I slide my arm under her waist and lift her up so I can place her back against the passenger-side window. Pushing up her skirt, I spread her legs wide open and marvel at the sight of her. She’s perfectly shaved with a small landing strip of dark hair that ends at the top of her slit.

“I prefer Tristan,” I say, flashing her my crowd smile.

She whimpers like a kitten in pain, her hips writhing against me as I devour her slowly and methodically. She tastes like the frozen yogurt I smeared all over her.

“Oh, Tristan,” she moans and I hook my arms tightly around her thighs to steady her as her legs begins to tremble. “Oh, my fucking God!”

I suck gently as her clit pulsates against my tongue. She lets out a loud cry that sounds like a sigh mixed with a scream. I can’t help but smile as I continue to stimulate her until she grabs chunks of my shoulder-length hair and yanks me up.

“Holy shit,” she breathes as she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me on top of her.

But she doesn’t kiss me. She just holds me there and I quickly begin to feel uncomfortable with this closeness. I start to push away, but she tightens her grip.

“Please don’t move,” she begs, and I can hear something strange in her voice – she’s crying.

I lie still with her for a while until I no longer hear her sniffling. I slowly pull my head back to look her in the eye and she quickly wipes at the moisture on her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

I grab her hand and pull it away from her face. “It’s okay,” I murmur, brushing my thumb over her cheekbone.

“No, it’s not,” she says, a hard edge to her voice as her hands reach down to undo the button and zipper on my jeans. “But it will be.”

She pushes my boxers down until my dick springs free and I suck in a sharp breath as it comes in contact with her.

“I don’t have a condom.”

My hair hangs around my face as I hover over her. She reaches up and pushes my hair back as she pulls my mouth to hers. I groan as I try to resist making such a stupid mistake. Despite the rumors, I don’t have unprotected sex. I may be a whore like my mother, but I’m not as reckless as she is.

I try to pull my face back, but Senia holds my head still. Suddenly, I’m royally pissed off. I tear myself from her grasp and glare at her.

“This is just a fuck. Nothing more,” I insist and her eyebrows scrunch together. A sharp pang of regret twists inside my chest. “I’m sorry.”

Why the fuck am I apologizing?

“Then shut up and fuck me,” she says, tightening her legs around my hips. The tip of my cock presses against her opening.

I slide in slowly, watching as she closes her eyes and tilts her head back. Leaning forward, I suck on her throat as I gradually ease myself further inside her with each stroke.

“You’re tight as fuck,” I whisper as I carefully work my way deeper inside.

She doesn’t respond, so I keep thrusting, slowly at first then working my way up to a steady pace. I pull my head back to see her face and her eyes are still closed. I don’t know why, but I want to see her eyes.

“Look at me,” I command, and she opens her eyes instantly, her gaze finding mine.

Her eyes are slightly red and that’s when I notice the tear tracks running from the corners of her eyes, down her temple, and disappearing into her dark hair. A strange urge overcomes me and I lean down and kiss her temple. Licking my lips, the saltiness of her tears turns me on even more. I ease my hand behind her knee and lift her leg higher so I can thrust deeper.

She whimpers as she threads her fingers through my hair and pulls my mouth to hers. I kiss her slowly, matching the rhythm of my hips to the movement of our tongues. She bites my top lip and I feel myself getting so close to blowing my load.

“God damn,” I whisper as I try to pull my head back, but she holds my head still and kisses me deeply as I let go inside her.

My dick twitches as I fill her with my gushing warmth. I grunt into her mouth and she continues to kiss me, swallowing my cries the way I did hers. Finally, I tilt my head back and look her in the eye. Then I ask her a question I haven’t asked anyone since I broke up with Ashley four years ago.

“Who was that on the phone?”

Chapter Two

Twelve Years Ago

I can hear her voice coming from the living room and I don’t want to come out of my bedroom. She’s so loud. I don’t know why she always has to yell. She yells at me, at Grandma, and it won’t be long before she starts yelling at Molly. Molly’s only a baby. She doesn’t know nothing about Elaine.

I don’t call her Mom unless we’re in the same room, and she’s hardly ever here. Grandma takes care of Molly and me after school and whenever Elaine doesn’t feel good – and that’s a lot. Why is Elaine already back here? Tonight, we’re spending the night at Grandma’s so Elaine can be with her friends. I don’t remember a lot of stuff that happened before we moved here to Raleigh a few months ago. But I do remember that I hate Elaine.

“Where’s the fucking check? I know it came yesterday!” Elaine shouts at Grandma.

I can’t stay in this bedroom. I have to protect Grandma. I slide off the bed and trudge across the grayish-blue carpet. Opening the bedroom slowly, Elaine’s shouting gets louder.

“It hasn’t come! And where are you going dressed like that?” Grandma shouts back, but her shouting doesn’t sound like her daughter’s shouting.

Grandma’s voice is soothing and strong, but it’s not harsh like Elaine’s. I hate Elaine’s voice.

I step into the living room and Elaine is wearing a dark-red dress that looks more like a sweater. It only covers her to the top of her legs and her black boots come up over her knee. She isn’t dressed for the snow, which is probably why Grandma asked her why she’s dressed like that.

“Where the fuck do you think I’m going, to get a fucking ice cream?” Elaine laughs and Grandma’s round face scrunches up in disappointment.

Elaine’s dark hair is messily flipped over to one side of her head. I didn’t inherit her dark hair. Mine is light brown, probably like the sperm donor. That’s what Grandma calls my father. I’ve never met him, but I think that’s because Elaine doesn’t know who he is. When I was seven, she told me that she wished she’d had an abortion. I didn’t know what that was until I looked it up in the dictionary. That was two years ago. That was when I started calling her Elaine.

“You should take Tristan to get ice cream,” Grandma insists as Elaine digs through her big brown purse.

“It’s fucking snowing,” Elaine replies with a chuckle. “He can go outside and scoop some snow into a cup.”

The blonde girl standing next to Elaine lets out a low, rumbling laugh. I don’t recognize this girl. Elaine’s always bringing different girls to our house and Grandma hates it when she brings them here, ever since one of them threw up on her carpet. This girl looks younger than the other girls Elaine usually brings home, maybe sixteen or seventeen. Her eyes are covered in dark make-up and her mouth hangs open, making her look a little stupid.

The blonde looks at me and her top lip curls up. “We should take him to get ice cream. I need some ice cream.”

Elaine glances at me then she goes back to digging through her purse. “Fine. We’ll get a fucking ice cream. At least it’s too fucking cold outside for it to melt. Last thing I need is for him to make a mess all over Sadie’s car.”

“I don’t want ice cream,” I say as I scoot closer to Grandma.

That’s when Molly starts to cry. She has a fever and Grandma has been fussing over her all night ever since Elaine brought us over here. Maybe I should pretend to have a fever.

Grandma pats me on the back. “Go with your mom, Tristan. I have to take care of Molly.”