Beautiful Torment (16 page)

I don’t let him say another word, unbuttoning my coat, his eyes ablaze when he realizes I’m naked underneath.

“Holy fuck,” he mutters as I let my jacket fall to the floor.

“Too much?”

“Luci,” he leaps from his chair. “No, it’s perfect,
you’re perfect
.” His embrace is warm, so opposite from the cold I just faced outside.

“You know,” he purrs. “For someone who was a virgin, you’re awfully kinky.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Sweetheart,” he laughs. “I’m
salivating
.”

I unbuckle his pants as both his hands cup my behind. “You’re ass is impeccable.”

“Oh yeah?” I turn around and bend over so he can get a better look.

I immediately hear the rustling of a condom wrapper as he states his demands. “Spread your legs for me.”

I obey, and the next thing I know he’s lifting me from the waist and shoving my body against the door while ramming into me from behind. I writhe, from both the feeling of the laminate against my chest and the sensation of being filled
so quickly
. His mouth finds my neck as his hands explore me. The way he’s jerking his cock into me, so roughly, yet caressing my body with such care does insane things to me.

He suddenly stills and I cry out. “Why did you stop?”

“I’m falling too fast,” he sighs.

I swallow, wondering if he means his feelings, or the fact he’s already so close to coming.

He remains still except for his hands. They move over my ribs, to my hips, rubbing and brushing my skin softly.

“You love it when I touch you,” he whispers.

“Yes,” I answer

“You’re grabbing onto my cock so tightly,” he breathes. “And all I have are my hands on you.”

“But you’re inside me,” I counter.

“I’m not even moving,” his light bellow provokes me.

“It doesn’t matter,” my back arches against him as my hands move up the sides of his face and into his hair, a silent beg to start moving again. He turns his head and kisses my arm, but when he doesn’t move, I do, pushing and backing myself into him.

“Yeah! Keep backing up into me,” he groans. “Ugh! Like that!”

He finally starts moving again, ramming forward hard.

I close my eyes, imagining how his face is probably scrunched up in bliss. By now, his mouth has most likely fallen open wide, his head tilted back, maybe even his lips are pulling back too, making those hot expressions of his.

The bell rings, dismissing school, and we both pause, hearing all the noise and shouting just on the other side of the door.

“They have no idea what we’re doing in here,” I’m panting hard.

“Do you like that?” He asks, his voice husky and warm. “You naked, with me inside of you, a piece of wood away from all of them?”

I whimper.

“You do,” he fathoms. “I can feel your pussy contracting around me.”

“Oh god,” I wail at his vile words. “Please,” I whimper again. He slides his hands down my body, finding my swollen clit. He nibbles at my ear as he rubs me. “Faster, Mr. Harrington,” I plead.

“Fuck!” he tightens his grip on me. He’s about to explode.

Suddenly, there’s a knock. The vibration pushes his finger in me further, and I’m drowning in euphoria.

“Mr. Harrington?” A male voice booms.

He slows his demanding movement, his cock pulsating, ready to release. He swallows hard against my back as he answers.

“Yeah?” His voice is too airy, too full of pleasure.

“Um, we’re supposed to discuss next years track schedule?” It’s Mr. Chevy.

“Uh,” he grunts heavily in my ear as he pulls us away from the door, rocking deeper into me in the process. He bends me over the island, plunging with a primitive and possessed drive, so hard and fast that he’s shouting his answer to both his colleague and to me.

“Coming!” He grunts lowly in my ear as his cock extends inside me, thudding and emptying into the condom.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“No, thank you…” I feel his smile even though I can’t see his face. His arms disappear from around me and I’m glad he can’t see me as he pulls out. “… For the book, it’s really the best gift ever.”

“Well it’s yours,” he exhales. “Like I said, you own it.”

He removes the overly filled condom before fixing his shirt and pants, giving me one last kiss before sliding out the door and off to his meeting.

I put my coat back on, zipping it up. I grab my new book and wait a few minutes before leaving too, hoping I can still beat Gracie home before she realizes I was gone.

The rest of February brings much of the same in the form of mind-blowing sex and blurred lines. I try to get over the fact that he doesn’t want more. I attempt to return to understanding the reality of things. But, I can’t seem to leave my dream world, and it wreaks havoc on my heart.

SPRING PLAY

Gracie made the lead in the school play, which is unheard of for a freshman. This comes as no surprise to me, because I know how amazing she is.

Rehearsals are the entire month of March, and because of this, I’ve been staying after school even later than usual. I guess if I left after school like a normal person, I would have a lot of time before I’d have to come back and get her. Nevertheless, I’m not normal. I stay after daily with my chemistry teacher, and there’s no point in me going home just to have to return an hour or so later. So, once my teacher and I finish devouring each other, I go and sit in the very back of the auditorium, doing homework and reading, watching as my sister sings and dances.

Today is no different, and after we clean up and say goodbye, I leave his office and grab a seat in the theater. Using the faint light that shines in through the tiny glass hole of the door, I start my homework, moving from subject to subject with a sense of ease.

