seconds to answer the fucking question before I slit that pussy’s throat.”
His threat nauseates me and a sob catches in my throat. Where’s Dad?!
“Three.”
My voice. Why won’t it work? Please, God. Help me!
“Two.”
No! No! No!
“One. Times up.” He reaches behind him and then brings around a huge knife out in front of me. A knife like that would kill Brandon.
“N-N-No!”
A throaty grunt vibrates through my back. If I had to guess, I’d say he is pleased by my answer. And by the way his erection presses into my back, I’d say excited too.
“Good answer,” he mutters. “Now, say goodbye to your bedroom and your pussy-ass boyfriend. You’ll never see them again.”
His hand covers my mouth before I have a chance to belt out the scream that is now lodged in my throat. Surely this is some sort of joke. A plan for Dad to make sure I don’t ever try to sneak around with Brandon under his roof.
Yes, that must be it.
All a game.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but this is going