Chapter 7

seven

Ayla

It has beenthe best week of my life.

Ever since Flynt took me to the lake, I’ve been floating through life like an inner tube on a lazy river. My father doesn’t know what to make of my constant smiling, so he just hides even more securely behind his newspaper at the breakfast table every morning. I’ve been wearing turtlenecks to school, because I’m covered in scruff marks and love bites and other reminders of my man. My man. But I covered the ones on my neck in makeup today because I’m feeling…naughty. I’m feeling sexy and I’m sensitive in the oddest places, like the nape of my neck and the backs of my knees. I want to tempt Flynt.

Honestly, he’s tempted by me when I’m in a turtleneck, so maybe there is no need for my short, plaid skirt and the white blouse that barely buttons over my breasts. Today feels special, though. My period is late. It was supposed to arrive yesterday and still hasn’t. Somehow, I’m already positive I’m pregnant. No need for a test.

I feel his life inside of me.

How could I not when he’s put it in me so many times?

Just this week, we’ve been down to the lake six times. Before school, after school and once when Flynt needed me terribly during fourth period. Every time I think about him moaning in the rear bed of his truck with my ankles around his ears, I encounter a rush of wetness. Euphoria. He makes my body feel things I didn’t know were possible and I do the same for him.

We mate like animals.

Flynt tells me the magnitude of attraction isn’t typical. It’s special. It only happens once in a lifetime and to some people, not at all.

I’m going to tell him I love him today.

Right after I seduce him.

I’m going to put him in the best mood possible and then tell him I lied about being on birth control. He will forgive me, right? Yes, I believe that. The way he speaks about us being together forever…he means those things.

What if he doesn’t want a baby right now, though?

We’re only eighteen.

Will he understand the gravitational pull I felt to get pregnant with his baby? Will he understand that I craved having his child inside of me to the point of pain? I barely understand it myself…and it’s too late now to be anything but happy. I want to have Flynt’s baby.

I just hope he wants that, too.

Flynt is waiting for me in the parking lot when I pull into my usual space—and holy moly, he is so incredibly gorgeous. Even more so now that he isn’t dripping with constant tension. Leaned up against the side of his truck in his boots, jeans and wind-tousled hair, he looks well satisfied. He likes the red marks he leaves on my inner thighs, so he hasn’t shaved in a week, giving him a dark, dangerous shadow on his jaw. My pulse is racing out of control before I even put my car in park and step out of the driver’s side.

As soon as Flynt sees me, he pushes off the truck, his dark eyebrows winging toward his hairline. “Ayla,” he chokes out, his gaze devouring me top to bottom. “Get back in the car.”

I was expecting this. “Why?” I ask, casually. “You don’t like my outfit?”

“I like it too much.” He jerks his chin at the students passing by. “So will everyone else.”

I round the front bumper of my car and slide onto the hood, leaving my legs to swing carefree in front of me. “I’m leaving it on. It makes me feel pretty.”

His eyes soften slightly, but not completely. “You’d be pretty in a potato sack, baby. But if you walk through the hallway in that outfit, I’m going to end up murdering somebody.” He reaches me then, groaning as he steps between my thighs. “Goddamn. You wore the panties.”

He has a serious thing for my nude mesh underwear because I was wearing them the first time he saw beneath my skirt. The day at the garage.

“Mmmm.” I nod, tug him closer by the front of his shirt. “Wore them just so you could take them off.”

“Ayla.” Eyes glittering with need, he swoops in and kisses me hard. “You’ve missed too much class this week, thanks to my dick. I can’t keep allowing you to ditch school.” His gaze falls to my breasts and he licks his lips. “I want to be a better boyfriend than that.”

My heart turns over. “You’re the best boyfriend.”

“Am I?” There’s something like guilt in his expression, but it quickly ebbs and I wonder if I imagined it. “I could be better. I could be helping you secure a better future, instead of…”

“Instead of what?”

