Things I Wanted to Say (Lancaster Prep #1)

by Monica Murphy

I remember the first time I saw him. He didn’t notice me, which was what I preferred. That way, I could stare at him unabashedly, fascinated with the bone structure of his face, the way he moved, how he never smiled.

We were much younger then. Innocent? I don’t think you could ever use that word to describe either of us. We’d seen and done too much, that by the time we met again, we were too far gone to stop it. Stop us.

Despite my being disgusted, Yates’s dogged pursuit of me also left me feeling wanted. And there’s power in knowing that someone wants you.

“I think you like it.” The smirk is still there and when he presses his lower body against me, I can feel something else.

“Come on. Your mom is my dad’s whore. You could be mine too.”

I think he likes it. I sort of like it too. His strength. How I’m too weak to break free. What does this say about me? I’m sick. Twisted. Weird.

I’ve always had what I call ‘the darkness.’ I’ve never met someone who acts like he has it too.

I remember how he made me feel. His cruel words, his brutal kiss. I’ve been chasing after that feeling ever since.

others make me yearn for the old times, when I was still young and innocent and believed there were good people in the world.

I have all sorts of secrets. And every single one of them is awful.

I realize I’m literally face to face with the fallen angel of my dreams. The devil of my nightmares. Whit Lancaster. Who’s staring at me as if he’s seen a ghost.

I hate him. I do. But I’m drawn to him, too. The pull is there, tugging me closer to him, and I wonder if he feels it too.

Despite everything he’s done and said, you like the idea of being with him. You crave what he can give you.

“I think you’d like it if I wrapped my hands around your throat and choked the life out of you. Knowing I was the last face you ever saw.”

“My pretty little whore. You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

I hate myself for wanting it. For wanting him.

“Don’t ever speak to Summer Savage again, do you hear me? If I see you so much as look in her direction, I’ll slice your balls off and feed them to you.”

“She’s not a bitch,” I tell him as he heaves, his body bent so he can’t look at me. He probably doesn’t want to either. The coward. “You’re the little bitch who can’t handle her.”

My thoughts are riotous. Filled with Summer. What else is new? I hate that she’s all I think about. I’m a man obsessed. One would think I’d get used to the feeling, considering I’ve been obsessed with her since I was fourteen. Yet my thoughts of her haven’t waned over the years whatsoever. She’s always been there, lingering in the back of my mind, haunting me at the strangest times, or when I least expect it.

Life is one big game, and I’m too young to give in. I can’t lose. Not yet.

Whit always reminds me of the statues in the campus gardens. Beautiful. Perfect. Cold. Heartless. Seeing him now, the untouchable god among us peons, broken…bleeding. Human.

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day, Savage,”

But he pulls at something that’s deep within me. Something I don’t understand. He makes me feel.

“You came back.” “I shouldn’t. You’re a complete dick.” He laughs. “My charm won you over.”

“Just as pretty as I imagined,” he murmurs,

I am not ashamed of my body. It’s been used, and I’ve used it. Right now, it’s a weapon of mass destruction, and Whit is my target. I’m fully prepared to decimate him.

“I like it.” His smoldering gaze meets mine. “Your confidence is a surprise, Savage. I like that too.”

“I think you’d get off on that,” he says quietly. “Me holding you down, my giant dick between your lips. You sucking me off. I bet you’d drink every last drop.”

What would it be like, to have this boy’s heart? I wonder as I slowly drift off to sleep. Impossible, is what I tell myself.

“You’re stunning, do you know that?” His voice softens

“You try to hide it, but there’s no use. You’re fucking beautiful, and it frustrates the shit out of me, Savage.”

“Do I scare you?” he whispers. Deciding to be truthful, I nod. “Good,” he breathes across my lips, his mouth so close to mine, I can feel it move when he talks. “Because you scare me too.”

“Too loud, Savage,” he whispers. “Might have to muzzle you if you keep that up.”

“Why am I so drawn to you?” I don’t think he’s really asking me this. More like he’s questioning himself. And I don’t have an answer. “Make me stop.”

I want him all over me. Inside me. I want to feel him come. I want to watch his face when it happens. I want to know what he looks like when he loses control, and I want to know I’m the one who pushes him to his absolute limits.

“Maybe I shouldn’t give it to you. Maybe it’s all about me tonight.” He leans down and presses his mouth against mine in a feather soft kiss. “I’m a selfish bastard. I love nothing more but to take and take. It’s the Lancaster way. I could make you give me head again. You’d do it. I know you would.”

Somehow, even though we hate each other, it’s as if we’re a perfect match.

But now she’s my whore, and I don’t share.

What Whit and I share isn’t normal. I don’t know how to define it. I also didn’t know you could feel so much, being with someone you hate. Become aroused by someone who says such horrible things. It’s as if he has complete control over my body, how it responds, and I’m not mad about it. Not at all. It’s as if I crave him.

I remind myself of the girl I was two years ago. Chasing dreams and running from nightmares. I’m still that girl. Though my dreams are all gone and the nightmares are always just behind me.

“You’re such a good girl,” he practically croons, his mouth brushing against mine as he speaks. “So agreeable when you want to be. Always defiant though, when you feel cornered.”

She brings them all out. Every single dark thing that lives inside me bubbles to the surface when I’m with her. I want to hurt her. I want to soothe her. I want to taste her. I want to be inside of her. I want to consume her. Make her mine and no one else’s. Primal, unfamiliar urges course through me, heating my blood, making my heart roar.

Her shoulders are hunched, as if she’s trying to disappear inside herself. I see you, I want to say. You can’t hide from me.

All I could think about was consuming her that night. How could I inhale her, keep her, mark her so that no one else would touch her? I didn’t know then, and I don’t exactly know now. I still feel that way, all these years later.

I wanted to make her hurt, because I was in pain and no one saw it. No one ever sees it.

Seems like she has bad memories when it comes to sex. Maybe I could do her a favor. Help wipe away any old memories she shares with that asshole stepbrother of hers, and replace them with me. And her. Us.

He’s a horrible human, but for some reason, it feels like he’s my horrible human.

“If I told you what I really want to do to you right now, you’d run screaming from my room. You’d never want to come back. I’d haunt your nightmares for the rest of your life.”

I wanted this. His mouth on mine. Devouring me. A kiss is intimate. It brings people closer, even strangers. He was the first boy I ever really kissed, and I’ve been addicted to his taste ever since.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he continues, his voice hard. Full of irritation. “You make me insane.”