Sweet Girl by Quell T. Fox
Charlotte
WhenIwakethenextmorning,it’stoshouting.Somethingthatisentirelyunfamiliarinthishouse.Iknowthey’vehadtheirarguments,buttheydon’tshoutateachother.Hell,mymotherbarelyraiseshervoiceatall.
I get out of bed and walk to my door, the screaming getting louder the closer I get to it. I can’t make out the words but my stomach does a flip.
He told her.
No, he didn’t. He wouldn’t do that. She’d be up here if he had. There is no way she’d be yelling at him over this, would she?
I open the door and try to make out what they could possibly be arguing about. Something about the house and money and working her ass off.
I make my way down the stairs into the kitchen. Mom is standing by the door, her face red, while Jonathan is standing by the sink, emotionless.
“Mom? Is everything okay?” I look from her to him.
Her eyes are red, like she’s been crying, though I don’t see any other trace of it now.
“Fine, Charlotte. I have to go to work.” She opens the door and slams it shut behind her. Her car starts a moment later and leaves the driveway. I look to Jonathan whose eyebrows are furrowed and lips pursed. He pushes off from the counter and exits the kitchen, giving me a pitied look on the way out. A door slams a moment later and he’s either gone into his bedroom, or into the den.
I don’t know what they were fighting about, but it didn’t sound good. How long has this been going on for? They never fought while I was here before. Never.
Last night Jonathan said they weren’t together. If they aren’t, why is he still here? Why are they still pretending to be together?
I decide not to worry about it because really it’s none of my business. I run upstairs to have a shower. Just as I’m rinsing my hair there is a knock on the door, which startles me.
“I’m heading to the bar. I’ll be back tonight.”
All I think is how that’s the most normal thing he’s said to me since I’ve been here. Even his tone is normal… lacking the authoritative tone I’ve become so used to.
Maybe he really is taking what I said seriously, even though it didn’t seem that way last night. He didn’t seem to believe I was done, but I am. I have to be. As difficult as it’s going to be, this is the right thing to do.
They’ve been together for so long, the longest my mom has been with anyone. They seemed to have been doing so well together. They need to fix this. Maybe I can talk to my mom when she gets home from work. Find out what’s going on. Maybe I can help her and him, help them to fix it. It’s the least I can do after what I did…
I can’t take knowing I could be the cause of them splitting up. Because if Mom found out, no doubt that would be the result.
Though, after this morning, I can see it wouldn’t entirely be my fault. Something was going on before I came here… but what? Shutting off the shower, I get out and dry off. My phone is ringing as I make my way into my room, but stops by the time I get to it.
There is a missed call from a number I don’t recognize. A moment later, it dings with a text.
Unknown: Hey, it’s Michael. What are you doing today?
I purse my lips, thinking of how I want to handle this.
There is that saying… something about in order to get over someone you have to get under someone else? Michael isn’t nearly as nice as Jace is, meaning my chances of getting laid are higher.
Me: Just got out of the shower. You want to come by?
Michael: Will you be dressed when I get there? ;)
Me: Do you want me to be?
Michael: … be right there.
Casual hook ups have always been the way to go for me. I’ve never wanted to settle down with any of the guys I met. Probably because none of them were… Well, it doesn’t matter. Either way, maybe a good fuck is what I need.
Do I want a relationship with Michael? No. I don’t want a relationship with anyone. I want to focus on school. I don’t want to get married and have kids any time soon. I just want someone to hook up with every now and then. Friends with benefits. Michael is clearly okay with that. He isn’t trying to wine and dine me like one would if they wanted more… so that’s a good sign.
I don’t bother getting dressed, knowing he’ll definitely get the hint.
Me: Come right in when you get here. Up the stairs, turn right, first door on the left.
I add my address to the text and go about tidying my room a bit. When my door opens and I look up to see Michael, a smile crosses my lips. He’s in a pair of black basketball shorts and a light blue tank top. His dirty blonde hair falls over his forehead in a messy way. He looks as if he had been out jogging or something.
“Well, fuck me, Charlie. I didn’t think you were serious…” he trails off.
“No?” I walk towards him, the towel still wrapped around me. Tiny droplets of water fall from the ends of my hair, dripping down my chest. “Cause you got here pretty quickly.”
“I mean, I hoped you were being serious, but I wasn’t actually expecting it.” I raise a brow. “I’ve always thought you were hot, but now? Fuck, now you’re even more beautiful.”
I reach the front of him, sliding my hand up his chest. I’ve never had a problem in this department. For some reason, I’m comfortable letting guys know I want sex and I’m really comfortable with my body. I’ve only ever been nervous around Jonathan. I blame that on the situation, but something deep down has me thinking it’s something a little more serious. Something that is just downright ridiculous.