His mouth presses into a stubborn line. “That outfit doesn’t darken the doorway of this school, Ayla. I mean it.” An idea seems to occur to him. “Stay right here. I have a sweatshirt in the rear cab of my truck…”

Flynt throws a warning look at a group of passing boys, then leaves me briefly to open the truck’s back door and root around. While his back is momentarily turned, I hop off the hood of my car and start heading up the path toward the entrance. A moment later, I hear the truck door slam and a growl of my name. My blood pumps faster as I pick up my pace, smiling flirtatiously at Flynt over my shoulder, beckoning him with a crooked finger.

He catches up with me inside at my locker.

I’m not shocked whatsoever when he spins me around and backs me up against the cold metal door, my back connecting with a thunk, drawing the attention of several surrounding students. I wonder what we look like to everyone else. The quiet, straight-A student and the big, bad loner, making love to each other with our eyes, right there in front of everyone. Is our mutual obsession palpable?

Flynt tilts my chin up and whispers against my mouth. “What game are you playing, little girl?”

“I’m not playing a game,” I retort, subtly rubbing my breasts side to side against his chest. I’m pregnant with this man’s baby. It’s a thrill that electrifies me, makes my heart race and my breath sound pitifully thin. “But if you want to play one…” I whisper, watching his eyes go black. “I know for a fact that there is no one using the AV room this period.”

“It’s too risky.” His stiffness is beginning to prod my stomach. “Come on. I’ll take you down to the lake.”

I make that whiny sound that drives him wild. “I can’t wait that long.”

He swallows a moan. He’s so turned on now that his eyes are growing unfocused, sweat beading on his upper lip. “Ayla, I’m trying to do right by you—”

“I want you in my mouth.”

Every iota of his breath leaves him in a rush. “What?”

“Last night, I dreamed about giving you a blow job. Now I want to do it in real life.”

I’m not lying. I’ve daydreamed about it. Extensively.

How he would taste. How he would instruct me.

I don’t think he realizes that he has lifted me off the floor and pinned me against the locker, his hot, harsh breaths pelting my lips. “There’s just one problem with that, baby. My cock won’t fit in your little mouth. Don’t you think I would have fucked it by now?”

Maybe the skirt was a mistake.

My panties are so soaked by now that the insides of my thighs are beginning to turn moist and there’s nothing to hide my reaction. “It will fit.”

“Jesus, Ayla. I can barely get it in your pussy.” He presses closer, so close that my thighs are perched on his hips. “But maybe…”

“What?” I ask, searching his eyes.

He shakes his head, as if to clear the idea away. But he visibly can’t. It lingers. “You could lick it—” He cuts himself off with a groan. “You could lick it. And…”

“Tell me.”

His mouth moves to my ear. “You could suck on my balls.”

I writhe on his hardness ever so slightly. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

That pronouncement has him searching my eyes. “What’s going on with you? Do you need to talk to me about something?”

Not now.

Not until he’s in that relaxed, affectionate place we always end up in after sex. That’s when I’ll tell him I love him. That’s when I’ll tell him about the baby. “Is it that surprising that I want you?” I lean in and kiss him. A decadent, winding kiss that makes his erection swell. “I always want you.”

The bell rings.

Students groan, locker doors slam and there’s a flurry of activity around us as everyone runs for class. But we don’t move. We just continue to stare into each other’s eyes, at least until a male administrator knocks on one of the neighboring lockers. “All right, love birds. Get to class.” Rap rap rap. “This behavior is totally inappropriate.”

Flynt turns a glare on the man that should probably chill me to the bone, but it only turns me on. “What I do with her is none of your business,” he rasps to the man. “Fuck off.”

I turn my head long enough to watch the administrator go pale and scurry away, but then I’m purely riveted by Flynt. He pries me off the row of lockers and strides down the hall, hooking a right toward the AV room. I rub our sexes together as we walk, my mouth and teeth and tongue racing over his neck. Ohhhh. And then his hands clutch my bare butt and I almost climax. Seriously. I’m so primed for his touch and to touch him in return that by the time we enter the dark AV room and lock the door, I’m frantic to get on my knees.

