Twisted Lies by Nora Cobb
Chapter 34
Astrid
The run today is grueling, or maybe I’m not in as good shape as I thought I was. Gillian laughs as I struggle to keep up with her quick pace around the bends. Lifting tightens muscles while running lengthens them out, she points out as she runs backward along the trail. Gillian shows me some stretches that I can do while we run.
The run distracts me from what I think I have to do. Why mess with those boys? Why try to teach them not to mess with me? Wouldn’t it make more sense to ignore them? No, it won’t. I’m on their radar, and they won’t disappear just because I don’t want to be harassed.
Sweaty and joking, the team heads back into the gym, and I feel odd not showering off, so I follow the girls down into the locker room to get cleaned up. Justin is going to have to deal with the new me.
“Where are you off to now?” asks Gillian, lacing up her sneakers. She has a pair for every occasion, and the suede ones she’s wearing now are for going out.
I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly. “I have some homework to do.”
Gillian laughs as I dab on lip gloss. “Alone?” she asks. “You’re a busy girl. Bryce, Wyatt, Justin. You almost have a complete set.”
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. “What do you mean?” I ask her.
“Pierce Vanderbilt? You’re missing the fourth.” Wisely, she didn’t mention the Halloween Ball. Or my fucked-up date with Bryce.
“I’m not into him.” My tone is stern, and the teasing better stop now. “And that’s how I want it. Besides, he hates me.”
“He’s not into any girl,” replies Gillian, not sensing my warning tone, “He’s been like that since, you know…that thing.”
My curiosity shuts down my indifference every time. Dressed in my spare tracksuit, I follow Gillian out of the locker area, through the main gym, heading toward the doors. I lean in and whisper as we walk toward the dorms. “What thing?” I ask her.
Gillian looks behind us and waits for the two girls from our team to pass by. Her eyes gleam with a nastiness I’ve not seen in them before. This gossip will be gold. “There’s a rumor that an English teacher was fired after touching him,” she whispers.
I grab Gillian’s arm and make her stop walking. “Wait,” I gawk, “He was with a teacher?”
“That’s the rumor,” she smirks, “The teacher said she didn’t do it. And Pierce was failing her class. But he did spend a lot of time in her office after hours.” Gillian gives me an incredulous look. “She claims it was to help him with his homework. It made the papers, though his name wasn’t given since he was a minor.”
“Holy fuck,” I mutter, “What did his parents do?”
“His parents pretended nothing happened and refused to press charges.” Gillian starts walking again, and I follow, eager to hear more. “They didn’t want Pierce associated with a scandal.” Gillian smiles at me as if she hadn’t just rocked my perception of Stonehaven. “Are you meeting Justin?”
Without paying attention, we’ve ended up in front of Vogel Hall. Gillian nudges my shoulder, almost sending me sprawling. “Make him do the work,” she winks, “You need the rest.”
She darts off laughing before I can smack her—all in fun. I start to squirm, thinking about how Justin’s mouth felt on my bare skin. I hurry through the winding maze of hallways, following the scent of linseed oil and muted music playing. The curtain is pulled across Justin’s space, and I slip through the gap to find him sitting cross-legged on the platform. Barefoot and sketching, he’s changed into jeans and a graphic tee.
He glances over at me. “Your hair is damp.”
“I took a shower.” I move closer to take a peek at his sketch. “If you want me sweaty, you’re going to have to make me that way yourself.”
A hint of a smile lifts the corner of his mouth as Justin tosses the sketchpad on the floor. He stands, but instead of approaching me, he goes to his easel and starts sharpening his pencil with a piece of sandpaper. So, he’s going to play like he could not care less if I was here or not.
I step up onto the platform that’s a little wider than a twin-sized bed. I pull off my nylon team jacket and toss it onto a folding chair by the wall. With my back to Justin, I pull off my long-sleeved T-shirt with the Stonehaven crest on the shoulder. My hands wrestle off my sports bra that packs me in, and eventually, it’s off. My breath picks up as I slowly unknot the string holding up my nylon track pants.
