IT WAS the right thing to do, walking away from Summer tonight. These last couple of weeks, I was trying my damnedest to throw up walls, doing my best to avoid her. When that didn’t work, I’d fuck her without feeling. Using her as if she’s nothing to me. I wouldn’t look her in the eyes, wouldn’t say the shitty things I usually do. Those words she feeds off of.
I feed off them too. I feed off her. Her greedy sounds and the way she kisses me. How she gobbles up my dick, and she’s always so wet for me. Every time I sink into her welcoming body I think how perfect she is. As if she were made just for me.
She’s not. She doesn’t really belong to me. Despite the need for little Summer Savage that pumps in my veins, settles in my dick, we can’t last. She’s like the worst craving. Driving me to desperation, always ready—no, fucking eager—for that next hit.
It was difficult, going to her yet keeping myself removed. Fucking her as if she didn’t mean anything to me. Using her without any emotion, good or bad. She could tell something was wrong. I saw it in her eyes, in the way she’d watch me. She closed herself off too. She’s good at that.
So am I. We both are.
The idea that what we had was almost over always lingered in the back of my brain, and I wasn’t ready. Who’s ready to give up on the best sex they’ve ever had? I have a connection with that girl. I can’t describe it, but it’s there. It’s always been there, from the very beginning. When we first met at the age of fourteen.
I knew I couldn’t keep fucking her. Spending time with her. I’d want her more.
More and more and more.
She’s something I can’t have. Yet she’s the one who said she didn’t want to do it anymore. I pushed her away and she knew it. My Savage is so much smarter than I give her credit for. She beat me to the fucking punch. I’m the one who got dumped in this situation.
We’re over.
I return to my room and shed my clothes, climbing into bed and reaching for her journal, where I last left it on my bedside table. I haven’t read it in weeks. Reading her entries keeps her in my head, and lately that was the last place I wanted her. She’s burrowed deep, and I want her out.
Gone.
Yet here I sit, holding her journal, going to the secret entries near the back. I know now that Yates fucked her, and it left her an emotional mess. I don’t want to read about that anymore. I don’t want to know exactly what he did to her, or how much it ruined her. She’s damaged goods, I know this, but fuck.
So am I.
Maybe that’s why we’re drawn to each other. We’ve seen and done so much for being so young. I’m jaded as fuck, and so is Summer. But to really be with her…
Would send my mother into a complete fit and my father would tell me I’m fucking crazy. Which I am.
I know this.
Why the hell am I so drawn to the one girl I shouldn’t want? Why?
I toss the journal across the room. It hits the wall with a loud splat, dropping to the floor. I can’t read it any longer. Reading her words leaves her haunting my thoughts. She’s already in them enough.
I need to find someone else. My father said I should fuck around as much as I can before I make things serious with Leticia. Once I’m with her, once it’s public and we become engaged, I have to act like the faithful fiancé. The perfect future husband. Keep up the pretense for as long as I can stand it. Once we make a couple of babies, maybe even before that, all bets are off. As long as I’m discreet, I can have as many affairs as I like. Even if Leticia finds out, she’ll understand. This is how it’s done. Leticia knows what she’s getting herself into, just like I do.
My life is mapped out. There will be no surprises. Nothing unusual. Hell, my father recently received a report from Leticia’s gynecologist, informing him that she’s still a virgin, and everything appears in good shape—Father’s exact words. She’ll give me plenty of children, he said with a laugh.
He had her examined—like an animal. Fucking unreal.
Frustration ripples through me and I close my eyes, trying to focus on something else. Anything else but my fucked-up future. I’ve been consumed with arranging everything for that stupid party. The only reason I’m doing it is for Sylvie. She wanted to celebrate Halloween so badly, as if it will be her last one.
All I care about is getting fucked up, especially after tonight.
The party is happening in mere days, and while I’m disappointed I can’t have the girl I want, I can find someone else Halloween night, and hopefully I’ll fuck Summer Savage right out of my system.
Once and for all.