Watching him unfasten his belt from my kneeling position does something to me. An internal ripple so intense that it makes me gasp. Makes me reach under my skirt and palm myself, grinding my flesh against the heel of my hand.

He sees the change in me and slows down, making a meal out of dragging the leather belt through the denim loops of his jeans. “Why do you like this?” he asks, studying me, expression heated. Hungry. Anticipatory.

“I don’t know.”

“Did your father ever use his belt on you as a kid?”

I’m already shaking my head. “No. No, he never hit me.”

His chest rises and falls. “Thank God.” He folds the belt in half in his hands and cracks the leather together. There’s an answering spasm in my tummy that spreads such a ticklish sensation in its wake, I almost can’t stand it. My fingers are inside my panties now, petting, spreading wetness, bringing myself closer to the edge. “It just…it seems like something a Daddy would do.”

“Yours.”

I nod like an obedient pupil and down comes his zipper.

Flynt has never let me see his shaft. He covers me with his body or turns me around on my hands and knees before I can get a glimpse. He says it will scare me. But I’m so desperate to see it now that I hold my breath, my hands steepled together like a nun in prayer.

He takes it out of his jeans in a white-knuckled fist and drops the ample weight of it, letting it bounce, along with his balls, into view. It’s so stiff, it sticks right out and…oh my God. It’s thick and ruddy and long. So long.

And my name is tattooed on the side.

Both sides.

“Flynt,” I whisper, tears springing to my eyes.

“Well?” He steps forward stroking himself, shadows dancing in his blue eyes. “Does it scare you?”

I take a moment to ponder my answer to the question. Obviously, the tattoos have been there for a while. If they were a recent addition, he’d have been bandaged. Or in recovery mode, unable to have sex. This proves he’s been more than a little committed to me for quite a while. Obsessive is a better word. But…

“It’s beautiful,” I say honestly, scooting forward on my knees. “It only excites me.”

Flynt groans.

I watch breathlessly as a single white drop appears on the smooth slit of his sex and my body begins to hum like an engine, heating, a sound of pure hunger rising in my throat. For Flynt’s part, he looks almost overcome by my eagerness.

“Wrap both of your hands around it slowly. Slowly, baby. I’m trying really hard not to come on your face.”

My panties turn sodden over that imagery.

Is that something he would like?

Would I like it?

I want to find out. I want to find out every single thing about lovemaking with Flynt and I hope we never reach the bottom of the well of possibilities. I want to touch him and explore with him for the rest of my life. Starting now, when I take him in my hands, marveling at the combination of strength of smoothness. Flynt hisses in a breath. And as I begin to stroke him, he gets that look in his eyes. The one that says the sweet boyfriend has checked out and the dominant man has taken his place. I love both of them with all of my heart.

Flynt’s fingers slide into my hair and tighten around the strands just enough to make me gasp. Then he steps forward. Comes so close that I have no choice but to let his thickness slide into my mouth. Salt immediately foams down the back of my throat, Flynt’s fist shaking in my hair, his breath turning to hoarse bursts of air.

I drop one of my hands from around his shaft, using it to pull him closer by the loosened waistband of his jeans—and I suck noisily. My knees squeak on the ground trying to get near to him as possible and I work, work, work him into my mouth in the rhythm I’ve memorized from having him inside of me. I know he likes the pace somewhere between slow and fast and I give him that now. I give it to myself.

“Fuck, baby. A professional without a minute of practice. Just like our first trip to the lake, huh?” On his next pump, he goes slightly deeper, pausing to make sure I’m not choking. I’m not. I’m just struggling to get my lips wide enough. He’s only halfway in and I don’t think I can take another inch without gagging. Nor can I open my mouth wide enough. “You were horny for me as soon as I lifted that skirt. Knew exactly how to make me come. Knew how to take a beating between your legs. Didn’t you, little girl?”

I moan brokenly around his flesh, his dirty speech making me hotter than the surface of the sun. My whines are equal parts turned on and frustrated because I want all of him in my mouth, my throat. I want him to own me. Every inch.

