Tell Me You're Sorry (30 page)

Mark slowly swam closer to them. He could hear her moaning now. Dick gently broke away from her and steered her toward him. Selena sort of glided into his arms. Her skin was taut, silky, and wet. Her nipples brushed against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. This was the furthest he'd ever gone with a girl, bare skin touching bare skin. Under the water's surface, his cock was brushing against her thighs. He'd never had these sensations before. He couldn't believe it was really happening. Selena seemed a little out of it. But she kissed him. His lips parted against hers, and for a moment, Mark could pretend they were alone.

Then she pulled back and reached for Dick Ingalls again. He kissed her, and whispered something in her ear. He smirked at Mark and the other two. “Why don't you guys stay here and practice holding your breath underwater or something?” He and Selena started swimming toward the pier. “I'll give you a holler in a few minutes!” he called.

“Shit, I knew he'd get to her first,” Brent muttered.

Mark swam toward deeper water again. He watched as Dick and Selena made their way to the shoreline. He could see them in the distance as they staggered onto the beach. Selena dropped onto the wet sand, and Dick climbed on top of her.

To his annoyance, Brent and Scott swam out near him.

After a few minutes, they heard her cry out.

“Shit, you don't think she's a virgin, do you?” Brent said, treading water.

“Well, if she was, she isn't anymore,” Scott replied.

“I just got to have a piece of that . . .”

“Would you look at them go at it?”

Mark didn't want to look any more. And he didn't want to listen to these jerks. He ducked his head under the lake's surface and started swimming toward the beach. He wobbled over a few stones in the soft, wet sand as he made his way onto the shore. Shivering, he rubbed his arms to fight the chill. He shook off as much water as he could, and then went hunting for where he'd left his boxer shorts.

By the time he found the shorts and put them back on, he noticed Selena and Dick had moved to the pier. He wandered back to where he'd left the rest of his clothes. He found the Jack Daniel's bottle, which Brent or Scott must have brought along. It was about half full. Mark took a gulp, and it warmed him. He still had water in one ear and tried to shake it out.

So much for sex on the beach being really hot,
he thought. He just felt cold, damp, and grubby with sand.

Scott emerged from the lake, looking sort of silly— naked, tottering over the stones along the shore. “Where's the Annie Green Springs?” he asked, out of breath.

Mark wordlessly pointed to where Dick had set down the bottle. Then he glanced over at the pier again. It looked like Brent was on top of her now. Dick stood nearby watching them for a minute, and then he dove off the pier.

“Goddamn it,” Mark said under his breath. He could almost forgive her for letting Dick do what he wanted with her. After all, she had a crush on him. But Brent? Sure, he was good-looking. Still, Mark had thought Selena was better than that. He was so disappointed in her. He wondered if she was doing it with Brent at Dick's urging. Was she really that anxious to please him?

Collecting the wine and some of his clothes, Scott headed toward the pier. He didn't bother putting anything on.

That was when Mark realized Scott was probably next. He'd be bragging about this to his friends in Wisconsin next week.

Brent wouldn't be bragging to anyone—unless it was about how quick he was. He looked like he'd finished after only a couple of minutes. He walked down to the shore and washed himself off with lake water.

Scott moved in on her. Selena sat up for a moment and drank some of the cheap wine. Then she was lying down again, and Scott maneuvered on top of her.

Mark plopped down on the sand and took another swig of Jack Daniel's. He heard water splashing and looked over to see Dick coming up from under the lake's surface. He shook water from his shaggy blond hair and swaggered toward Mark. “Let me have a snort of that,” he said, holding out his hand for the whiskey bottle.

Dick's unshrinkable penis was right at eye level. Rolling his eyes, Mark turned his head away as he passed him the bottle. Dick took a drink, and then sat down on the sand beside him. “You're next,” he said, slapping a wet hand on Mark's shoulder. “She's saving the best for last.”

