Page 39 of Connor

My thoughts stuck on Summer. On the kid growing in her stomach.

I snapped. I grabbed the blonde, shoved her onto her stomach, pinned her wrists to the bed. She moaned, rubbing her cheek against the sheets like she loved being handled. I grabbed the lube from the nightstand, spat in my palm, spread her open, forced my fingers inside her tight hole.

She shivered. Moaned. “God, you’re stretching me—”

I lined up. Shoved inside. And she screamed, her body going rigid, trembling, shaking. And then—finally. That pull. That heat. That goddamn fucking release. I snarled, thrusting deeper, harder, hips slapping against her until she sobbed against the sheets.

“Fuck, you’re breaking me,” she whimpered, clenching, choking on moans.

I barely heard her. Because at that moment—it wasn’t her. It was Summer. It was her body under me, her moans, her gasps,her voice begging me not to stop—“Don’t stop, Connor, please don’t stop—”

My breath hitched. My cock throbbed, burned, ached—And then I was coming. Hard. A violent, mind-numbing explosion that nearly fucking ruined me. For a second, I let myself believe it. For a second, I let myself think it was her. And then, it was gone. And she wasn’t there. I pulled out, ripping the condom off, tossing it in the trash like it meant nothing.

The blonde collapsed, limp, ruined. The brunette whimpered, curling up beside her. “Holy fuck,” she breathed.

I ignored them. Grabbed my jeans and pulled them on. Already fucking running. Because the second my body stopped shaking, the second my head cleared, the truth hit me like a freight train. I could fuck a hundred women like this. Could ruin them, wreck them, bury myself in their bodies, fuck them until my bones ached. And it still wouldn’t be her.

Summer was still there, still under my skin, still wrapped around me like a noose. Because no matter how dirty, no matter how fucking reckless, no matter how much I tried to drown in someone else…

It was still her I wanted. And it always fucking would be. The girl didn’t even react, just stretched out across the mattress like she’d done this a hundred times before. Maybe she had. Maybe she didn’t give a fuck.

Neither did I as I returned to North’s place to find him glaring at me from the porch. He looked pissed. I couldn’t give a shit, and I ignored him as he followed me to the bathroom. I had to wash that bitch’s scent off of me.

The pipes rattled, the water coming out in a weak, rust-tinged stream before turning clear. I stepped under, letting it scald my skin, but I didn’t adjust the temperature. I scrubbed harder than necessary, dragging my hands over my face, across my chest. Like I could wash away the last few hours. Like I couldscrub away the weight of what I’d done. But no matter how much steam filled the tiny bathroom, no matter how raw my skin felt by the time I turned the water off—I still felt fucking filthy.

I dried off quickly, wrapped a towel around my waist, and walked back into the room. North was still fucking there. Still glaring. I couldn’t give a shit about him though, so I pulled out my bag and grabbed a pair of pajamas, not even looking at him as I got dressed.

The silence irritated me though, and I snapped before he did. “Would you just fucking say it?”

“What?” he asked, his voice cold. His stare directed at the ceiling. Prickly fucker. “That you’ve been fucking Vic’s sister? Or that you got her pregnant? No, wait… that’s not it.”

I didn’t reply. He wasn’t looking for one.

“Oh, wait! I got it,” he snapped his fingers, “Maybe it’s the fact that you just ran off and fucked someone else like a fucking pussy? Or the fact that you broke Summer’s heart in my living room? What do you want me to say, Con? Because I don’t have any fucking words for you right now that explain how fucking angry I am right now.”

“I fucked up,” I snarled, throwing my towel into the basket in the bathroom. Quinn was scarier than North on any day. I’d prefer to be on her bad side then his. “I fucking know that, okay? I. Fucked. Up.”

“How long?” he asked, and I swallowed hard.

“We started that summer,” I whispered, sitting next to him. I sighed. My body was exhausted, but my mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up. The mattress dipped beneath my weight. He stayed quiet. “During your party. I didn’t know she was a virgin until after. Vic doesn’t know.”

“For fuck’s sake, Con,” he murmured, shaking his head.

I laughed bitterly, knowing what he meant. There wasn’t anything to say though, so I just stared at the ceiling, listening tothe sound of my own breathing, and then, her voice crept in.I’m not dealing with you when you’re like this. Not after you hurt me.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Tried to get out of my head, but it wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t fucking stop.

It was the way she’d looked at me, standing in that doorway, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. The way her voice shook when she said it.

I’m pregnant.

And the worst fucking part? I believed her. I did. But I couldn’t go back now. I couldn’t take back the things I’d said, the way I’d laughed in her face, the way I’d ripped her apart when she’d given me nothing but the truth.

“Summer’s as much of a little sister to me as she is to Victor,” North continued, his voice rough. “I’m not happy about how you handled it. It’s too much like—”

My heart squeezed. Too much like my father.

“I know.”