“I know, Ayla. I know you want the whole cock, but it’s not happening. Believe me, I’m already the most satisfied man on the fucking earth. I get to bury this thing in your pussy.” He pushes deep inside my mouth and holds, tilting my head back. “Whenever I want,” he grits. “So you keep that little thing wet, do you understand?”

I nod, finding unimaginable pleasure in being obedient.

It’s something I never expected to find in myself, but Flynt would burn the world down to make me happy, so being dutiful when we make love feels good. And right. Because I know how much time he spends honoring me. Considering me. Serving me.

I’m so desperate to do the same for him in this moment that I find a reserve of courage inside of myself. I take a deep breath, and another, until I reach a state of calm. I relax the muscles of my throat and allow his huge sex to travel deeper, deeper until Flynt’s heavy balls are pressed up against my chin and he’s making these wild, choking sounds, vibrations coursing through his strong body.

“I can’t believe…oh my God. Oh my God. How…”

Enjoying the fact that Flynt is at a loss for words, I bring my hand to his balls, cup them and roll them gently in my palm, his erection growing inside of my throat as a result.

“Fuck. You have to stop that. Stop or I’m going to choke you, baby. Stop.” But somehow, I know that can’t happen, that he’s only being protective, so I swallow, flexing my throat muscles around the plump trunk of his sex—and then I’m gasping for air, filling my lungs, because Flynt has yanked himself out of my mouth.

There isn’t a second to orient myself before I’m being lifted into the air. My feet hover above the ground for a few seconds and then my back is thrown up against the wall. A ripping sound is the only clue that my panties have become a casualty and then he’s entering me, driving me up the wall with a strangled yell into the curve of my neck.

“Don’t you ever do that again. Ever. I have to forget that happened, Ayla, or I’ll get greedy.” He draws my thighs up around his hips and hits me with hard, fast thrusts. “I won’t be able to keep my cock out of your mouth and I’m already having that problem with your cunt, aren’t I? Can’t leave the poor little thing alone. Won’t.” He surges forward, pinning me hard, entering me with the aggression of an animal. “If you keep spoiling me like a king, I’ll never let you see the light of day. No normal life for you, just my bed, the lake, the backseat of my car. I’ll turn you into a fuck toy, if you let me. Don’t let me.”

“You could never do that,” I hiccup into his neck, the pressure of my imminent orgasm beginning to be too much. Too full and too close. “You couldn’t lock me up.”

“No,” he pants, pressing his forehead to mine. He looks at me with so much affection that a rush of euphoria crashes through me. “No, I couldn’t do anything to hurt you. I couldn’t lock you up, just tell me I’ve got you locked down. Say it over and over and over…”

“You’ve got me locked down.” I tilt my hips and bear down into his grinds, my eyes widening as the pleasure starts to take me. “I’m yours. You’ve locked me down.”

“Forever, Ayla. For fucking ever.”

My neck loses the ability to hold my head up and I whimper, “Forever.”

That single word seems to shoot Flynt over the edge and we both go soaring together, groaning against each other’s open mouths, my legs wrapping around him and squeezing, his hips circling, grinding, our movements frantic as we work the final drops of frustration free.

I have no idea how long we stay like that, fluids dripping from our intimate parts where they join, our shallow breathing eventually turning more even. After a while, I start to notice a slight increase in tension in Flynt’s shoulders. I lift my head to find him looking at me with so much fiery intensity, I can only stare back in awe and wait.

“Is there anything you want to tell me, Ayla?”

At first, I have no idea what he’s talking about. My brain has been wiped clear by the last fifteen minutes of sweaty lovemaking. I barely know my own name.

“What do you mean?”

He gives me a warning look. “Ayla.”

Oh my gosh. My whole plan for the day comes back into focus. I need to tell him I might be pregnant. But before I can say a word, he speaks again.

