“Fuck, Remi,” Pierces curses, shoving into me a few more times before lifting me off his cock so I straddle just his thighs instead. His hand comes around to fist his dick, and then I realize it’s because we didn’t use protection.
Pierce grips my hips and pulls me forward, his cock nestled between my lips. He holds me in place while he fucks me like that, his hard length slipping in my arousal but never penetrating, until his eyes close and his body jerks. Thick ropes of cum shoot onto his stomach that flexes with his climax. The sight, along with the friction against my clit, has me coming again.
“God, I love you,” Pierce says, still catching his breath as he smooths my damp hair off my forehead.
“I love you, too, Mr. James.”
Graduation Day
It’s been seven months sinc
e I’ve last stepped foot into West Point, and even though I can’t say I’ve missed it, I wouldn’t miss this day for the world, either.
I sit in one of hundreds of chairs in the lush courtyard, tugging at my collar, ignoring the stifling heat and curious stares from parents, teachers, and underclassman. If they think I give two shits about what they think about me, they have another thing coming. Now that Remington is graduating, I don’t have to worry about what they think of her either anymore. Shortly after Remington returned to West Point, Headmaster Charles called her in to question her about our relationship. Remington denied it, and since there wasn’t any proof and I had already resigned, he dropped it.
I’m sitting next to Remington’s father, Dan—which is essentially admitting to the world that I’m in a relationship with my former student—and ignore the way he nibbles on the dead skin around his thumb nervously. To say I’m not particularly fond of him would be the understatement of the century. He has treated Remi in a way I wouldn’t even treat our future pet, let alone child. But for her, I play nice.
For her, I play games I never thought I would.
For her, I’m a changed man.
Dan and Remington are slowly building their relationship again. He apologized for being absent most of her life, and for not believing her when she warned him about Ryan. Remi accepted, but she’s kept her distance. We’ve been living together, sharing a bed, and a kitchen, and things that are only ours—secrets no one else has access to—and even though sinners like me can only wish for heaven, my bastard ass has somehow managed to sneak through the door and step into this thing called paradise.
“The Land of Hope and Glory” assaults my ears from the speakers near the stage, and students are being called up to receive their diplomas. I scan the horde of pimply teenagers in royal blue gowns, looking for Remington in the sea of silk. I find her sitting next to Christian and Benton, even though their last names should have them completely spread out. She is squeezing Christian’s palm in hers and whispering something into his ear, her leg rocking in place. Adorably nervous. Something flutters in my chest.
Christian has grown on me. He’s at the house a few times a week, and he has zero interest in my girlfriend’s soft, feminine curves and legs for days. That makes him tolerable—even if mildly—in my book. The other kid, Herring, well, the jury’s still out on him. Christian and he are openly dating, but I still think the kid is an asshole. Guess Christian likes assholes. Literally.
Mikaela Stephens, surprisingly, wasn’t too upset nor surprised when the truth about Benton came out. Turns out, little Mikaela was keeping secrets of her own, which came to light a couple months later when a screenshot of her kissing another student started circulating—a very female student. Everyone’s got secrets. Ours just happened to have a happy ending.
Remington is wearing her blue robe over what I know is a very sexy, black tube dress. When she stands, I chuckle because she’s sporting her signature white Converse. Always such a rebel. And I wouldn’t have her any other way.
“Remington Nicole Stringer,” Headmaster Charles calls through the microphone. He looks almost as proud as I am. It’s hard not to root for a girl like Remington. People can’t help but to be drawn to her. I know my sorry ass never stood a chance. I glance at Dan who bats angrily at his eyes, like he’s mad at his tears for falling. I give him a firm shoulder pat, and that’s about all I have in me.
Remi shakes Charles’ hand, and he looks toward her shoes while saying something into her ear. Remi just beams her megawatt smile that’s making an appearance a little bit more each day, gives him a thumbs-up, and mouths, “Working on it!” Charles shakes his head, but he can’t hide his smile.
Dan and I stand and cheer, maybe a little too loudly, but ask me if I care. Remington busted her ass to get to this point, despite all the shit life threw at her, and was accepted into UCLA to boot. She’s going to major in psychology, and I don’t have to be a genius to figure out why. She is still hurting since losing Ryan, but more than that, she wants to understand the whys of it, and then maybe she can help others who suffer from the same afflictions. I couldn’t be more proud of this woman.
I’ve been working at my friend Drew’s firm, and we’ve decided to expand. I’ll lead the L.A. office, and in just two more months, we’ll both be moving to the Golden State. I try not to think about what would’ve happened if Gwen hadn’t intervened. I know deep down that Remington would’ve crawled her way out of that neighborhood either way. She doesn’t have one quitting bone in her body. But we wouldn’t have met. I’d still be working my mediocre job, living my mediocre life, interacting only with Shelly. In reality, Gwen saved me by saving Remi.
Speaking of Shelly, I wish I could say she’s recovered. She goes through bouts of sobriety, but it doesn’t seem to stick. I even offered to send her to the best rehab center in the state, but she has to want it for herself. And unfortunately, she’s simply not there yet.
When the ceremony ends, it’s pure chaos. Everyone scrambles to their families. Hugging. Crying. Laughing. Celebrating. Taking pictures. I spot Remington, who’s with Christian near the entrance, and I shove through the masses, making a beeline right for her. Before she even sees me coming, I lift her up and spin her around.
“Congratulations, sweetheart,” I say, still holding her around the waist.
“Everyone is looking at us,” she whispers with a smirk on her face.
“Then let’s give them a show, Miss Stringer.”
I grip the back of her head and kiss the shit out of her for everyone to see. She opens for me immediately, and her hands come up to cup my face. We ignore the whispers, the hoots and hollers, the whistles. None of it matters. It’s only us in this moment.
Sometimes secrets ruin lives. But sometimes they save them.
The End