Restless, p.10
Restless, page 10
Finn's face also says so, but he nods for me to go.
There's no way around it. I have to go up there with Duncan. Whichever way this is a trap, I have no choice but to let it happen.
I squeeze his hand in reassurance before slowly stepping through the cheering, clapping crowd. It feels like I'm walking to my death.
I stroll over to Duncan, who looks like a deer in headlights. I probably look the same as I stand next to him.
As Principal Jordan raises his arms to place the crown on my head, the crowd disappears, and all I hear is my breathing. Everything loses sound as the weight of the faux metal headpiece is set upon my curls. Duncan and I stare at each other, both of us wearing expressions of concern.
Note by note, a slow song starts to slither its way into my consciousness. With gleaming headpieces on, Principal Jordan motions for us to move to the dance floor. I move toward my ex-boyfriend, who seems as petrified as I am.
"Why do I get the feeling something horrible is about to happen?" he asks as he tentatively places his hands on my hips, and we start moving. What we’re doing can’t really be called dancing, but we do it anyway.
"Because something bad is about to happen. I just have no idea what it is. Finn is freaked out, too. It's like that scene from Carrie with the pig's blood," I whisper, my heartbeat increasing with each of my jagged breaths.
"Come on,” Duncan gives me a warm smile. “Whatever it is, it can't be that bad. I don't have enemies, and neither do you."
I almost snort. "Hello! Have you forgotten who I'm dating? Being a Bastard comes with enemies. Seriously, look at my boyfriend right now," I say.
We turn our heads, scanning the crowd. Finn is weaving between our classmates, sizing up everyone in his path.
Duncan huffs, "Well, shit."
My heartbeat is now pounding at an uncontrollable rate; my head is spinning faster and faster.
"I—I'm having a panic attack," I sputter.
Duncan pulls me close against his chest. "Hey, hey. It's okay. I won’t let anything happen to you," he reassures, rubbing circles on my back. "Since when do you have panic attacks?"
I grip his arms and place my forehead on his shoulder. "I've always had them. You never noticed," I admit, unable to sugarcoat my response.
"Ouch," he groans.
"Sorry. I didn't tell you. I didn't tell anyone about my PTSD," I mutter.
Duncan’s eyes widen. "You have PTSD?"
"That's what happened in the tent that night," I explain with embarrassment.
He places his cool hand on the bare skin of my neck, which helps calm me just a little, but any degree of reprieve is welcome. "Fuck. You had a night terror? I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Do you want to talk about whatever happened to... cause that?" he asks.
I shrug. "You weren't born in Grove Hill, so you don't know. All the adults and some of the teenagers in town know."
"Know what?" Duncan presses.
I take a deep breath, ready to confess. "My uncle tried to rape me when I was ten."
Duncan slightly pulls away, forcing me to look at him. His face pales in horror. "Oh my god."
"It was before we met. You don't have to say anything," I say awkwardly.
"We dated for six years, and you never told me," he utters, his voice thick with emotion. "God, no wonder we never went further than kissing. I thought maybe you just didn't want me. I know two people can love each other without sexual attraction being involved. I thought that's what was happening."
"Don't feel bad, okay? No one knew."
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. "Well, it's not like you've had sex with Finn," he jokes.
Wait. What? I have no clue what to say. Denying it would be lying, but the truth might upset him, so I stay silent.
"Francine?" Duncan says my name, and reluctantly, I meet his eyes. The hurt is obvious on his face. "You have, haven't you? You had sex with him? Him, of all people?” He sputters in disbelief and incredulity. “You gave your virginity to him after what? A month and a half?"
I stay silent again. This time, Duncan pulls fully away, mouth agape. After a few moments of stunned silence, he turns and runs off. The despair radiating from him is crippling.
I've hurt him, and I hate that I caused him this pain. It's horrible.
Everyone’s eyes follow Duncan as he storms out onto the terrace, the French doors closing behind him.
