Deuces Wild

“You have to let me go,” I remind him. His hold on me tightens for half a second before he lets go, stomping from the room. I stand there in shock for a moment, not sure what to say.

I look around for the bags of clothes I got but don’t see them anywhere. “Your clothes are in my closet” is shouted from the other room.

“As in your closet?” I shout back.

“Yep.” The single word is clipped, followed by what I think is the banging of a pan. I make my way to Carter’s closet and in fact see all the clothes I’d gotten hung up. His closet is in perfect order. I am noticing he can be a little OCD at times—or maybe it’s not OCD, but it’s definitely something. He likes things a certain way or expects them to be that way. I started noticing it yesterday when we spent the day lying around his place. Okay, I was the one that was actually lying around but that’s not the point. Carter is always doing something to keep busy. He’s always trying to make sure things are in order.

I grab a pair of jeans that cost more than some people make in a week. I got a ton of tops too but I find myself venturing over to Carter’s side of the closet. I pull one of his shirts down. It says his last name across the back with the number two on it. The front says Franklin U High across the chest. I slip on one of the silky bras before I pull it over my head. It’s way too big for me but I tie it on the side. For some reason it feels like it might be armor for me. Carter might be a jerk to people but it is clear people don’t mess with him and he is popular. I’m not sure if it’s by choice.

I go back into the bathroom and try and do something with my hair. I don’t know why. It always hangs straight no matter what I do to it. I put on some mascara and lip gloss and call it a day. Any other time I think I’d linger to make Carter late but I don’t want to be late on my first day either. I’m sure I’ll have to pick up a schedule or something.

I stroll into the kitchen. Carter picks up a bag, putting it over my shoulder. “Nice shirt.” I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.

“Better than naked right? ‘Cause you’re not attracted to me. Remember?” I remind him of what he said to me the first night I stayed here. I don’t know why that popped out of my mouth. I guess it is still bugging me. “This mine?” I reach for the sandwich he has sitting on a plate. I don’t really wait for an answer as I turn and head toward his car.

“I don’t eat in my car,” he says from behind me.

“Then you better finish your sandwich before you get in, Deuce.” I look back at him. Again I can’t read his face. “Thanks for mine.” I take a bite of it with every intention of eating it in the car and somehow I know he’s going to let me.

Chapter 13

Carter

I’m in a bad mood and I’m not making any attempt at hiding it. My dick is getting sore from all the jacking off I’m doing. Seeing Waif naked sent me into my bathroom, where I jerked myself to a very unsatisfying orgasm. It was either that or go to school with a chub. I was glad I did it because seeing her in my shirt would’ve had me bending her over on the kitchen island had I not taken the edge off.

Can anyone blame me? My name was all over her back. She’s basically going to school announcing to everyone that she belongs to me. My dick immediately sat up and took notice. I had to give myself another groin punch to calm down. Why is she so sexy? Why can’t she, for a single holy moment, be a hag? I need the break. My dick needs the break. I need to sleep. I need—fuck, who knows what I need? I guess I just need her. I need her in my bed, under my body, her wet heat surrounding my massive erection, her lips glued to mine. Like, is that so much to ask?

Apparently so, because she hasn’t shown the slightest interest in me. I have chicks on my jock all the fucking time so I know when a girl wants me. They come up and try to palm my groin or they’ll leave their underwear in my locker or they’ll ambush me after practice. Waif acts like I’m an annoyance at best. At worst, I’m a monster that is going to eat her in her sleep. And I can’t even deny that because half my fantasies do involve me pulling her to the edge of the sofa, parting her thighs and eating her pussy until she creams all over my mouth. Understandably, I had to rub one out.