“I really don't think I'm up for it,” he admitted. “This night didn't exactly turn out like I thought it would.” He glanced over toward the pier again. Scott and Selena were still going at it. About halfway down the beach, Brent was standing naked and peeing into the bushes.

“I told her that you liked her—a lot,” Dick said.

“When did you tell her that? Right after you screwed her?”

“No, stupid, I told her in the car. She was happy to hear it, too. I shit you not. She thinks you're a
real gentleman
.”

“So what?” Mark grumbled. He picked up a stone and hurled it into the lake. “You're the one she's hot for. She's probably doing all this just to please you.”

“Yeah, well, I'm not interested in her anymore. I mean, been there, done that.” He took another swig of whiskey and shrugged. “So I guess it's up to you to help her get over me.”

He nodded toward the pier.

Mark followed his gaze and noticed Scott was standing up now, signaling him. “C'mon, Mark! She's asking for you!” he called.

Mark turned to Dick, who was grinning at him. “You heard the man. She wants you
. . .”

Getting to his feet, he gathered up his clothes—along with Selena's blue dress, her bra, and her panties. Heading toward the pier, he passed Brent Farrell, going in the opposite direction. Brent said something to him. Mark tuned him out.

Dick's friend from Wisconsin was at the shore end of the pier, in his briefs and a T-shirt. His jeans were tucked under his arm. As they passed each other, Scott slapped him on the back.

Mark ignored him and continued down toward the end of the pier, where Selena lay naked. He had every intention of being the
gentleman
she thought he was. But almost involuntarily, he stopped and stared at the beautiful contours of her body, the round breasts and the subtle movement of her flat stomach as she breathed in and out. Trembling, she gazed up at the starlit sky—and then at him. This close, Mark could see her eyes lacked focus. She didn't look like she was having a good time at all. He imagined the concrete beneath her had been rough and cold.

“Are you okay, Selena?” he whispered. He dropped his own clothes, and then showed the dress to her. He swept some of the sand off it. “I brought you your things. You can get dressed if you want. I—I just want you to know, I'm not like those other guys. I really liked you—I still do. And I want to be with you,” he shook his head, “only not this way.”

She sat up, and took another swig of the wine.

Getting down on one knee beside her, Mark tried to hand her the bra and panties. But she didn't take them. Her hand moved to the center of his chest. It was cold and scratchy with sand. Her fingers traced a line down to his navel, then beyond. She tugged at the front of his shorts and kissed him on the mouth.

Mark shuddered gratefully at her touch. She pulled him on top of her. “Are you okay?” he whispered. “Am I squishing you?”

She didn't say anything. Her hands moved up and down his back. She squeezed his buttocks.

He kissed her face while she guided him inside her.

Mark couldn't stop shaking. He hadn't expected this to happen. He was scared—and at the same time, incredibly turned on. “Is this okay?” he whispered in her ear.

She didn't respond. But he thought he heard her crying.

He pulled back to look at her face. She had tears in her eyes, and she was grimacing.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Selena?”

Mark heard someone snicker. He glanced over toward the shore end of the pier and saw Brent Farrell—with his clothes back on. He stood there, watching them. “That's it, nail her, man,” he said.

Mark was about to scream at him to get lost. But suddenly something smacked him along the side of his head. It hurt like hell, and he saw spots. Stunned, Mark tumbled off Selena.

Past a loud ringing in his ear, he could hear her crying again. He realized she'd hit him.

“I'm sorry!” he said automatically. He pulled up his boxer shorts. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

“What the hell's going on?” someone yelled.

Mark reached out for her, but Selena slapped his hand away and started screaming. She leapt to her feet, but lost her balance and fell.

The other three were running down to the end of the pier. Dick had put on his briefs, and he was in front of the other two. “What happened?” he yelled, out of breath. “Selena?”

“Leave me alone!” she shrieked, standing up again. She must have found a small stone on the pier. She hurled it at him. “Stay away!”