“Are you as good as she is?” His voice is smooth in my ear, jolting me to life. I thought for sure he left when I did.

I smile, biting my lip.

“Definitely not.” I turn around, seeing him in the seat behind me. “What are you doing here?”

“I know you’ve been coming here,” he shrugs.

“Are you as good of a writer as your sister is?” I turn back around, facing the stage, watching as his sister and my English teacher animatedly talks with the school’s music director.

“Definitely not,” he repeats my answer, but I bet he’s making it up; he’s good at everything.

I get back to my homework. He’s quiet, and I can feel his eyes on my back, or maybe he’s watching the rehearsal. Every bone in my body is aware of him until I’m no longer able to concentrate on what’s in front of me.

“You know, you can sit next to me,” I say, looking straight ahead as if I’m talking to no one. “I won’t bite.”

I hear him chuckle as the seat flaps up automatically. His scent is overpowering as he takes the seat next to mine.

“What are you working on?” He closes the space between us and I focus on the small stubble on his face, thinking about how badly I want to nibble on it, even though I
just did
not too long ago. “Luci,” his breath is intoxicating.

“Chemistry homework,” I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Teacher’s a real dick.”

“What about your chemistry teacher’s dick?” His eyes light up and I jab him in the ribs.

“Hey!” I shout as he attempts to tickle me, his fingers roaming, lingering a little too long to be innocent.

Something falls on stage and we both freeze, realizing that although we’re in the back, and it’s dark, we’re not alone. I settle back in my seat, catching my breath, embarrassed after doing something so silly. He grabs my hand, moving it under the chair before entwining our fingers.

I watch his silhouette out of the corner of my eye and we’re quiet as we watch the performance on stage. I have no idea what’s going on. All I notice is the current that flows from his most simple touch straight to my heart.

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” My question’s random, jarring in our silence.

“Italy,” he answers almost immediately. I don’t say anything as I wait for him to elaborate.

“There’s so much history. The old mixed with the new, and the architecture is unreal, like something made up in a book brought to life,” he’s rubbing my hand as he answers. “Every little street leads to a piazza, the cobblestones…”

“It sounds magical,” I whisper, and my eyes closed as I imagine the picture he’s painting, all the colors and the smells that he goes into. “Do you know Italian too?”

“Maybe a little,” he shrugs as the corner of his lips turn up. “What about you,” he asks. “Have you traveled much?”

“Not really,” I shake my head. “A few states, but never outside of the country, aside from Canada once when I was a kid,” I sigh. “I want to though.”

“Okay,” he smiles. “So travel - love, hate, or no opinion?” He asks, starting our little game we sometimes play.

He asks something, to which I have to answer love, hate, or no option, and then it’s my turn to ask him, but the topic has to do in some way, shape or form with the last.

“Love,” I answer, meeting his smile. “I think I’d love it.”

“So you could experience the real thing,” he laughs. “Aside from your ziti pizza.”

“Hey,” I huff. “Don’t knock the ziti pizza.”

He laughs, as I think of my question.

“Okay, Mr. travel and food. “Breakfast?”

“The meal or the club?” He smirks, referencing the movie.

“Both!”

“Love. It’s the most important meal of the day,” he says and I roll my eyes. “And also love.”

“I mostly skip breakfast,” I admit and he shakes his head.

“Bad girl,” he tisks. “Don’t disappoint me on this next one,” he says. “John Hughes?”

“Love!” I shriek. “
Pretty in Pink
is my favorite movie!”

“What’s your second favorite?”

“Hmm,” I think. “
Three Men And A Little Lady
!”

“Really?” His face is scrunched, but his eyes still glisten.

“Yes! Don’t make fun. It’s so cute!” I pause, debating on my next question. “England?” I know he’s been.

“England? We’re passed the travel subject.”

“No, they go to England in the movie,” I correct. “It fits.”

“No opinion,” he shrugs. “It’s kind of dreary…. Fish and or chips?”

“Well, I’ve never had the official fish
and
chips. But, love chips, hate fish as a food, no opinion on the pet version.”

He laughs a wonderful sound.

“How do you have no opinion on fish?” He’s still chuckling. “You either like them or you don’t.”

“I dunno,” I shrug. “They’re kind of just there… in a bowl, swimming around until they die and float to the top. It’s
so weird
.”

He’s still laughing as I remain on the whole British topic for my next question. “
Harry Potter
?”

“No opinion,” he answers. Haven’t read the books, or seen the movie.”

“Oh the books are so fun, you have to read them!”

“Is there anything you haven’t read?”

“Don’t be absurd,” I roll my eyes.

We continue like this, back and forth, for the rest of the afternoon, and too soon I’m disappointed when we hear everyone on stage saying goodbye. He looks at his watch and we laugh, not realizing how long we’ve been here.

We say goodbye for the second time today.

It’s not any easier.

The next day after school, as I’m putting my clothes back on, he says he’ll meet me in the auditorium.