“I’ve known your cycle by heart since freshman year.” He tilts his head, studies me. “When it’s that time of the month, you take bathroom breaks after second and fifth period to change your tampon.” He shifts his hips and I’m so sensitive that I suck in a breath. “As far as I can tell there’s nothing inside you right now except for me.”

Is he mad? I study his face. The downturned corners of his mouth. The way his dark eyebrows knit together, his gaze glittering.

Oh God, he does seem angry. Is he mad at me for getting pregnant? Does he already know I lied about being on the pill?

Of course, he’s going to be mad. He’s eighteen and I’m about to saddle him with a baby. What was I thinking? How could I be so impulsive?

Is he going to break up with me?

“Flynt—” I sob.

But I don’t get a chance to say another word, because the door to the AV room busts wide open. I scream at the sudden noise. And when several cops stride into the room, one of them flipping on the lights and blinding me, I cling to Flynt as hard as I can. What is happening?

“Mr. Porter?”

Flynt is so busy fixing my clothing to hide my nudity, he answers almost distractedly. “What?” he snaps, murder crackling in his eyes. “Don’t fucking look at her.”

“You’re under arrest for stealing car parts.” An officer steps forward with a pair of handcuffs and my life flashes before my eyes. “We’ve got you on camera, son. The owner of the car is pressing charges. Now, I see you’re a little busy…” He shares a chuckle with the other officers. And my principal is there, too. Oh lord. What is going on? “But I’ve got to Mirandize you and bring you down to the station.”

“Take one step closer to her and I will snap those cuffs closed around your throat,” Flynt growls, shielding me with his body. “And I said, don’t look at her.”

“Sorry, son.” He lowers his voice for our ears alone. “But you broke the law. Time to face the music.”

“Stolen car parts?” I ask Flynt in a whisper. “Not…not the ones you used to fix my car…?”

His jaw stiffens but he doesn’t answer. Thoughts are whirring behind his eyes a million miles an hour. His chest heaves, sweat breaking out on his forehead. Adrenaline has caused Flynt to stiffen again inside of me.

Apparently, no matter the situation, good or bad, my body responds to the stimulus the same way. I bite down on my bottom lip to hold in a whimper, struggling not to shift my hips. Flynt must feel me growing wetter, because his tortured gaze whips to mine. “Give me five more minutes with her,” he growls, flattening me roughly to the wall. “One more time and then I’ll come along without a fight.”

“You’ve had your fun. Let’s go.”

The officer starts to close the distance between us and Flynt gives me an upward drive of his hips, making me whine in that high-pitched way I can’t help sometimes. And my boyfriend is fucking me in front of the whole police force. Bucking frantically, snarling into rough kisses, his fingertips biting into the flesh of my ass to hold me steady. I don’t care about who is watching, though, I only see Flynt. I can only be extra desperate for him because they want to take him away from me. He stole car parts—and deep in my bones, I know he stole them for me. I’m the reason he’s going to jail. Maybe worse.

“I’m sorry,” I sob, salty wet tears sliding down my cheeks to flavor our hungry kisses. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry—”

“All right, that’s enough.”

The officer finally grabs hold of Flynt’s shoulders, yanking him as hard as possible away from me. I slide down the wall and hide myself with my clothing, watching in horror as he arrests Flynt. Several more men are required to come forward and help wrestle him into cliffs when he struggles, teeth bared, eyes wild. “Ayla,” he shouts. “Ayla!”

“Jesus, son,” the officer says, gaping at Flynt’s erection. “Look at that thing. No wonder she couldn’t wait until after class.”

I lunge onto my knees and carefully zip Flynt back into his jeans. I reach for his face, but I never make contact. He’s already being dragged out of the room, the whole scene blurring around me behind the veil of confusion and denial and tears.

“Flynt!”

“Ayla!” Six men are dragging him out the door, but he twists around to look at me one final time. “This isn’t over. We are—”

Someone fires a taser and Flynt jerks, his face contorting with pain.

I scream loud enough to heart my own eardrums.

It’s the last thing I remember before losing consciousness.