“Ah, fuck!” Dick growled, recoiling. He brought his hand up to his forehead.

“What the hell?” Brent yelled. He lunged toward her. He and Scott tried to grab her arms. Naked, she frantically fought them off. She was like a crazy person.

“You're scaring her!” Mark cried. “Just leave her alone!” He tried to pull Brent away from her.

All at once, Selena reeled back and fell off the pier.

Mark heard the splash as her body hit the lake—and almost at the same time, a dull thud.

One of the guys—either Brent or Scott—started laughing. “What the fuck, man?”

Mark bolted to the edge of the pier and gaped down at the water. He didn't see her. A small concrete shelf jutted out from that side of the pier. Mark wondered if she'd hit her head on it. “Selena?” he called. His heart pounded furiously.

He thought he saw some air bubbles come to the lake's silver-black surface. He dove in. It was too dark to see anything underwater, but he hoped maybe her body was white enough that he'd spot her. He blindly swam around under the surface until he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He came up and gasped for air.

From the pier's edge, his three friends numbly stared down at him.

“Do you see her?” Mark yelled, still trying to get a breath.

Scott shook his head. The other two just stood there.

“Jesus, what's wrong with you guys? Help me!” He plunged under the surface again, swimming around the concrete jetty. He thought maybe she'd been knocked unconscious and ended up under the little ledge.

There was a loud splash. Mark came up for air again, and saw Dick had joined in the search. “What happened? What did you do?” Dick asked, treading water.

“Nothing!” Mark cried. “She just freaked out on me . . .” He anxiously looked around. He kept thinking it was way too long for her to stay underwater. She was drowning—if she wasn't dead already.
Please, God
, he thought,
please, let her be okay . . .

Dick ducked his head back under the water and swam around the pier. He finally popped up again. “This is fucking impossible,” he gasped. “Where'd she go?”

Mark kept hoping against hope they'd hear her giggling, and she'd be on the other side of the jetty. He looked up at the other two. “Do you guys see her
anywhere
?”

Scott shook his head.

“Listen, go up to one of those houses and bang on the door. Get them to call the police—an ambulance.”

But neither of them budged. “Jesus, we're screwed,” Brent whispered.

Dick kept searching in the water.

“Would one of you idiots go call the police, for God's sake?” Mark yelled. Then he dove under the surface again. With his hands, he felt around the sides of the pier, trying to find a crevice or niche in which she'd been caught. He felt rough concrete, slimy seaweed, and barnacles. Somehow he knew the search was in vain.

He kept having to stop and bob up for air. On the fifth time up, he swallowed some water and went into a coughing fit. He thought he was going to choke to death. His arms suddenly felt like lead. He tried to stay afloat, but it felt as if something were dragging him down.

Suddenly Dick grabbed him and pulled him toward the shore. “Give it up, man,” he said, panting. “We're never gonna find her . . .”

Mark was still coughing when they reached shallow water. Though he still felt shaky, he managed to stand up. Dick repeatedly slapped him on the back until his lungs cleared and the hacking stopped.

He nodded to his friend, “Thanks.” Then he spotted Brent and Scott waiting for them on the shore. Mark couldn't believe neither one of them had gone for help yet. “We gotta call the police,” he said, as soon as he caught his breath.

Dick shook his head. “We can't. How's it going to look?”

“I don't care how it looks! There's still a chance—”

“If she's in the lake, she's dead. No one could last underwater that long.”

“That's exactly why we have to get the police . . .”

“Calling the cops right now isn't going to save her, Mark. What the cops will find is a dead girl all of us just screwed. They'll figure that out when they examine her body, and they'll think we raped her. They'll think we raped her and killed her. That crazy old man of hers is going to insist we did . . .”

“Let's get out of here, for Christ's sake!” Scott called from the shore.

“We can't just leave,” Mark said.

“Yes, we can,” Brent shot back. “No one's going to miss her.”