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“Fuck, I can’t hold it.” Cole came with a shudder, groaning against my neck. Tanner lasted a few more thrusts and then he finished with a low growl, spasming inside me.
I rested my head against Tanner’s shoulder and closed my eyes. My ass was sore, like my poor abused pussy, but my body still thrummed with pleasure. I was dimly aware of Cole murmuring things to Tanner, and then a gentle hand rinsed away the mess between my legs, soothing my sore flesh.
When I was clean, Tanner carried me out of the shower and wrapped my body in a fluffy towel. The two guys murmured things to each other, but I paid no attention. They dried me off and placed me in Tanner’s bed. He wrapped his muscular body around me and pulled the covers up over both of us. Then someone switched the lamp off and darkness fell.
Had midnight come and gone yet? I tried to remember. If it was, then it was officially Christmas Day. I smiled as I drifted off to sleep.
Eva
Christmas Day, 3 years ago
It was early; the room was still dark. I blearily opened my eyes, wondering what had woken me up. Brent stumbled in through the bedroom door, stinking of booze. The illuminated numbers on the clock beside my bed told me it was 4:17 AM.
Today was Christmas Day. Not that it meant anything to me. Not any more. After Gran died, we hadn’t celebrated Christmas. Occasionally, the kind ladies from the Christian Mission dropped a gift off, but once I hit my teens, they stopped coming. I guessed they thought I was too old to believe in Santa.
They were right.
I’d lost faith the year Dad threw the one and only gift I’d received, a cheap plastic doll, in the mud, screaming at me to fuck off and leave him alone. All I’d done was ask him if there was any food to eat. I was nine-years-old and too young to cook.
Brent muttered and stumbled over the thin rug at the bottom of my bed. This was the first time he’d behaved less than impeccably. Since he’d taken me in, he’d been mostly kind.
There was something about him I didn’t trust, but since I had nowhere else to go, I was stuck with him. Once I finished high school and got offered a place at college, I was leaving.
I had plans.
I loved children, and I desperately wanted to be a teacher.
Most of my teachers growing up had ignored the signs things weren’t right at home, but one, Miss Delaney, had tried her best to make things better for me. She used to bring extra lunch, so I didn’t go hungry. New shoes and a coat in winter to protect me from the cold, and she always had a kind word for me. When she moved away, I cried for days.
If I was a teacher, I would care for kids like me. The children who slipped through the cracks. The kids nobody else cared about. But to do that, I needed a college education. I wasn’t the cleverest kid in my year, but I wasn’t stupid either.
I worked hard, and I was motivated. Going to college was my dream. I just needed to stay quiet and avoid provoking Brent, so he continued to give me a home. One day soon, I would be out of here.
That day could not come soon enough.
“Is everything OK?” I asked, trying to maintain a soft, non-antagonistic tone. I hoped the only reason he was in my room was because he was drunk and had lost his way somehow. My father often got in a state like this. He, too, had lost his way a few times.
“Iss your birthday in two days,” he slurred.
“Yes, I’ll be 15,” I replied. Not that I planned to celebrate it. I rubbed my eyes. Why was he here? I wanted to go back to sleep.
“Soon be old enough,” he chuckled. I frowned. Did he mean he wanted me to leave? God, if he did, I was fucked. He slumped down on the bed and grinned at me. It looked more like a Halloween mask in the light cast by moonlight shining through a crack in the blind.
I shivered, rubbing the goosebumps on my arms. The thin nightdress I wore did nothing to disguise my breasts. Brent’s eyes dipped lower, and he licked his lips. I’d never felt afraid in his house before, but I was now horribly aware of how little power I had.
Brent was a cop. The town folk had all cooed about how kind and charitable he was, taking in the poor trailer trash girl whose father had drunk himself to death. What a nice guy he was, they said. Not many guys would do such a nice thing, they said. How lucky I was, they told me.
Was I lucky, though?
Brent had been acting weird lately. Late-night phone calls and secret smiles when he thought I wasn’t looking. It felt like he had something planned. The affable guy who smiled a lot was missing. The man who slouched on my bed and looked at my body with lascivious intent in his eyes wasn’t kind at all. He was calculating and cruel.
“Maybe you should get some sleep.” My voice wobbled a little. “It’s Christmas Day, and Mrs Hanson invited us over for dinner.”
Mentioning Mrs Hanson seemed to break through Brent’s drunken trance. He shook his head and rubbed a hand over his eyes.
“Yesh, you’re right, I need…sleep.” He pushed his massive body back off the bed and stumbled back out of my room. I heard him use the bathroom, followed by a crash as he fell into his own room. Then silence.
It was still early. I had plenty of time to catch some more sleep, but sleep never came.
