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The sun flickers through the curtains. Cyrus is still asleep, her nightmares and cries for help lasted for hours while I held her small frame. Her tears hitting her pillow spoke to my soul, if only this moment could last a while longer, except it’s nothing more than giving her a false sense of security.
My father thinks he controls my life, she thinks she can just come in and invade my space. My phone vibrates in my pocket, I pull it out and my father’s name flashes on the screen, and I send the call to voicemail. I don’t need him to spout his bullshit this early in the morning. I check my messages instead. Instantly regretting it.
Cuy:How is she?
I text him back. I know he likes her, I can see it in the way he looks at her, but he can’t have what's mine, even if I don’t want her.
Diesel:I thought I made myself clear, she is none of your concern.
Cuy:Stop being a dick, she was messed up last night.
Diesel:I won’t tell you again.
Cuy:Whatever man.
Not even two seconds later, her phone pings on the desk next to the bed. I reach over and see the screen still lit up with a message.
Stud Muffin:Hey beautiful, how you feeling today?
I squeeze her phone so hard, it groans under my assault. He directly disobeyed the rules. Now I understand where my father’s rules come in, without them, everyone will think they can do whatever the fuck they please with no consequences. I’ll make sure Cuy gets the message not to fuck with me. I planned to turn everyone against her, but maybe he can watch her fall in love with me, knowing exactly how it will end. He will be expecting me to show my true colours after the weekend. That was the plan, make her think we were all friends with her, and then come Monday, remind her she can’t mess with us. They will both be reminded why it’s best to not mess with me. Cuyler better enjoy the time he has left at the top.
Cyrus snuggles into my side, and I pull her closer. I like knowing that I was here to protect her from her nightmares. She whimpers in her sleep and mumbles a lot about needing help. Her trauma excites me, and that pisses me off because my father turned me into a monster. What kind of person preys on someone's weaknesses and enjoys building them up just to crush them all over again? I’m a sick bastard, and my father will be counting on me to do it again, and like a damn puppet, I will.
My phone flashes, and my mum’s name pops onto the screen. I sigh because I know my father is making her call me, and I never avoid her calls.
“No, Mum, I wasn’t avoiding his calls, I’m just a bit busy right now...Mum, seriously that isn’t appropriate to ask your son...ew, I do not want to know that you and my father still have frequent sex...well just tell him to call me later...ok, yes, I love you too, bye.”
Cyrus starts to stir in my arms. She inhales against my skin, causing goosebumps to spread across my flesh, and my cock gets hard at the thought of her breath hitting my skin just before her mouth wraps around my hard cock.
I place my phone down and pull her into me tighter. I know this can’t be real, but I can pretend for a few minutes that I’m normal, that she isn’t messed up, and that we actually like each other. It’s nice to feel wanted, even if it’s nothing but an illusion.
“Sleep well?” I ask, knowing exactly how she slept. I watched her, more than I would admit, wanting her to rest even if it was for a few hours.
“When I did finally fall asleep. Thanks for staying with me.”
“Don’t sweat it, now we need to get dressed.” I say, untangling her body from mine and slipping out of bed.
“I planned to stay in bed all day and mope,” she whines, and I smile. She grins back, and my mind is made up, maybe it is possible for me to have fun with a girl. One who doesn’t give a shit who I am, or who my father is. One who can challenge me and accept me for who I am.
“Not anymore, we’ll have a room full of guys in about five minutes if we don’t get up, and something tells me Cuyler won’t take no for an answer.” My teeth grind together at the sound of his name, regretting using him to get her out of bed.
“I might grab a quick shower first.” She gets out of bed and grabs her shower bag and bath robe.
“Me too.” I say, picking up my shower caddy full of products.
“We can’t shower together.” She mutters, turning so I can’t see the flushed look that has washed over her face at the thought of implying that I want to shower with her. Even though I would in a heartbeat.
“Just because I comforted you last night doesn’t mean I want to fuck you. There is more than one shower in that bathroom,” I snap, and the real Diesel is back.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I just forgot we share a bathroom,” she almost whispers, her cheeks flush red, and I feel like a right asshole.
My father has drilled it into me over the years that feelings are for pussies, and as a defence mechanism, every time I feel a hint of anything, my mouth goes on the defensive.
She scurries from the room, and I grab my shit and quickly follow after her. I know I’m playing a dangerous game with her. This girl has the power to make me feel things that I don’t want to feel, and yet, I will do as I have been trained and pull the rug out from under her when she least expects it. Because my father will ask me too, or if he doesn’t, I will do it to piss him off, so either way, it’s inevitable.
By the time I get to the bathroom, she is already stepping into the shower and pulls the curtain closed. I take the stall next to hers, dumping all my shit onto the rack. I strip down and listen to her as she hums. I’m not sure what song it is, but I find my dick in my hand, stroking myself to the sound of her voice. Pictures of her wrapped around me, the fruity scent of her body wash lingers in the air.
I hang my head as the water cascades over me, imagining her on her knees, her big beautiful blue eyes looking up at me as her pouty full lips wrap around my head. The thought of grasping her hair and thrusting into her mouth sends me over the edge.
