Page 56 of Peaches

“Every guy thinks I’m crazy for going out with you, Grace, but fuck, I just can’t help myself,” he moans as his lips suck just above my bra line and he attempts to force the fabric of my dress lower.

“Wait, what?” I ask, through rushed breaths, his admittance throwing cold water on any flame that was attempting to just spark inside me.

“Forget about it, Grace,” he mumbles as his hand snakes around to the front of my body and he tries to pry at the seam of my panties.

I’m not going to lie, I’m not even close to anything that resembles the word wet. Hell, his spit would probably dry if he attempted to use it as lube, that’s how much I find myself suddenly “not interested” in a guy I’ve been forcing myself to be into for the last year.

Why? I guess you can say it’s all in the meaning of those few words.Wanted. Desired. Cherished.A craving so strong it’s like a drug, messing with my head and making me do things I know I shouldn’t.

Grabbing ahold of his wrist, he stills, but not before releasing an exaggerated sigh and tilting his head back in annoyance.

“Don’t be such a tease, Grace. Guys don’t wait around 10 months for pussy they’re not going to get, one way or another.”

I should be pissed off at his statement, I should be irate at his last four words, but all I can think of is what he said just a few moments before, about his friends calling him crazy, whatever the hell that is about.

“Why don’t people think you should date me?” I ask sounding a little fragile, and I hate myself for it.

He tries to hide the truth with a smile as he says, “well, for starters, you’re a sophomore, and I’m graduating in the spring.”

“And for seconds?” I demand.

“I’ll be going off to college, there will be lots of girls who wouldn’t mind a good fuck.”

I roll my eyes at him, but I still don’t release my grip on his hand, or my inkling that there could be more to his story, as I continue to press him to tell me the truth. Tommy’s always had a foul mouth and a sick sense of humor, so I let his second statement slide, much like his first one as well, when I know I shouldn’t.

“But, why would that make you crazy?”

“Shit, babe, you really going to make me spell it out?” I look at him, hurt hanging in my eyes for something he hasn’t even admitted to yet. “Look, I really like you. Honest. But any guy that gets involved with you knows he’s going to have a hard time swallowing the baggage that comes with it.”

My brows knit together in a tight angered line. “I’m baggage?” I spit out in a whisper, slightly leaning back away from his frame. That is, I lean back as much as the steering wheel will allow me to.

“Youcomewith baggage, Grace,” he sighs, evidently annoyed having to tell me something he believes I should already be aware of. “Your handicapped brother, the rumors around town about your mom, your deadbeat dad that bailed. Hell, all of us know whoever steps in will be forced to pick up your families’ discarded pieces. It takes a different kind of guy to not give a fuck. To want you any ways…”

“And you’re telling me that’s you?”

He doesn’t answer, just stares back at me almost in fear. I can see the hesitation in his eyes, and I know he’s wondering if he should lie, but a smile breaks across his face and he leans in closer once again.

“I’m the guy that wants this pussy, more than I’ve ever wanted one before,” he whispers, as he pulls me closer, nestles his face against my neck, and trails his finger between us, attempting to feel up my seam.

“Tommy,” I purr, as I close my eyes and force myself to try and be into the moment between us. He’s right, I do have baggage, and I have a guy who is willing and wanting right here, right now, begging for a piece of me I have never given anyone before. Something and someone, I’m afraid to admit, I may never get the chance to have again. At least not for a long time. “You know I’ve never…”

“I’ll teach you, babe,” he whispers, for maybe the millionth time in our relationship as he’s forced himself and what he wants on me. He leans into my neck and whispers, “you give me this,” he groans, as he finally succeeds in pulling back the seam of my underwear and greedily finding his prize. The intrusion hurts more than it gives me pleasure and I pull back in pain. “I’ll stay, Grace. I’ll be there to pick up whatever fucked up pieces I have to, so long as you always give me whatever the hell I want. And right now, I want to fuck you. Your choice, babe,” he grates out, as his face pulls back from my neck and his eyes lock with mine.

His hips grind up against my very closed off and dry sex, and I know I shouldn’t do it. A small piece inside screams I deserve better. I deserve more than his manipulative words filled with borderline hate in the cab of his truck for my first time. But I’m scared. So damn scared he’s telling the truth, it hurts.

“Now or never, Grace. I’m done playing games. You’ll never find someone again that’s as eager to stick around, even if youdoput out.” His mouth grazes my chest as he forces my shirt low and this time, I let him. In my silence I sit with an inner debate, knowing I’m loosing with each passing second. Not because of the way my body is responding to his, but because of the words my heart fears are true coming out of his mouth.

I’m in a trance. A nightmare. Confused and trying to grab a hold of the reality through his lies. A reality that is quickly slipping.

He fumbles between us with his zipper, and I barely notice until he’s pulling my panties aside and positioning himself at my opening. I pull back with startled eyes and the scream rises up in my throat. But before I can tell him no, before I can push him away, he clasps his hand over my mouth and pushes up quickly, forcing his length inside my tight walls and making me yell out against his palm.

His free hand quickly snakes to the back of my head as he holds me in a death grip and attempts to force his length further inside me. My moistureless, tight, virgin sex not letting him get what he wants.

“Stay still!” He commands, and I hadn’t even noticed I was moving as I suddenly realize I am clawing at his hands, trying to push off his hips and free myself from something I know now, without any doubt, I don’t want. “I told you, Grace.One way or another. You give me what I want. I give you want you need. You’ll never find someone who’s as willing, so stop fucking fighting.”

My eyes squint shut as I become paralyzed, and my tears quickly fall. He forces himself up, and a razor-sharp searing pain tears through my walls. I cry a little harder against his hand as he pulls out before quickly forcing himself inside me again.

“Take it, Grace. All of it.”

---