Then, it hits me. The reason for rigging the votes; it hits me like an eighteen-wheeler going full speed. This wasn’t about hurting me. It was about hurting Duncan.
And that’s exactly what happened.
Chapter Eight
Her
"Duncan," I whisper his name calmly as I step outside and find him pacing like he's mid-panic attack. His muscles are trembling as he moves back and forth. My heart hurts seeing him in this condition.
Growling, he stops in his tracks, accusing me with his eyes, then his words. "How could you do that?"
"He and I are dating! Did you really think I wasn't ever going to have sex with him?” I retort, irritation heavy in my voice. Like he has any right to be angry.
"You knew exactly how much I hate him, and you did it anyway," he roars angrily.
"And you fucked Gloria while we were together. Does that make us even?" I ask darkly.
It takes a hot second before reality hits him. His features soften, realizing how two-faced he's being right now. "I'm sorry. I just can't understand why you would sleep with him after I told you what he did to my sister," he apologizes, concern written on his face.
This makes me angry. "He didn't do anything to Clara."
Duncan snickers. "Oh, yeah? Did he tell you that?"
"No, your sister did," I admit.
His brows shoot up with shock. "What?"
"It wasn't Finn. She was only talking to him at that party because he was warning her not to get involved with his friend. He was trying to help her, but she ignored his advice, so stop blaming Finn for your sister getting knocked up. It's not fair to Finn or me," I explain.
I understand he’s angry and in pain, but he should have gotten to the bottom of the issue before blaming people without evidence. "Why don't you just say why you're actually upset? I'll let you yell at me all you want. Get that aggression out," I challenge him.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about. You're upset because I had sex with Finn and not you. So go ahead. Yell and scream at me. Call me a whore. Tell me I'm stupid. Go ahead," I push harder. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?”
"That's not true," he denies, shaking his head slightly.
"Yes, it is. We were together for six years, and I never gave myself to you, but I gave myself to Finn, and you're upset—understandably so. Just say it," I press, but he doesn't say anything and keeps his gaze from mine. At least he's not denying it. "You hold everything in, Duncan. Stop internalizing all your frustration. You're upset with me, so fucking admit it." I push his arm with irritation.
He finally lifts his chin and wags a finger at me. "Don't push me, Franny."
"Then do something about it. You'd always say it when Finn did something that pissed you off, so why are you holding back? Stop holding it in! If you're mad, say you're fucking mad! Stop being such a pussy," I yell, trying to get a reaction out of him. If I don't, he'll go off and do something stupid.
"I'm not a fucking pussy," he growls at me.
He's almost there. "Prove it. Be a fucking man and let it out!" I scream.
With a maelstrom of emotion—anger, desire, jealousy, passion—Duncan grabs my shoulders and crashes his lips to mine. His lips had been the only lips I had kissed for six years; however, this kiss is completely new. He’s never kissed me like this before.
It was always soft and sweet, like puppy love, but right now, he's kissing me like I'm the air he breathes, the water nourishing him.
Holy hell.
It feels really good. My fingers itch to pull him close.
Wait, what? What am I doing? I should be pushing him away. Finn and I are together, and I don't feel that way about Duncan anymore.
Or do you?
This seems to be a different Duncan. Well, this is a fucking disaster.
It would be easy to get lost in this kiss, but I can’t. I forcefully take a step back, breaking our connection. I slam a hand over my mouth to keep him from doing it again or to hold myself back.
He slams his eyes closed and tilts his head to the heavens before bringing it back down and snaring me in his gaze. "Shit. I'm so sorry," he apologizes. The words are there, but the emotions aren’t. Sure, he may be sorry for the issue he caused, but I can tell right now to my soul this fucker would do it all over again.
Angry at him for doing it and angry at me for liking it, I practically spit in his face. "You can't do that! I'm with Finn now. I'm finally happy!” Leaving those words to poison him like his kiss is going to slowly poison me, I race back into the house before I do something completely stupid, like kiss him again.
