Page 56 of The Cruelest Kind of Hate
CALISTA
Ican’t believe I actually thought Gage was gonna drop the L-bomb on me. God, I’m stupid. We’ve only known each other for two months. I should be relieved, right? So why does it feel like my heart’s tied into a fisherman’s knot?
The game hasn’t even started and I’m on my second drink. I want to forget about tonight. I want to forget about the disappointment that Gage and I will never be anything more than friends. Not when my family still depends on me, and not when my self-preservation instincts are programmed to protect me from further heartbreak.
I’ve wanted to be just friends for so long—no strings attached, no memories to be reminisced. But now, I’m beginning to think that maybe I was wrong. Now, I’m beginning to wonder how different my life could be if I stopped fighting love.
Gage’s housemates and their significant others have gathered around a large coffee table, and I guess it’s apparently tradition for them to play some big drinking game every once in a while. Faye and Kit are snuggled on the adjacent couch together, with his hand draped protectively over her belly. I recognize Aeris from class, and the blonde she’s been glued to at the hipmust be the boyfriend she was talking about. But aside from them, I’m an outsider to the group. An outsider who just so happens to be matching with their beloved goalie.
“Everyone, this is Cali. Cali, this is everyone,” Gage introduces, to which I wave a meek hand.
It takes about a good five minutes for me to place names to faces, but I know that Hayes is Aeris’ vampire-bitten boyfriend, Josie and Casen are the matching skeletons, Bristol is the football player, Fulton is the nerd, and Faye and Kit are the avocado toast combo.
Gage has his arm dangling over my shoulder in a very couple-y manner, and I’m so close to him that whenever he laughs—which is a lot, considering he’s as drunk as a skunk—the breadth of his chest shakes my entire body. Not only is he my own personal heater, but the proximity allows me a preview of those taut abs and the path of hair disappearing below the band of his ivy undergarment.
There’s something very wrong with me tonight. I’m horny as hell. Whenever Gage looks at me, I practically purr like a cat in heat. The whole half-naked thing really does it for me, and I know Eve should not sin, but would it be acceptable if Adam was looking like a five-course meal?
I want to slip away from the group and take him into the bathroom. I want to get on my knees on the cold tiles of the floor and take his gigantic dick in my mouth, sucking him down only halfway because he’ll definitely be too long for me to swallow. His meaty girth will stuff the pouches of my cheeks, and he’ll thrust into my throat while he braids his hand into my hair and guides me. I want to feel my scalp sting when he underestimates his strength; I want to watch as his half-mast eyes struggle to stay open. I won’t stop until I’m a drooling mess on his throbbing cock—until there are tears in my eyes and they shower my face. My nose will be squashed against his trimmed thatch ofpubes, inhaling the masculine scent of his sweat and musk, and when he unloads in my mouth, I’ll gulp everything he gives me?—
“Cali, it’s your turn,” a voice interjects, and I slowly come back down to earth to find a horde of eyes waiting for me to speak.
“Sorry, I zoned out,” I apologize, an inferno of heat amassing in my cheeks. “What are we playing?”
“Never Have I Ever,” Gage whispers, squeezing the cap of my shoulder and unknowingly delivering a series of pleasured pulses to my cunt.
“Right, uh…” The swallow I take chafes my throat, but the penetrating stares disallow me an interval of time to drink from my cup. “Never have I ever…gone skinny dipping.”
A few of the people around the circle drink, as well as Gage, and I get this jealous twinge in the bottom of my belly—one that I definitely didnotinvite to the party.
Of course Gage has gone skinny dipping. If you have the goods, show them off. Did he go skinny dipping with a girl? Did they fuck in a lake? Did she get to feel him bare as he slid into her? Was he in love with her?
Oh my God. I sound like a crazy person. Why do I care so much? Gage and I aren’t together. Gage is a handsome, talented, young NHL player who probably has boatloads of women throwing themselves at his feet.
He’s not mine.
Aeris goes next, her plastic vampire fangs glinting underneath the low light, and the messy patches of glitter on her skin occasionally catch the ochre refractions splicing across the floorboards. “Never have I ever…been arrested!”
Surprisingly, nobody drinks. Except for Gage.
His throat undulates with each swallow, his hair a storm of umber locks that spill down his temples.
“You’ve been arrested?” I ask in shock.
He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “Yep. I stole a llama from a petting zoo once when I was really drunk.”
“We’re not going to have a repeat of that tonight, are we?”
Gage showcases a double-dimpled smile as he bops me on the nose with his finger. “Nope, because you’re gonna look out for me.”
And I thought sober Gage was annoying.
“Ugh, get a room!” Kit shouts, a bunch of laughter rioting from the group. The boisterous noise of overlapping voices seems to drown out the rest of the party, and everyone’s too distracted to eavesdrop on the barefaced filth that exits Gage’s lips.
“I wouldn’t mind getting a room,” he says, nose running the length of my neck, his mouth just barely grazing my sweaty skin.
Oh, no. Stay strong, Cali. My thighs wham together like magnets, hoping to redirect the pressure in my pussy, and I feel a hint of moisture seep through the bikini bottom of my costume, a preface for the waterfall that’s just waiting to flood the dam. The worst part is that Gage is so drunk I don’t think he even realizes what he’s doing to me.
Fulton pipes up beside us. “Never have I ever…cheated on a test!” he announces enthusiastically.