I’m giddy as he plops down into the seat next to me, in our quiet little back row, grabbing my hand like he did yesterday, as a new magical conversation begins, planting itself in my memory, never to be removed.

This is how it I spend my March, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The show performs all this upcoming week and weekend, leading into spring break. Thanks to going over snow days this year, spring break is actually pretty short, and not nearly as long as it was supposed to be. Hallelujah! Everyone keeps complaining about its length, but I know two people who are extremely thankful.

The local elementary and middle schools have field trips to see the play during this week, while parents and the public will come over the weekend.

Today is the very last rehearsal, and I’m devastated to no longer having that extra excuse to spend more time with him.

I was getting nervous he wasn’t going to show up in the auditorium today. He had a department meeting after school and wasn’t sure how long it was going to take.

I can’t help the extra beat of my heart when I see him sneak into the theater, watching out of the corner of my eye as he takes the seat behind me, just like he did the first time he showed up here, almost a month ago.

“Follow me,” he whispers.

He abruptly gets back up and walks out.

I stand, grabbing my bag and heading out the side door of the auditorium too. The change of lighting makes me to squint, and I rub my eyes. I don’t question where we’re going as I match my pace to his, because it doesn’t matter.

I’d follow him anywhere.

His path takes us down the music hallway. I haven’t been to this side of the school since freshman year, when everyone is forced to either take band or chorus.

He opens a door and we enter a small rehearsal room. The lights are off and the early evening luster creates a spotlight of air dust that shines onto the piano. He places his hand on the small of my back, guiding me inside.

“I want to show you something,” he watches me intently as he takes a seat at the piano.

Suddenly, his fingers are dancing over the keys with grace and ease; creating the most lovely, most alluring sound I’ve ever heard. My mind swirls, and for the quickest second I loose my balance. I want to move closer, but I can’t. I’m stuck, trapped, open-mouthed and awestruck.

What
can’t
he do?

I shut my eyes, listening to the sound of the slow, brilliant music, imagining the way his hands move over the keys, just the way they do over me.

The last note vibrates in the air and when I open my eyes again, a single tear escapes out of nowhere. Neither of us says anything. I try a few times, but nothing comes out. There are no words for something so magnificent.

“So,” he whispers, still facing the piano, not turning around to see me.

“I- I-” I can’t find the words.

I watch the sides of his face as he forms a smile, as I try hard to get out something coherent.

“Did I actually render you speechless?”

I nod, even though he can’t see me, my face scrunching together, trying so desperately to structure some sort of a sentence.

“Oh, Luci,” he finally turns around. “Why are you crying?”

“That was… beautiful,” I wipe my eyes.

“Haven’t done that in years,” he chuckles.

“THAT was not playing in years?”

He shakes his head, smiling over my reaction.

The room is peaceful and calm as he gets up and closes the gap between us, pressing his lips lightly against mine. Our kiss grows urgent as each second passes, until we both pull away, needing air.

“You
wreck me
, you know that?” He regards me with same unmistakable awe I just had, before taking on an almost pained look.

It breaks me.

Until he speaks; then, I’m suddenly whole again.

“I have you…
multiple times
in a day,” he shakes his head, “… yet at night I find myself having to fuck my hand just thinking about you.”

I swallow hard. “I’d love to see that.”

“You have, Trouble,” he smirks, pulling me close again.

“Not in a while,” I laugh lightly.

“I’ll see what I can arrange,” he says, as his hands find their way under my shirt. “But not right now,” he grazes my stomach. “Right now, I need nothing more than to just be inside of you.”

I was hoping by now, with break coming up, he would ask me to meet him outside of these walls.

Somewhere.

Anywhere.

I’m disappointed come Friday when he hasn’t. How long can I keep up my rouse, pretending I’m okay with how things are?

“Are you seeing your sister in the show this weekend?”

“My parents are going tonight,” I help him line back up the buttons on his shirt after yet another one of our smoldering sessions. “So I’ll probably tag along.”

He starts helping with my clothing next, and I try not to meet his eye. “What about you?” I know if he says he’s going over the weekend I’ll come too.

How pitiful.

“We’ve seen it about fifty times already,” he laughs.

“Yeah,” I laugh too.

Ugh.

“Well, have a good break then,” I shrug and head for the door, but he grabs my arm, stopping me, roughly pressing my body against his.

“Wait, one more kiss,” he mummers, his mouth against mine.

“That’s what you said last time and look what happened,” I laugh, already sliding my hands back into his pants.

I make it through the overture, but ten minutes into the first act I can’t take it anymore. He was right; we’ve seen this play far too many times.

I excuse myself as I slide past Mom and Dad, their eyes so proud of Gracie that they don’t even notice. Funny thing is, she hasn’t even come on stage yet!

I wander aimlessly, convincing myself not to go down
his
hallway. All I want to do is sit outside his office door and replay my favorite moments of us over and over again. I know I can’t stoop that low, so I purposely go the opposite way, enjoying the half lit corridors, admiring the peace and quiet that is
my
MTHS.