***
"What about the rest of prom?" Finn asks as I tug him into one of the guest rooms before locking us inside.
"I don't care about the rest of it," I say before tugging him against me, feeling his hard body crash against mine. He’s hard already, the evidence digs into my stomach. I grab the sides of his head and pull him down to my level, sliding my tongue along his. He matches my energy, and soon, we are kissing each other harder than ever.
This is what I need to get my mind off what happened. I can't tell Finn that Duncan kissed me. If I do, it will end in another fistfight, which neither of us can afford. I know he won't be mad at me. I didn't kiss Duncan. No. He kissed me, and I pushed him away. I did everything I was supposed to.
But Finn isn't your boyfriend. He's made that clear on multiple occasions.
I try to ignore my inner voice as I work at Finn's belt, his kisses becoming needier.
"Right here? Are you sure?" he rasps, tearing his lips from mine to do so. I force down his zipper.
"Yes, please."
I turn around and press my hands against the wall as he works at the zipper down my back, biting along my shoulder as he does it. The dress falls from my body, pooling at my silver strappy high-heeled shoes, leaving me in my white lace thong and white strapless bra. His hands possessively trail down my back and ass, squeezing the flesh. Then he picks me up, bridal style, and carries me to the king-size bed.
He throws me, and I land with a bounce. I can’t tear my eyes from him as he takes off his suit jacket, his muscles moving and bulging as he does. God, his body is like it was sculpted by the devil himself, so strong and tempting.
Eyes on me, he unbuttons his dress shirt, revealing the canvas of tattoos that captivates me on a daily basis, before pushing off his pants.
His black boxer briefs hug him in all the right places, accentuating the sheer size of his erection.
Fuck, I want him.
Imagine how big Duncan's dick might be.
What the fuck?! Where did that thought come from? My inner voice is being a bitch and pipes in, bringing me out of this moment as Finn pulls down my panties. I saw him with Gloria but didn't actually see the hardware. I bet he's really big.
Why is this happening right now?
God, would you shut the fuck up!
I should not be thinking about this, and my inner voice shouldn't either. I'm here with Finn, the man I love, and I should definitely not be thinking about—
Finn's tongue lands on my clit, and my entire body purrs in ecstasy. Shocks of electricity course through my body as an amalgamation of lust, desire, and confusion rush to my core.
He takes all of my control. "Oh my god," I cry as I rake my fingers through his hair.
This is exactly what I need—to let Finn play me like an instrument, pulling the melody he wants out of me.
"You taste so sweet, babygirl," he growls before going back to devouring me.
"Feels so good," I moan, losing myself to the sensation. Each swipe of his tongue quiets the murmurs in my brain. I'm screaming for mercy and begging him never to stop in the same breath as my orgasm gets closer.
"That's right. Come for me, babygirl," he demands before going back to my clit.
A moment later, my orgasm ignites into a tsunami of pleasure, washing away the tension all at once.
"Fuck," I drawl as a moan of rapture claws its way from my throat. His talented tongue is like a snake charmer, making my hips buck against my will.
You'd think I'd be used to how incredible he is at oral sex by now, but this kind of pleasure isn’t something anyone can get used to.
"So fucking delicious, I can’t get enough of this cunt," he groans before biting the inside of my thigh. He pulls back enough to kick off his boxers. Before moving up my body and positioning himself between my thighs, he jokes, "If we get in trouble for doing this, I'm blaming you.”
I give him a sly smile. "I'm sure the owner will be very understanding," I quip.
"Oh, yeah?"
I run my finger down between his pecs, drawing a line in his sweat-covered chest. "Yeah, since I'm the fabulous owner of this posh estate," I spout in my best impression of a high-class English accent.
Finn is mindlessly stroking his huge cock while staring at me blankly, blinking a few times before he speaks. "You own this place?"
"This was my grandparents’ estate. Six weeks ago, when I turned eighteen, it was officially mine, along with my trust fund and college fund. So what?"
