Forsaken Desires (The Deepest Desires 2) - Page 2

Chapter one

Knox

Present Time – Sophomore Year of College

“Oh shit, baby girl, take this cock.”

The blonde on her knees in front of me, whose name I don’t know, is doing a supreme job of choking on my dick while I finish off this blunt.

I normally try to not make a habit out of one-night stands, but tonight I needed it. I’m back in Bellingham for Christmas break and my dad is being a grade A douchebag. I needed to take my mind off his bullshit, and what better way than with a blunt and a blow job—my two favorite Bs.

I picked her up at a party at my cousin Kalen’s house earlier, down in Mount Vernon. The minute I walked in, I caught her eye; I know, because I spotted her right away too. She’s cute, and her blonde hair looks natural, sitting on the top of her head in a messy bun that makes for a good handle to hold on to while I guide her up and down my cock.

I’m kind of surprised she even came home with me. Out of all her friends, she seemed the most innocent. She’s definitely the cutest out of the bunch, but I figured I’d go home with one of the other slutty-looking girls.

Putting out the blunt and grabbing my beer bottle, I pull blondie’s mouth off my cock. “Open up.”

Taking a mouthful of beer, I reach down and spit it into her mouth. She swallows it down, like the good girl she is, and resumes her throat game. I close my eyes and rest my head on the back of the chair, enjoying the feel of her hot mouth on me.

I place both my hands on her head and begin to fuck her mouth from below. I’m not gentle at all, but based on the sounds she’s making in between gagging on my cock and the hand she snaked underneath her dress to rub her pussy, I’d say she likes how rough I am.

My orgasm takes me by surprise, and I bust down her throat with a loud groan. Not the type of guy to ever send a girl on her way unsatisfied, I lie on the couch and instruct blondie to sit on my face.

She shamelessly takes what she needs from me, moaning loud and coming on my tongue.

Then I promptly call her an Uber and send her on her way. No reason to hang out any longer than necessary.

After she’s gone, I head into the main house in search of some food. When I’m home from college, I stay in the guest house in the backyard. Keeping my distance from my dad as much as possible is a necessity.

It’s after one in the morning now, so the coast should be clear, but I remain light on my feet, regardless.

As I’m finishing making a sandwich, I hear the unmistakable heavy footsteps of my father, and my stomach drops.

Fuck. Exactly what I wanted to deal with.

“Knox,” he growls in his gruff tone, “what the fuck are you doing in here this late?”

“Just hungry, Dad. Thought you’d be asleep.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

Coming up beside me, he takes the sandwich I was making for myself, then shoves it into his mouth. I can smell the whiskey on him and know I fucked up coming in here.

Before moving away for school, I used to stash snacks in my room to avoid the risk of running into him when he’s drunk. I didn’t think to do that when I got here this time, and I’m mentally kicking myself in the ass for it now.

“Oh, you didn’t want this, did you?” he asks with a baleful laugh.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m gonna go to bed.”

Turning on my heels to walk away, he catches me painfully by the arm. I wince before turning to face him. I refuse to show him any weakness. He’s like a bloodhound; he feeds off that shit.

“Did I fucking say you could go?”

“No, sir.”

“Who was that coming out of the guest house?”

“Just a friend.”

“Did you fuck her?”

I can’t help the sigh that comes out, but I regret it almost immediately when his large open palm collides with the side of my head so hard, my ears are ringing.

“I asked you a fucking question, boy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Atta boy,” he says this while patting my back as if we’re old pals, before stalking out of the kitchen like he didn’t just behave like a goddamn psychopath.

Grabbing an apple and a bottle of water, I head back outside.

Fuck this and fuck him.

I hate it here.

******

Over the next few days, I stay away from Dickhead Dad as much as possible. It’s kind of hard at times, seeing as it’s the holidays.

Christmas in my family is a whole ordeal. On Christmas Eve, there’s a yearly charity banquet for my dad’s company. The whole house is required to attend. It’s stuffy and full of rich snobs who like to pretend they’re good people because they donate a shitload of money every year, when we all know it’s for tax purposes, not because they actually have a heart and care about the needy.

Then on Christmas day, we have to spend it with our entire family and pretend that we all like each other. It’s tense as fuck every single year, and the only person I’m ever happy to see is Kalen.

He and I always eat edibles together when we get there, watch the game, and then talk shit about how everyone in our family is either fake as hell or deranged. I know Kalen’s dad is like mine; both hotheads. It’s that Finnegan blood. He’s never outright told me so, like I never have with him. However, I’ve noticed a few black eyes and busted lips over the years.

It’s now the day after Christmas, and I get to head home tomorrow. Thank fuck for that. I also get to avoid Dickhead Dad tonight, since I’m heading to a party, and I’ll end up crashing there for the night.

Tiny victories.

The party is at my buddy Crew’s house in Oak harbor. Crew lived in Bellingham his whole life, until right before we all left for college and his family moved out there. He also decided at the last minute that he wasn’t going to come to college with us, but instead attend Western Washington University up here. No fucking idea why.

I’m walking down my driveway now, when I see the headlights of Weston’s car pull up. I took the Amtrak here from school, so I don’t have my car. It’s proven to be extremely inconvenient during this trip, and I continue to remind myself to drive next time.

Opening the passenger door, I climb in. “What’s up, dude. Thanks for picking me up.”

“Aye, no worries, my man.”

“Is everyone coming?”

“All of us, except Branson. His stepdad had a heart attack the other day.”

My eyes bug out of my head. That’s news to me. “No shit! Is he okay?”

“I don’t know, man. They say the doctors have him in a medically induced coma, so his body can heal. Luca and Branson probably won’t be coming home right away, depending on how it goes.”

“Damn,” I mutter in disbelief. “I’m sure he’ll pull through.” Branson’s stepdad has always been a cool ass guy. We used to hang out at his house a lot before going to college.

It takes about thirty minutes to get to Crew’s place from my house, and it looks like people have already started showing up. He’s had these huge parties at his house for as long as I can remember. His parents are hardly ever home, always traveling for work or for pleasure, and they’ve never hesitated to leave him here alone.

Getting out of the car, I see the Walker twins heading inside.

What the fuck.

“Bro, what are they doing here? I thought they went out of state for winter break?”

“Who?”

Rolling my eyes, because he’s clearly not paying attention. “Anderson and Aston.”

“They did, but I think they got back today. Who cares?”

Not me.

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