Delia's Crossing (Delia 1)

Before I could say another word, he leaned over me, kissing my face, moving his lips down over my chin to my neck, as his hands now went under my blouse. He lifted it against my meager resistance and then had his lips quickly between my breasts, working his fingers over the bra clasp until it was undone and he had moved the bra away so that his lips could find my nipples and then move over and under my bosom. I was both shocked and frightened at how quickly the surge of excitement flowed down to my thighs and circled my stomach with a warmth that seemed to weaken me further. He was completely over me now, and we were sprawled on the floor.

When he put his hands on my thighs and started to lift away my skirt, I pushed hard on his chest.

“Easy,” he said, putting his hand over mine and holding it there against his chest. “Easy. I know what Mr. Baker did to you. Sophia told me. This is different. This will be different. I promise you.”

He leaned in to kiss me again, and I pulled back.

“No,” I cried, shaking my head. The mention of Señor Baker shocked me into greater resistance.

“Take it easy,” Bradley said softly.

I twisted and squirmed, burning my shoulder against the wood floor, but my resistance didn’t discourage him as I had hoped. Bradley pressed down harder on me.

“Hey, don’t be a tease. You like me. You want me. Just relax,” he said.

“No,” I said. “I don’t want this now. Please.”

“Come on, stop the innocent act. I know girls your age have been with plenty of guys in Mexico. That’s why you have so many children so young.”

“No, it’s not true. Let me go.”

I pushed his face away, and anger flashed like lightning through his eyes.

“What is this? Why did you get into my car so fast, huh? Don’t play around, Delia.”

“I’m not playing. Please,” I said, continuing to push at him, but he was too strong. It was like pushing a wall.

He stared down at me, gazing at my exposed breasts, and then he smiled.

“Keep pushing,” he said. “I like it.”

He had his hands under my skirt and was tugging my panties down. I seized his hair and pulled his face and his lips off my breasts. He grimaced and cried out, bringing his hands to my wrists, and we struggled for a few moments.

“I’m going to tell Sophia you tried to seduce me,” he warned when he pulled my hands away from his hair. “And she’s going to tell your aunt. I’m going to tell them you saw me driving by and waved me over and got into my car and that you asked me to take you for a ride and tried to seduce me. Think your aunt will believe that of you?” he asked me, smiling wryly. “Sophia told me what Mr. Baker had said about you.”

I felt my resistance weaken. I shook my head. “No, it was lies.”

“How will she feel about a little tramp from Mexico coming to live in her house and embarrass her? Huh? I’ll tell you how she’ll feel, awful and very angry, especially after I tell my stepmother, who gossips in the same social circles. Your aunt will have you deported, sent back in chains, and everyone in your village will hear the story.”

“Please!” I cried. “Don’t do that.”

“Relax. I’m not saying I’ll do that for sure,” he said. His hands returned to my panties. “Why should I do that? I like you.”

I started to sob softly. He was moving quickly now, and I didn’t know what else to do. “Please,” I begged him.

“I like that, too. Keep saying that. Please. Go on, say it again. Please.”

I shook my head madly when I felt him pushing into me.

“Please,” he continued to mimic. “Please.”

I closed my eyes. The pain and the disgrace flowed through me in equal waves. I felt myself rise out of my body to stop myself from thinking about what was happening to me. However, some time during his passion and his assault, I heard a voice inside me say, This didn’t happen to Cinderella.

When he was finished, he lay there still sprawled over me, breathing hard.

“You really were a virgin,” he muttered, and rolled over to pull up his pants.

I was still too much in shock to speak or even to cry.