27. Drew

TWENTY-SEVEN

drew

Me: Maybe…

I'd texted that because one, a guy like Bellamy West was all too used to getting what he wanted from women, and two, I was terrified of where this was going. In two months' time, I wouldn't even be here. I'd accepted an offer from Cornell weeks ago. In New York. So, whatever it was between Bellamy and me...it couldn't be more than a bit of fun, some hot sex. And him inviting me to his best friend's house for a party, that was more than just "I want to fuck you." Any other party, sure, but amongst his boys. No.

I wasn't going...but I'd already changed into a short dress, lined my eyes with Dior's best eyeliner, and doused myself in Chanel No 5. Because I was an addict, and Bellamy was my sick little addiction. One with zero rationality. I fastened my Tiffany necklace, then checked the last text that had come through on my phone. One offering a plausible excuse to cover my newfound obsession.

Diane: There's a party at Hendrix's tonight. They're always the best. Way better fun than Barrington.

Nora: No. No. No.

Nora: Tell her no, Drew.

Diane: You suck, Nora. Drew, Hendrix's parties are fun.

Diane: And we all know you have a thing for a bad boy.

Diane: AKA Bellamy

Nora: Don't encourage that shit, Diane.

Diane: Nora's just salty because we can't go to Bennett's parties anymore.

I didn't mention the fact that Bellamy had, in fact, already demanded I go to said party. Or that I was already dressed.

Me: Sounds fun. What time?

Nora: Hendrix. Hunt. The guy who licked the window, Drew. No!

I snorted.

Me: I mean, yes, but tell me you wouldn't...

Diane: What window? Is that code word for your va-jay-jay? OMG. NORA!!! Did you let him go down on you?????????????

Nora: NO!

Me: We're going. It'll be fun. I'll pick you guys up at ten.

"I can't believe you made me come here." Nora sulked in my passenger seat, staring through the windshield at Hendrix's dilapidated house.

"Lighten up, Nora." Diane shoved out of the car, swigging wine from the bottle as she rounded the front.

I grabbed the tequila I'd stolen from my dad's office, then we followed her through the maze of cars scattered over the driveway.

Music thumped from inside, and the second we stepped onto the sagging porch, something inside smashed, followed by a loud cheer. Truly, I expected nothing short of complete chaos from a party at Hendrix's house.

The door swung open, and a very drunk girl wearing shorts and a bra staggered out, thrusting her drink at me.

I glanced at the half-empty cup with lipstick stains along the rim. "I'm good."

She shoved it against my chest, anyway, giving me no choice but to take it unless I wanted it all over the front of my dress. And then she stumbled to the railing and hurled over the porch.

I chucked the drink into the bushes.

Nora looked from her to me to the bottle of tequila in my hand, then she held out her hand. "I'll drive tonight."

I shrugged and dropped my keys into her waiting palm. If she wanted to do this sober...by all means. She could have at it.

We shouldered through the packed hallway and into the crowded living room. The place looked half derelict. Stains covered the worn carpet. Wallpaper peeled from the corners of the ceilings. The smell of body odor, beer, and weed was repulsive. Did people actually live like this? I couldn't help but wonder if Bellamy did.

Hendrix stood on the coffee table, shirtless and with a Coors Light box on his head.

Several topless girls darted through the room as he performed some rendition of the Macarena.

A guy from my history class reclined back on the couch while a girl gave him a blow job. I'd never seen this kind of debauchery in my life.

On a frown, Nora gestured around the room. "You two wanted to come to this."

"Again." Diane took another swig of wine. "Lighten up, Nora. It's a party."

Hendrix froze mid-hip circle-thrust, wiping a hand over his heavily tattooed chest. "Nora the Explorer!" he cackled, then thrust his hips while singing: "I've gotta ballsack loaded up with things and knickknacks, too. Anything I might need, I'll find inside of you—ballsack. Ballsack."

I didn't even know what to say.

Diane frowned. "Did he just make Dora the Explorer perverted?"

"Hell yeah, I did!" He grabbed his crotch and gave it a shake before hopping off the table. "Feel free to take a number. I'll make sure you get serviced before the night's over. Free oil checks with my dipstick O' orgasms." He pointed to a red plastic ticket dispenser in the corner, a sign attached to it that read: Take a number. A couple of girls actually went and took a ticket from that thing.

Of all the random shit to have… "Where the hell did you get that?" I asked.

"Stole it from the DMV."

Of course, he did.

"I don't get it. He's gross." Nora shook her head at the girls with their tickets. "I'm going to find some water." Then she walked off.

"Oh, she gets it." Diane laughed, eyeing Hendrix up and down like he was her next snack.

A warm hand landed on my side, sliding around to my stomach and sending a thrill zipping through my veins that only he could elicit.

"Aw, baby girl." Bellamy's breath heated my neck, and my heart leaped into an elated little sprint as he pulled my back to his chest. "Whatcha doing here?"

Diane gave me a knowing glance before slipping into the crowd.

I turned in his arms, meeting those honey-colored eyes. "Changed my mind. Figured I'd come and witness the depravity."

"Nah." He leaned into me, his fingers playing at my hips. "I don't think you changed your mind."

Seconds ticked by, bass thumping in the background, while the dancing party goers around us faded into the background. The heat of his skin seeped through the material of my dress, and that intoxicating thrum hummed to life between us.

"Do your friends know you came here just to see me?"

"Is that what you think?"

"It's what I know." His teeth raked across his lip, then he laced his fingers through mine and led me through the crowded party. Not only did I follow without hesitation, but holding his hand felt far too normal, and I hated that I liked it so much.

We passed through the kitchen and onto a back porch decorated with Christmas lights and old street signs.