He keeps staring at me, but his hand on his cock, stops. Then he abruptly leaps off the bed as if it’s on fire.
"Goddamn it," he curses under his breath as he snatches his boxers from the hardwood floor.
What is happening right now? "What is the issue here?" I ask, bringing my arm around my chest to cover my boobs. Whatever has got Finn riled has me feeling extremely uncomfortable. He shakes his head as he darts his gaze around the room, looking for the rest of his discarded clothing. The only light he has to go by is whatever reaches us through the open curtain.
"I was going to wait until tomorrow. I wanted to make this night perfect for you, but I just can't. I know what I’m about to do makes me an asshole, but I have to do it. I couldn't just pretend nothing was wrong until tomorrow. All night, I’ve felt like the biggest asshole. Looking at you, at how beautiful you are. Then there’s the way you look at me... makes me feel like a piece of shit. I hate that when you think back to your prom night, this is what you are going to remember.” Regret is dripping from his words, and I can’t believe what he’s saying.
"What are you talking about? You've been... oddly agreeable since you got here. What has changed? Is something going on I don't know about?" His level of anxiety is increasing, coming off him in waves. Pretty soon, I’m going to be drowning in them. He's never seemed so frantic before, and it scares me. Something is wrong. So very, very wrong.
"This... us... it needs to end, Francine," he mutters.
My heart clenches with anguish at his words.
No.
Did Finn seriously come as my date to prom just to dump me? What the ever-loving fuck?
Struggling for breath, I try to assess the situation. "Okay," I draw out, not letting myself yell and scream at him like I want to. I'm sitting here nearly naked, and I'm being dumped. Fuck, he’s breaking up with me with the same lips that were on my clit mere seconds ago.
My response catches him off guard. "Okay? That's it?" He stares at me with surprise.
I pull my knees up to my chin and wrap my arms around them. "Yes, that's it!" I break, tears filling my eyes. "I told you I wasn't going to fight you on it when the inevitable happened, and it surprises you that I'm not trying to beg you to stay with me." Does he not remember this? I made sure he didn't feel like he had to stay with me, but what the fuck? Does he want me to fight for something I never had in the first place? I can't do this. I can't stay silent. "You were seriously going to have sex with me, then break up with me in the morning? Who the fuck does that?"
Defiance alters his body position. "It wouldn't be breaking up because we aren't dating," he shoots back.
I visibly cringe at his words.
"Fuck. I didn't mean—"
"Yeah. Yeah, you did.” With the amount of venom in my voice, I’m surprised he doesn’t drop dead. “You can keep telling yourself that, but look at it from the outside, would you? We spent all our free time together. We were exclusive. You took me on a fucking date, Finn. That sounds like dating to me and to anyone else you ask. If we were limited to you just calling me anytime you needed your boner taken care of, I might believe you. But you’re lying to yourself if you actually believe I’m just a fuck. I can see it on your face, even now, while you're being an absolute dick." I’m not going to back down; I’m going to be straightforward and tell him how I feel about this. He's tearing my heart out. He deserves to bleed as much as I am.
"I'm sorry. I just can't do this anymore," he admits, his face falling as he pulls on his pants.
I can’t believe he’s breaking up with me, and his cock is still hard. "Get out," I say as I pull the blanket around my naked body, tears streaming down the perfectly placed makeup on my face. I know I look like a mess. Too bad my fix-up makeup isn't waterproof.
"Francine—" he takes a step forward, reaching his hand out to touch my arm. But I lose it.
"I said GET OUT!" I scream before giving in to my crying onslaught again. I hide my face in my hands; I’m not going to let him see my face right now. I know it was a far-fetched dream, thinking someone like Finn wouldn’t hurt me. He made me believe that he wanted to be with me, that I was worth being with. Finn accomplished the unlikely feat of shattering my fragile heart, the same heart he had once put back together.
I know I'll never be the same again.
***
Grudgingly, I get myself dressed, slowly donning the now-cursed garment. I need to leave. I need to forget this room and this night.
