Page 82 of Burn

Those words provide a momentary relief, and I lean into him, allowing him to support my heavy, tired body. I hear the sound of an exit being opened, one of those doors with a wide bar, and it clanks as it’s pushed. The cool, summer night washes over me, and I suck in a deep breath, my eyes still closed.

I reach up, gripping his jacket and leaning my head into him. A faint odor of cigarettes clings to him, and I breathe deeply, searching for the usual scent that follows Adrian around. It’s not there. I slide my hand up his arm and over his shoulder. It’s lower than it should be. This person is tall, but not as tall as Adrian.

What the hell?

Who the hell?

My back collides with a brick wall, and the air in my lungs rushes out in a whoosh. If he didn’t have such a strong grip on my arms, I’d sink to the ground, my legs unable to support my weight.

Open your eyes.

My brain screams, but it feels like my body is entirely disconnected. A leg slides between mine, pressing up against my core, allowing the man to release one of my arms. He trails his fingers along my collarbone, up my neck, and tilting my chin up. Hot breath slams into me, and the familiar scent roils my stomach. I heave, gagging, and he allows me to double over, the contents of my stomach emptying onto the ground.

When there’s nothing left, and I begin to sag toward the ground, he grabs me again and pulls me upright. I want to believe I’m wrong. The man I’ve allowed to lead me into a dark, isolated part of the property isn’t who I think he is.

My voice is weak when I say, “Adrian?”

The laugh confirms what I dread most, who I dread the most. He repositions me back against the wall, and his voice is too close when he says, “I’m almost offended you brought him here, you know?” He speaks in a slow and deliberate way, ensuring I understand each word. “I bet he doesn’t make you squirm the way I can.”

My mouth falls open, but my tongue won’t move, and my vocal cords make no sound. I feel his thumb against my bottom lip, tugging gently, pulling my lip down. I pull my head back, but it barely moves, not enough to brush him away, and the panic settling into my body causes me to gasp for air.

I can’t breathe.

Can’t scream.

“Do you still taste as good as you did in high school?” he coos. I try to shake my head, but don’t think it moves. “Open your eyes, Morgan.” I ignore the command. “Open your fucking eyes,” he barks at me, his grip tightening to the point of pain.

Forcing my eyes open, just barely, and there are three of him before me. They sway back and forth, overlapping and separating. My head sways, but I feel the fog from earlier start to lift, the halos surrounding the string lights behind Aaron less prominent than when I was in the restroom.

His eyes are wild. They search my face like he’s trying to read my mind. They’re devoid of emotion, and I know it’s pointless, but I try to reason with him anyway. “Don’t do this, please.” My words are less slurred, but my voice is still barely a whisper.

“You know what’s funny?” he says on a chuckle.Nothing. Nothing is funny.“The way you try to act like you’re so prim and proper. As if you didn’t beg me for it then. As if you haven’t been eye-fucking me all night, begging for me again.”

“I didn’t…”

He cuts me off. “Fucking begged for it like a needy whore.”

I flinch; his words feel like a weapon, and I feel his mouth against my neck, sucking and nipping at me. I try to twist away, to squirm out from under his hold, and he grips my chin, crashing his mouth into mine. It’s messy and rough, and I try to keep my mouth closed, but he’s stronger and forces his tongue between my lips. I gag again, my body convulsing against his. He sighs into me. The sound is dreamy, contented, and he pulls back just far enough that I can suck in a deep, stuttered breath.

“Those noises, the way you move, it’s still the same.” His hand slides up my thigh, pushing under the slit in my dress. His fingers are cold and clammy as they connect with the outside of my panties. My body trembles against his touch, and he pulls back with a wide grin. “So hot. So ready for me. I knew you wanted this — wanted me.”

Tears burn behind my eyes, and when he pushes my panties aside and makes contact with the most private part of my body, the first one spills over, searing my cheek as it falls.

“Please,” is all I manage to say before he slides two fingers inside of me.

A choked sound rises up and out of my throat.

“Please, what, Morgan?” He’s breathless as he probes my insides. He straddles my leg, and I can feel the bulge of his erection against me. “You’re so wet.”

I want to scream that it’s not from him, but when I inhale, it’s choked and catches in my throat. He withdraws, pulling his hand out, and sucking his fingers into his mouth, and the movement that makes me weak when Adrian does it makes me irrationally angry.

That is not for him.

I am not for him.

Fight.

His eyes roll back in his head, and he groans before removing his fingers from his mouth and dropping his hand back toward my body.

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