Lost Boys (Slateview High 1)

It was a little thing: dinner and a movie. But it felt so good.

I wanted things around here to feel like this all the time. Like there was a possibility for a bit of levity in our darkened lives. Like there may be a bit of light at the end of the impossibly long tunnel we were currently navigating. Tiny moments like this helped me hold on to the little bubble of hope in my chest, to keep it from blipping out entirely.

Dad would be alright.

Mom would be alright.

And, for now at least, I was alright.

“I think I’m gonna shower and head to bed,” I said, standing up and stretching once the movie was done. “You guys don’t have to stay the night. I mean, I have a few extra blankets, and I can get the living room set up for you if you want—”

Before I could finish, Misael reached up and caught my wrist in his hand.

“Stay out here a bit?” he asked.

There was a sincerity in his tone that made warmth pool in my belly. Unlike when Bish or Kace asked a question, this one actually sounded like a question. Like I had a choice, and he really hoped I’d say “yes”.

I bit my lip. “Stay… out here?”

He grinned, flashing his teeth. “Yeah. Out here. With us. Y’know… let us take care of you. You deserve it. You need to relax and all that.”

My brow rose. I had the sneaking suspicion that their idea of “relax” was very different than what I was used to.

I also couldn’t find an ounce of willpower in me to say no.

A little thrill of excitement moved up my spine as I crossed back around the couch, sinking back down onto the floor next to Misael. The credits were still rolling in the corner of the TV screen as another movie started to play, but none of us were paying much attention to that anymore.

A hand tangled in my hair, tugging gently to tilt my head back, and when I looked up, I saw Kace’s glittering eyes staring down at me. Keeping his grip on my thick blond locks, he bent his head to kiss me. Our lips met upside down, and the strangeness of that made everything feel new, as if I’d never kiss

ed this boy before in my life. I could feel his lips in a whole new way, and it sparked a little fire inside my belly that burned low and hot.

A half-second later, hands landed on my shoulder before moving down to massage my breasts, palming them and pinching my nipples, making little shocks of sensation jolt through me as pleasure mingled with a bite of pain.

My breath was already coming faster, my heart rate picking up, when I felt Misael’s hands on the button of my jeans. As he worked the zipper down and tugged them off, I shifted my weight to make it easier for him. Only once he’d pulled them off entirely did nervousness rise up in me as I felt cool air hit the skin of my legs.

I’d been touched and kissed by each of these boys before, but never like this. Never all at once.

It was an overload of sensations that threatened to drag me under and drown me.

Misael’s hot breath trailed up my leg as Bish slipped his hands beneath my shirt, resuming his torture of my breasts on my bare skin. Kace tightened his grip on my hair as he kissed me, making a soft grunting noise low in his throat.

Then my arms were being lifted, and the shirt was dragged up and over my head, leaving me in just my bra and panties. We were in the living room, and even though I knew there was no chance Mom would be back tonight, it still felt risky and rebellious somehow, to do this out in the open, not hidden behind closed doors.

“Fuck. Switch.”

Bishop’s voice was raspy, and a second later, his mouth replaced Kace’s on mine. New hands roamed over me, their touch rougher and more demanding, and when Misael buried his face in the space between my legs, I arched my back, asking without words for more.

“God, you’re so wet already, Cora,” he muttered, and I swore I could feel his words against my core just as much as I heard them.

He wasn’t lying. I could feel it, the slick wetness soaking my panties as my inner muscles clenched tightly, demanding something I had never had yet. Something I was a little afraid of but craved with my entire being.

To be full. To be filled up.

To be made whole.

Part of me wanted Misael to tear his own clothes off, to line himself up and slide inside me, to steal my virginity and give me something so much better in return.

But he didn’t. Instead, gentle fingers tugged the fabric of my panties aside, and his mouth closed around my clit, his tongue lashing back and forth in a pattern that made me writhe on the floor.