“I don’t need to hear any of that. You don’t need to make things up, just—”
“I’m not.” He shakes his head. “Charlie, I’m not making it up. I know I had a reputation in high school, but I really did always think you were attractive.”
“And you still do?”
His eyes fall down my body, from my bare feet all the way to my face, framed by my wet hair.
“Fuck yes,” he says before biting on his bottom lip.
I reach for his hand and pull him further into my room. I lean forward, sliding my arm around him, shutting and locking the door, my nipples brushing against his chest through the thin fabric of my towel. As I pull him closer to my bed, I can see his hard on through his shorts.
There is a lot of sexual tension floating around within me, thanks to my stepdaddy.
That’s about to change.
I gently push Michael onto the bed and straddle his hips. He looks up at me with a gorgeous smile, reaching his hand out as he slides it up my thigh, slowly lifting the towel. I pull the top loose and let it fall down around me. His fingers dig into my skin as he looks me over, his eyes landing on my breasts.
He groans deeply, both hands now digging into my skin. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean in, my lips meeting his. He opens for me immediately and my tongue slides across his. His cock pulses between my legs and I grind into him. The kiss turns from slow and passionate to messy and needy. I pull the shirt over his head, pulling back and looking over his chiseled chest and firm abs.
Why am I not surprised that his body looks like this?
His hands shift down to grip my ass and before he has a chance to lift me up and flip me over, I push back and get to my feet. Splaying my fingers out across his chest, I push him and he falls flat onto his back. He helps me pull his shorts off and his cock bounces free. It doesn’t look disappointing, the biggest I’d have ever touched, that I’m sure of.
Not bigger than Jonathan though.
I push any and all thoughts of him out of my head. Crawling back onto the bed, I take Michael’s warm, hard cock into my hand and stroke it slowly. Leaning forward, I wrap my lips around him and he hisses sharply, his muscles tensing. Taking my time with my mouth and hand, I make him as hard as I can. When his groans get closer together I pull back, looking up at him and crawl over, lining him up with my entrance. It’s been so long since I’ve had anyone inside of me…
The last person to be inside of me, other than me, was Jonathan—with his fingers.
Once again I push him from my thoughts as I slowly sink down onto Michael’s length. I’m careful to go slow, feeling how tight of a fit it is. But once I’m fully seated, I allow myself to enjoy it, that delicious stretch. I ride him with slow, long thrusts, just the way I like it. He doesn’t seem to mind, hands on my hips, guiding me forward and backward. His thumb finds my clit, stroking it firmly. The little bit of extra touch sends me into an orgasm. I clench around him, riding it out. Once it’s done, I take a moment to breathe before I start rocking my hips again, wanting him to come too.
Michael flips us over so I’m on my back and he’s on top. Gripping tightly to my left thigh, he grinds his hips forward, pushing deeper into me. His chest is pressed against mine, his face buried in my neck.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans.
My head falls back into the pillow. “Fuck me harder,” I tell him, digging my nails into his back.
He leans up, a smirk crossing his lips and he does as I ask, pulling out and slamming into me. He hits all the right spots, over and over again. The pain of him still stretching me is almost too much, but it feels so fucking good. His breathing picks up but he suddenly slows his movements before pulling out completely. He looks down at me, and then lowers his face between my legs.
“I want you to come again before I do.” And then he begins to devour me. Pushing his fingers inside of me, his tongue goes wild over my clit. Licking, slurping, sucking, nibbling. The more I get into it—gripping his hair, moaning, grinding against his face—the harder he goes.
I can’t believe I have been missing this kind of sex all along. What kind of guys have I been sleeping with this whole time?
The orgasm hits me before I know it, an uncontrollable cry leaves my mouth as I tear at the sheets. My vision blurs and my chest burns from the heavy breathing.
He crawls back to his knees before shoving himself inside of me again. “You sound so fucking hot when you come. Fuck,” he growls. He fucks me for his own pleasure this time, and I’m okay with it at this point, in fact, it turns me on. Knowing he wanted to make me come twice before he did? He can use my body however he wants now.
It doesn’t take him long to come, spilling inside of me. Probably stupid since we didn’t discuss anything prior, but I’m on BC and hopefully he’s clean. It’s something we can talk about later.
He collapses on the side of me.
“This is not what I was expecting when I called you.”
“Are you complaining?” I ask with a satisfied smile.
“Not at fucking all.” He laughs. He waits a long moment before turning to me. “So, how about dinner?”