Ruined Sinner by Becker Gray

Chapter Eighteen

Phin

I’m always happyto use you for what you’re good for.

Aurora’s words crawled through my mind as I sat at my desk, staring at my computer screen. The background was dark, the coding text in bright oranges and greens and blues and yellows. I was vaguely aware that outside the sun had set and the stars had come out. I was vaguely aware that I should go to bed, because there would be classes tomorrow and an entire day of Aurora trying to kill me with her eyes when she couldn’t avoid me.

Fuck. I was pissed. Pissed.

I was tired of not being believed. Of being the person everyone thought was led around by his dick. And okay, so yes, I’d done a lot of that to myself by spreading rumors and practically renting a timeshare on second and third base, but still. I’d thought Aurora had seen past all that.

But now that Lea had basically confirmed all of Aurora’s worst fears about me, I wasn’t so sure. If she thought I was really the kind of guy who would just abandon someone pregnant with my child, maybe she didn’t fucking know me at all.

My phone buzzed on my desk, and I was prepared to ignore it. This late at night, it was probably someone drunk and bored wanting to know if I had anything fun stashed in my room, and I didn’t. Other than a half-empty bottle of gin, my stash had been depleted for a while because no drug was as potent as Aurora Lincoln-Ward.

But it wasn’t one of my jackass friends; it was my dad.

At nearly one in the morning.

I picked it up immediately. “Dad?”

“Phin,” Dad said, sounding tired. He was a warm guy, the kind of person with tons of laugh lines branching out from his eyes and a near-constant smile on his face. “We just heard something concerning from Caroline Constantine.”

Fuck, and now my parents too? Was there anyone who didn’t think I was some sort of philandering asshole? “Dad, look, it’s not like however she made it sound. Lea and I, we didn’t—”

“I know she’s not pregnant with your child, Phin,” Dad said gently.

I stopped short, the computer screen a blur in front of me. “You do?”

“Of course, I do. You’re a good kid, and you’ve always shown up whenever someone’s asked you to. I know if this baby were yours that you would have done right by it and the mother, and I also know that you would have told us.” Dad laughed a little. “Because you can’t keep a secret for shit.”

I snorted. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Thanks,” I said, and I meant it sincerely. “For believing in me. The girl I am seeing… she didn’t. It’s like it was easier to believe the worst of me rather than to trust me.”

Dad made a small noise of understanding. “It’s like that for a lot of people, I’m sorry to say,” he said. “And there’s a good reason for it. If we believe the worst instead of the best, then it means we can’t be let down anymore. We can’t be hurt. Maybe this girl is scared of being hurt again.”

I blinked down at my desk, thinking about that. Aurora was so fierce, so vibrant—she took what she wanted and stomped all over the rest with her punk-looking boots and she never looked back.

But of course I’d hurt her. Of course other people had hurt her.

Maybe when she lashed out—when she did everything she could to push me away—it was more about her than me. Maybe she used that kiss-em-or-kill-em attitude to hide the raw vulnerability underneath.

“At any rate,” Dad continued, “the other reason I know it’s not your child is the same reason Caroline Constantine called me. Apparently, Lea got herself mixed up with someone in Caroline’s circle and was trying to dodge the fallout by claiming the baby was yours instead of the son of her friend. Caroline called me to apologize for the inconvenience.”

It certainly had been fucking inconvenient, but as much as I was irritated at Lea for lying, I didn’t want her to be on the wrong side of Keaton’s mother. She was one of those people who looked like they’d just stepped from the pages of a New England society magazine—cool, elegant, lovely—but rumor had it that she was made of shark teeth and stolen tears on the inside.

“Keaton’s mom isn’t going to, like, have Lea whacked or something, is she?” I asked, worried.

My dad gave a long laugh at that. “No, no, nothing like that. Caroline doesn’t like scandal, that’s all. She’s hoping that she can find a quiet solution—and no, that’s not a synonym for murder—which will keep everyone’s public image spic and span.”

“Okay,” I said, somewhat reassured, but still. I knew the Constantines were more Kennedy than capo, but I also knew that Caroline didn’t keep her Irish attack dog, Ronan, around because he was good at knitting potholders.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that the situation is being handled. And not in a Cosa Nostra way, okay? In a normal let’s-not-cause-a-scandal way.”

“Okay,” I said reluctantly.

“And this young lady of yours? Maybe give her a little grace. It’s easy to believe that we’re worth cheating on or lying to. It’s harder to believe that we’re worth changing for. Maybe that’s what she needs to hear and see. Not the facts of what actually happened, but the truth that she’s worth everything. Even patience. Even risking your heart.”

I swallowed. “That’s very wise for a man who spends most of his free time reading books about old ships.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

“Goodnight, Dad. Tell Mom hi for me.”

“I will. Goodnight, son.”

I set down the phone, and for a moment, I considered picking it up again to call Aurora with this late-night epiphany. But then I remembered what Dad said.

She’s worth everything.

Patience.

Risking your heart.

Everything was what I’d made her promise to me, right? So maybe it was time I showed her I was willing to give her everything back.

But how?

