“Yeah, Deke.” She whispers my name and runs her tongue across her plump nude lips. Becky always wears pinks. “You want me to be her? Does that turn you on? Go ahead, Deke. Call me Becky.”
My cock twitches inside my jeans, and she reaches out, undoing my zipper. “I can be anyone you want.” Reaching inside my jeans, she pulls my achingly hard cock free. Wrapping her fingers around the base, she begins to stroke me. Her thumb running over my pre-cum. I lean forward, burying my head into her neck, and she releases me.
“You smell like her,” I growl, hating it.
“Make me smell like you,” she whispers, running her hands down my back. Her nails lightly scratching my skin. It makes me shiver. “Who do you want me to be?” she purrs.
“Yourself.” No! I don’t want you at all.
She chuckles. “That’s no fun, baby.”
I pull away and stare down at her. I blink several times, hoping she’ll disappear, and that Becky will be the girl underneath me. The one I’m hard for. But Demi remains.
She moves her hands to my bare chest. Her blue eyes follow them as they skate along my skin before her eyes meet mine. “Pretend I’m her, and I’ll pretend I love you.”
“Demi,” I say her name in warning, but I’m not sure what I’m trying to warn her of.
She seems to understand because she smiles. “Wrap your hand around my throat and show me how much you hate her.”
“Deke?”
I hear a familiar male’s voice off in the distance, pulling me out of my dream. Nightmare. I’m not sure what it is at this point. I ignore it, trying to push myself back into it.
“Come on.” She lifts her hips to meet mine. “Do it. I promise I can take it.”
“No.”
Her arms fall open on the bed, and she arches her back, exposing her neck to me, and releases a laugh. The sound so loud and condescending, it makes my jaw tighten.
“She makes you so fucking soft.” She relaxes back into the comforter and looks up at me. Narrowing her eyes, she spits out. “She always made you weak. That’s why she did to you what she did. Because you let her.”
I lift my right hand and wrap it around her delicate throat. Her smile grows to full victory, but I tighten my hold, and her eyes widen. Her lips part, and she tries to suck in a breath. “Isn’t this what you want?” I ask, tilting my head to the side as I watch her pretty eyes change from triumph to full-out fear. It turns me on. “Becky?”
She digs her heels into the comforter, and her hands slap at my chest. I sit up, my legs pinning her hips to the bed. “Becky never could handle what I liked in bed. And you’re no different.”
She struggles to no avail. “Look at you now, Becky,” I taunt. “I get to choose if you live or if you die.” I smile. “And too bad for you, your life no longer matters to me.”
As if she accepts her fate, she stops fighting me, her body relaxing once again. Her eyes softening, her nipples hardening. I watch in complete fascination as her body comes alive before me. Her hands come up to cup her breasts, and she arches her back. But I don’t let go. I want to see just how far she’ll let me go.
How long until she loses consciousness? Time seems to slowly tick by, but she doesn’t push me away again; instead, she takes it. Like a good girl or a love-struck fool. Her pretty eyes roll back into her head, and her lips turn blue. When I finally decide to let go of her neck, she doesn’t move. She doesn’t breathe. I did exactly what I threatened I’d do. I killed her.
I wait for her to turn back into Becky. She’s the one I really wanted to hurt. But she stays Demi. And I start to panic.
“DEKE!”
I sit straight up in bed.
“What the fuck, man? Wake up,” Cole snaps, standing next to my bed with a look of rage in his blue eyes. “Get your ass out of bed and meet me downstairs,” he demands before he walks out of my room, but not before he flips the light on and leaves my bedroom door open.
“Fucking prick,” I mutter.
I bow my head and close my eyes. What the hell was that about? Did I kill Demi in my dream because she was trying to be Becky?
Why the hell was she there in the first place?
I run a hand through my hair and jump out of bed. Throwing on a pair of sweatpants, I make my way down the stairs to find him pacing the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” I ask through a yawn after noting that the clock on the oven reads a little after three a.m. I just got home twenty minutes ago. After Demi left, I had called Cole because his father had called me looking for him. He ended up coming home, and I went out to a college party. I had just gone to sleep. And dreamed of both Becky and Demi. That can’t be a good sign. “This better be good …”