I look at him over my shoulder. “How do you want me to pose?”
His long hair hangs in his face, concealing his expression and his thoughts. I tilt my head until I can see past the curtain of hair. His eyes gradually lift, revealing an intense gaze. I don’t flinch; I don’t dare.
“I thought we might do something else instead.” The outline of his swollen cock presses against his jeans. “Finish what we started.”
I look away, wondering if he knows that Bryce has already taken me. Closing my eyes, I wait for harsh words to follow. Why did I turn Justin down and say yes to Bryce? I made a dumbass mistake, but obviously, I’ll live. I brace myself, waiting for him to speak.
“I know you want Bryce,” he says, stepping onto the platform beside me, “I know I’ll have to share, and I don’t mind.”
My eyes widen. “What do you mean by share?”
“Someone on the side,” Justin explains casually, “A friend that’s more than just a friend.” His fingertips touch my shoulder as I take in a sharp breath. “You’re my muse, and I will do what I want to keep you. But even if I share you with another, know this: when you’re with me, you’re mine.”
His lips brush my bare shoulder, and I tremble under his touch as my skin flares with goose bumps. My eyes close again as his mouth stays on my shoulder. His hand moves slowly down the length of my arm, and Justin guides my hand onto his hard bulge. I feel the stiff outline under the worn denim. Imagining him deep inside me, I gasp as if I can already feel him spreading me apart.
“Why would you be okay with being on the side?” I ask him, “Don’t you want to be the only one?”
His lips leave my shoulder. “You don’t want me bad enough.” His fingers tug at the drawstring, and my warm-up pants slide to the floor with a soft hiss. My tight spandex shorts outline my thighs and my pussy.
“But I do want you,” I whisper breathlessly as my heart pounds in my ears. “Bad.”
“Desire me, maybe?” he asks, “I want you, Astrid. And I’m willing to do it on our terms, but no one else’s.”
“I don’t have terms,” I whisper and then moan as his hand lightly traces my inner thigh.
“You will.” Justin’s hands move to my waist, and he pulls me into a hot kiss. I moan as I clutch his strong shoulders. His wiry build pushes hard into mine. I move against him hungrily, grinding myself against his hard-on. His mouth crushes kisses against my bare chest, and his long hair tickles my nipples into tight peaks. I’m so wet.
Justin lingers as the tip of his tongue touches my aroused nipple. He presses his face to my skin and inhales my scent.
I come alive as Justin proves how much he wants me the way I am. The way I’ve always been. But I’m not like that anymore. I’m a Howland, and Howlands have self-respect. They don’t let their bodies take control and fuck boys like a bitch in heat.
Fuck it. I want this. I reach for the button on his jeans, undoing it and letting him loose. I run my hand along his long, thick length as my pussy throbs.
“I want to feel you in between my legs,” I whisper.
Justin lifts his head and smiles. “You turn me on,” he moans, “You make me thirsty.”
His hands dive into my shorts. He tugs them down until gravity takes over, and they fall to the floor. Justin starts to kneel down in front of me, but I grab his shoulders, holding him in place. His eyes scowl at me as if I’m a dirty tease.
I shake my head. “Not me. This time, it’s you,” I whisper, “I want you more than you think.”
“Why?” he asks.
I freeze, caught in his fixed gaze, and withdraw into a thought I don’t want to share. I try to kiss him, but he pulls away.
“Why?” he asks again with a tense tone in his usually smooth voice.
I can’t look him in the eyes. I’d rather be naked in front of him than admit out loud how I feel about anyone. I swallow hard. My hands curl into fists and grip his T-shirt. “You have legit talent, Justin. You’re a real artist. The things you put on paper with only a few lines.” My voice cracks a little. “You don’t need me. But you treat me well, and I like it when you’re kind.”