*     *     *

The next day was much like I’d imagined, except for one part. As I was walking down the hall, blinded by a jaw-cracking yawn, a hand fisted into my uniform blazer and dragged me into an empty classroom. I stopped yawning to see Aurora glaring at me.

“Shut up,” she said, hands yanking at my fly.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“I was yawning!”

“Then get more sleep,” she muttered, pulling my zipper down and freeing my already stiffening cock. I didn’t argue with her, because I didn’t want to accidentally reveal the reason I hadn’t gone to bed until almost dawn.

Not until it was ready.

I groaned as she hopped onto a nearby desk and spread her legs, pushing her skirt up to her hips and hooking her black panties to the side. There was a flash of gold curls and wet pink, and then I was a goner. My cock instantly turned to ridged, veiny stone.

“I thought you hated me,” I said, stepping up to her.

“I do,” she said hotly, batting my hands away because I was taking too long. “I hate you so fucking much. You’re a liar and a fuckboy. Come here.”

She grabbed me by the open fly of my pants and dragged me close, her booted foot coming behind my ass to herd me closer.

“You want me to fuck you, princess?” I asked, looking down at her flushed cheeks and to where her nipples pressed against her white button-up shirt. “You want me to make you feel better?”

“Shut up,” she said again, but it rather lost its bite as she was pulling me shamelessly closer and closer, until I was able to graze my wide tip over her folds.

She shivered as I took my time teasing her, sliding in a little and then pulling free, rubbing my crown on her swollen little clit until she gasped. “Hurry,” she mumbled. “Hurry before I change my mind.”

“Face it, Aurora,” I grunted as I plunged in with a single rough stroke. “You’ll never change your mind. You want it from me too much. You want me to fuck you dirty. You want it a little wrong. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in an empty classroom riding my dick with your skirt up by your hips.”

“You’re an unmitigated fucktrumpet,” she breathed, her eyelids fluttering closed as I began working my way in and out of her tight pussy. She kept her fingers curled tight around the lapels of my blazer, holding me close.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

She didn’t answer, her breathing getting faster and faster and her cheeks getting pinker and pinker as I moved faster, making sure that the rough pump of my cock was mirrored by my thumb kneading her clit. Maybe I’d only done this a few times, but my career as a serial second-baser had taught me a few things. Namely, how to make sure a girl came.

“There you go,” I said, not bothering to hide the victory in my voice as she tightened her thighs around my hips and dropped her head all the way back.

I was going to have everything. Not just the furtive sex, but everything else I wanted too, her heart and her future. And maybe I was going to get it another way, but fuck if I wasn’t going to enjoy the hate-sex while the getting was good.

With a sharp cry, her body went taut. I didn’t stop fucking though, didn’t stop rolling my thumb over her clit, because I was so close to coming too, my thighs and belly tensed and ready, and I needed to unload inside her and—

She opened her eyes, and with an evil look, pushed me back far enough that I slid free of her body. My cock bobbed, dusky-red and angry in the cool air, jutting obscenely from the front of my uniform pants, feeling so tight and full, and fuck, I was still so fucking close. I needed to keep fucking. I needed back inside her wet cunt before I died.

I stepped back toward her, but she stopped me with a booted foot to my chest.

“I don’t think so,” she said smugly.

“Aurora,” I growled, feeling very close to feral. “You don’t want to do this to me.”

“Oh,” she said, “but I think I do.” She hooked her other leg around the side of the desk, which spread her wide open again. She pushed her panties back to the side, giving me a clear view of her wet, satisfied cunt. “If you want to come, you can do it like this. Looking at me. If you don’t want to do it like this, then I’ll leave and you can wank off alone. Your choice.”

The sound that came out of me was something like a snarl, but my hand dropped to my cock as I started masturbating myself. I leaned into the boot still braced against my chest and dropped my gaze to the slick heaven beneath her skirt, my fist shuttling hard and fast on my dick.

Her lips parted as she watched me, and she was breathing faster again, as if watching me jerk off for her turned her on.

“Take a good look,” I rasped. “Next time I come, you’re going to be bouncing on this.”

A hot glare belied by the little squirm her hips gave at that. “We’ll see.”

The release chewed at the base of my spine, hot and hungry, and with a grunt, I pushed her boot off my chest, and stepped close to her just in time to jet long stripes of white across her skirt and thighs. I painted her as well as I could, stroking myself with vicious fucks of my fist until my balls were drained. And then I stepped back to admire my handiwork.

She looked pissed off and horny too, exactly how I liked her, and with my cum sprayed across her thighs and her skirt, she looked like mine.

Which was even more how I liked her.

“Now I owe you a new skirt,” I said with a smirk, zipping up.

She called me something nasty in German—I wasn’t sure what it was, but it didn’t take Noam Chomsky to figure out that it wasn’t something nice—and then pushed off the desk with another glare. “Verpiss dich, ziegenficker,” she seethed as she stalked to the door.

“I love you too!” I called after her, a smile spreading across my face.

She left with a middle finger in the air and a slam of the door, and then I grabbed my satchel, deciding to skip the rest of the day.

As fun as it was to be dragged into random rooms for energetic hatefucking, I wanted more.

And I was going to get it by giving her everything that I could.

Maybe even part of her dream.