Don't Say You're Sorry (Hawthorne University #2)

by Bethany Winters

“I’m gonna fuck you bare,” he says, reaching into the drawer to grab the lube. “Okay?” “Yes,” I rasp.

I’m wearing nothing but his T-shirt, covered in his saliva and cum, and it makes me feel both filthy and hot as fuck. It makes me feel like his.

I curse and maneuver myself until I’m where he wants me. Ass up, my cheek smushed against the pillow, my wrists tied behind my back. He’s going to ruin my insides in this position. I can’t fucking wait.

“You think I still love you?” he asks, his tongue gliding across my throat. “I know you do.” “How’s that?” “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. Not after what I did.”

He stops abruptly, licking his lips as he looks down at the pool of precum on my abs. It’s as if he can’t decide whether he wants to fuck the cum out of me or suck it out of me. A few seconds go by, and then he’s pulling out and dropping down on his back, grabbing my hips and helping me straddle him. Fuck it out of me, it is.

I smile and bury my face into his neck. Still inside me, he teases my sides with his knuckles as we catch our breaths, our hearts beating rapidly. Being here, in his arms…it feels like home. I’m finally home.

I pull the lollipop from my pocket and hold it out in front of him. “Will you go on a date with me?” He blinks. At me, then at the lollipop. After a long, torturous moment, he lets out a little laugh. But he’s not laughing at me. He’s laughing because he’s happy, and it lights me up with pride. I did that. “Is that a yes?” I ask impatiently. “You’re killing me here.” He grins, taking the lollipop from my hand. “Yes, baby. I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Get off me!” she screams, hitting my chest with her fists. “Who’s Adam?” I freeze at the sound of his name, slowly pulling my hands away from her body. All the color drains from my face as I look down at her. “Where did you hear that name?” “I heard you talking to him on the phone last night. Telling him you miss him. Begging him to come back to you. Who is he?”

Wiping his fingers on his jeans, he takes the card and does a double take at it, his eyes snapping up to mine. First, there’s relief there—he must have thought he lost it—but it’s quickly replaced with confusion and dread when he sees the look on my face.

This will break him. Me. It’ll break us all over again.

Hours pass. The sun is long gone, the room clouded in darkness. All that remains is me, Easton, and the boy I broke talking to me through the phone.

“Not a day went by when my heart didn’t ache for you as much as yours did me,” I tell him. “It still aches for you now, even when you’re right here in front of me.” We breathe deeply, our mouths brushing every time one of us moves. “Kiss me,” I say. “Make me.” It’s the loudest yes I’ve ever heard.

“Just you and me,” I whisper. He nods. “Just you and me, baby.”

“I thought about you doing that to me all night.” “Kissing you or spitting in your mouth?” “Both.”

“Fuck my heart! Do you know what Adam leaving did to Easton? Do you know how many times I caught him staring into space, missing the boy you sent away?”

“You never know when to shut up.” “You remember how to make me?” Axel laughs cruelly. “You couldn’t handle me anymore, love.” “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that, straight boy?”