He smiles at the awkward words I forced out of my throat. “I need my muse,” he says, pulling me closer.
We hold each other’s gaze until he kisses my lips, long and deep. A flurry of tingles rises inside of me as I hold him tighter. Without Pierce, Justin is kind, and there’s nothing wrong with having gentleness in my life. Why shouldn’t a boy be nice to me? Why do I constantly have to struggle to be loved?
Justin’s tongue sweeps across mine as he presses his hard bulge against me, and I moan into his mouth. I feel the wetness between my thighs building as we kiss like we can’t stop. I run my hands through his hair, and the silkiness through my fingers gives me chills.
“You have a condom?” I ask, pulling away.
He nods.
“Good boy.”
I kneel in front of Justin, pulling his jeans down to the platform while he yanks off his shirt. We’re both naked, and it gives me a wicked chill on the back of my legs. I rise up on my knees, watching his eyes as I lick the pre-cum off his tip. I never would’ve considered a guy who wasn’t a badass. At Monarch, love was proven by claiming and allowing it to take you. But this emotion guiding me is new; I want to please Justin because he pleases me.
My mouth glides forward and then back, feeling the taut skin against my flattened tongue. Justin moans as my lips circle his ridge, and I give him a slow stroke with the tip of my tongue. His breathing picks up, but I slow down, teasing his inches until they’re harder than a rock. I look up with big eyes, eager to please as Justin looks down at me in a hazy heat.
“Astrid, baby,” he groans, closing his eyes. “I will always make you happy.”
I pull back, letting his cock slip out of my lips. His hard tool bobs in front of my mouth. I wait until Justin’s watching me lick the spit off my bottom lip. I lean backward on the platform until my ass is on the ground and then open my legs wide. I’m glistening for him.
Justin steps off the platform and rummages through a tackle box filled with art gear. He tosses pencils and stick erasers onto the ground before taking out a condom. It doesn’t bother me that he’s prepared.
Justin turns his back and hunches his shoulders, his feet apart, as he slides the condom down on his cock. When he turns around, I lie flat, waiting for him to climb on top of me.
“This is what I want,” he says, stretching his body over mine. “You and me in New York or LA, in a studio, making love and art.”
I lift my lips to his so I don’t have to answer. I don’t have to pretend we have a future.
His finger slides into me, and he frowns. “Astrid? What’s wrong?”
I turn my face away and start to shut down. Justin stops talking immediately as he quickly grips my hips. He presses his tip hard against my slit. The delicious friction makes me sigh until he parts me, and then I moan. My thighs open wider, and Justin moves into me a little at a time, creating a slow rhythm, pulling out before pushing back in.
I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him in deep. So much deeper. I lift my hands to his shoulders and match his rhythm as I stare into his soft gaze.
“You feel so good.” His eyelashes flutter. “So perfect.”
Soon, my body starts to buck against his hips, grinding and twisting as his hot breath hits my neck and his hand slips between us. Tingles race through me as his finger toys with my clit. I forget that awful date with Bryce as my mind spins wildly into a feeling of falling in love with someone who wants me desperately. My pussy tightens around him as my entire body clenches. Tears that were bottled up cover my cheeks as my breath shortens. I bite my lip to keep from shouting as my body shudders with release.
But Justin doesn’t conceal what we’re doing as he shouts when he cums in the condom. “God…yes…baby!” he groans, “That’s how I want to feel. I—”
He buries his head next to my shoulder, swallowing down gulps of air as if he were drowning. I watch the still curtain, hoping no one will discover us, though I’m sure they all heard him. Justin wanted them to hear. He wants everyone to know he’s fucking me. I push his drained body off me and grab for my shorts on the floor.
“Not yet,” he pants, “I have to draw you first.”
I want to leave, but I also don’t want to walk past curious eyes. I grab a drop cloth and drape it over my gleaming pussy, refusing to look at Justin. Why do these boys keep playing games?