Wolf sat at a rickety card table surrounded by girls, and the second Bellamy stopped beside it, the attention of every girl there snapped to me.

"We're playing never have I ever," he said, his hand still firmly on mine as he shifted us around the table to an empty chair, promptly pulling me into his lap as though it were the most natural thing in the world. But it wasn't because everyone knew we were enemies, and this was a very public statement that we absolutely weren't.

Only I wasn't sure what we were, so I stiffened, glaring at him. A smirk pulled at his lips, that eyebrow ring hiking in a way that said he knew exactly what he was doing. He took the bottle of tequila from me and set it on the table.

Wolf snatched it, inspecting the bottle. "Holy shit, dude. This is Gran Patron…"

"So?" One girl said, shooting daggers in my direction.

"So? It's like four hundred bucks a bottle."

She huffed at that, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms.

"Still just gets you drunk," I said. And I hated to admit it, but of all the bottles in my dad's liquor collection, this was probably the cheap stuff.

Wolf placed the bottle back on the table. "Rich-people drunk…"

Bellamy popped the cork from the tequila and passed it to me while Wolf's gaze pinged between us. Then he shook his head. "Fuck my life, dude. Just fuck it..."

"Fuck yourself, Wolf." Bellamy settled back in the chair, his hand landing on my bare thigh, burning me. "The rules are, the newest person to the table starts."

The girls glared at me like they'd slit my throat, given a chance.

"Fine." I fought a smile. "Never have I ever been arrested."

Wolf and Bellamy both drank. Bellamy glared at me as he took a swig.

"Never have I ever gotten off to the thought of someone at this table," he said. The bottle was already to his lips before he'd finished his sentence, his gaze boring into mine. "Don't lie, Drew. I know you have."

I took the bottle from him, my fingers brushing over his before I drank. Because I had gotten off to the thought of him on numerous occasions. And the bastard knew it.

Wolf shook his head. "Never have I ever fucked someone at this table." Wolf drank, as did several of the girls, but much to my surprise, Bellamy didn't, and neither did I.

Wolf frowned at Bellamy. "Seriously, dude?" He waved a hand around the table. "No one?"

Bellamy shrugged his shoulder, his gaze aimed solely at me. "I'm picky."

"Jesus Christ. What kind of guy is picky with pussy?" He crushed the empty beer can, then tossed it to the corner of the porch as a group of people made their way into the yard. "There's no way you haven't pounded her." Wolf pointed at me. "No way."

"I mean, finger fucked, tongue fucked… but not fucked-fucked."

Heat engulfed my face, and I feigned a sudden fascination with the label on the tequila bottle as I elbowed Bellamy.

A girl pushed up from the table, disappearing inside.

We kept going through questions until there were only four of us left seated, and I had a slight buzz from the tequila.

After a never have I ever given or received a bathroom blowjob, Wolf glared at me through a drunken haze. "There is no way you're this pure, Paris Hilton." He hiccupped before slamming back against the seat. As much as he drank, he was going to throw up later.

"Or you're just asking the wrong questions," I said. "Screwing in a Dayton High bathroom. Really? That's just gross."

On a snort, he staggered to his feet, grabbing the arm of the blonde beside him. "Congratu-fucking-lations! You win," he said, leading her into the house.

And then it was just Bellamy and me and the hum of noise from the party inside.

"Wow," I mumbled. "That is…" The words trailed off when Bellamy's eyes dropped to my lips. Something wild coursed through my veins, stirred to life by a combination of tequila and him. His smell, his touch, that devastating smirk that got me every time.

His hand trailed along the inside of my thigh while his lips brushed my neck. I may have only been tipsy, but his touch made me feel absolutely drunk.

"Do you like it when I touch you, baby girl?"

"I shouldn't," I breathed, leaning into his chest as his hand wandered farther.

"You're right." His teeth raked my throat. "You really shouldn't."

Shouldn't and wouldn't were a million miles apart where Bellamy West was concerned. I had hated him, wanted him, reasoned as to why he was a terrible idea, and every time it came back to basic animal instinct that was as natural as breathing.

There was nothing rational about it. He was awful, but the tequila made the voice of reason a muffled whisper I no longer cared for.

His finger skimmed an inch higher. I shifted, spreading my legs just enough to give him access.

"But you're just full of bad decisions, aren't you?" he mumbled against my neck.

"Only when you're involved."

"Good."

His fingertips brushed my cheek, and just when the heat of his lips touched mine, the back door banged open and people stumbled out.

On a groan, Bellamy tugged down my skirt, grabbed the tequila, then led me through the overgrown backyard to a ratty trampoline.

He hoisted himself over the springs, then pulled me up beside him. And the second my back hit the material, he was on top of me, fisting my hair and kissing me. His hands roamed over my body, bunching my skirt before his warm palms slid over my thighs. This was no longer simply me wanting to screw him and get whatever this was out of my system, and I was no longer resisting this because I thought I'd lose all dignity. This was me being terrified of losing all control.

I shifted, rolling on top of him and straddling his lap.

"You know, you never got me expelled."

"But, I did fuck up your life…" His hands grasped my hips, forcing my hips over him on a groan.

I wasn't sure if he had fucked up my life because, really, he'd somehow become a highlight in it.

"Do you know how long I've thought about having you?" His hands went to my ass, squeezing as his mouth worked down my throat to the top of my breasts.

"Since you had me in that van?"

"No. I've wanted to fuck you since I had you in that van."

Fuck me—have me. Two different things. One of which I never expected from him.

He flipped me over and shoved my dress up my thighs. With every touch, I melted for him, and that scared me because he already felt like so much more than simple lust to me.

"I've wanted you since you got me arrested."

"That's messed up."

"Of course it is…"