Closing Night High Ch. 04

When he suddenly sinks his teeth into my neck—hard—I cry out, my nipples hard as diamonds under his touch. My need for this man is so strong, it could stop a fucking freight train. Reaching back between my legs, I quickly unbuckle his belt, get his jeans unzipped, and take his thick erection into both of my hands. A few strokes later, it's solid and throbbing.

My mind flashes back to last night, when I watched this cock shoot ropes of cum onto Caleb's perfect abs, chest, and neck. And his smooth, deep voice coming through my ear buds as he talked me through exactly how deep he wanted to pump that cum inside me... Just thinking about it has me edging close to climax.

"Um... My panties are getting a little wet"—understatement of the century—"Can you take them off for me, please? I've got my hands full." His dick pulses in them, and I grip it tighter on each stroke.

"I'll do anything you want, Em." His mouth is close enough that his hot breath hits my ear, and I have to hold myself back from begging him to get me off with just his words again. "But you'll have to climb off for me to do that."

"Nuh uh." I shimmy my hips a bit, rucking my skirt up to my waist. "All you have to do is untie me."

My skirt wasn't the only thing I deliberately chose to wear. Caleb wastes no time getting his hands on my hips and feeling for the silky ribbon on either side. The sheer fabric is quickly slipped from my body and clutched in his hand.

"Is this a present for me?"

"No, silly. That's just the gift wrap." Knowing Caleb, he's probably the type to neatly fold up the pretty paper and save it for later, which isn't a bad thing in this case. I freaking love those panties.

One slow inch at a time, I slide back down his chest. The friction of his hot skin on mine has me rocking my hips even before my ass is seated just above his cock. With one of my hands still stroking the hard flesh between my legs, I snake the other around the back of his sweat-slicked neck and pull him down to within kissing distance. His lips crash onto mine, and our mouths open for each other, our tongues immediately seeking each other out.

When his fingers find my clit and stroke it in slow circles, I stop jerking his cock and just hold it still while I grind my wet, slippery pussy against it. My thumb swipes over the tip, catching the little bead of pre-cum there and painting it around the swollen head.

His shaft throbs between my grasping lips, and my clit throbs in time with it. The pads of Caleb's fingertips press just a tiny bit harder, enough to have my stomach muscles clenching and my thighs tightening.

One last firm touch, and I'm cumming all over the hot pole between my legs, my hips going crazy as I scream into Caleb's hungry mouth. While my insides are still clenching from my orgasm, I angle his cock just right and lower myself onto it, loving the way the head feels as it pushes through my opening and stretches me to fit him like a tight, wet glove. I know he can feel the tight grip I have on him, and it's a testament to his willpower that he doesn't cum right away. He's close, though. I can feel it.

"Fuck, babe. I've missed you so much." His raspy sex-voice has my pleasure building again, even though I haven't finished my first orgasm yet. He's gripping my hips tight, guiding them into a deep, slow rhythm. "I've missed your tight, perfect pussy taking every inch of my cock. I've missed those little sounds you make when I'm pounding into you. I've missed how right it feels to be inside you. To fuck you. To make love to you."

His rough grasp on my hips loosens, letting me know I'm free to ride him as hard as I want. Throwing my head back onto his shoulder, I slam myself down on his lap, over and over. The little high-pitched grunts I can't seem to contain must be those sex sounds he's missed so much.

Three weeks is way too long to go without this feeling. Too long without his skin on mine, inside and out. I almost forgot how much he loves it when I squeeze my muscles around him and the way he moans when I play with my breasts.

On one downstroke, his fingers dig into my wide hips and don't let me back up. His dick swells, stretching me even more, and the tip hits that spot that means he's as deep inside me as he can get.

And then he's unloading into me. Thick, hot cum filling me up and coating my insides. What I wish for in this moment makes me such a horrible person... such an undeserving girlfriend... but it also has me cumming all over again. Even harder than last time, because I know that with every pulse of his cock, he's pumping more and more of his seed into me. I can barely hear his loud roar over my own deafening scream of pure pleasure.

We stay connected, even after the last of our aftershocks. Warm cum leaks out of me as his cock softens, but he still doesn't take it out, and I certainly don't ask him to.

There's a long moment of quiet, of stillness, that comes after our explosive orgasms. The only sounds are my heartbeat pounding in my ear, Caleb's fight to catch his breath, and the cicadas in the trees surrounding us. Holy shit, those bugs are loud. How did I not notice them before?

"Come home with me tonight." There's real hope in his voice, but he knows as well as I do that can't happen. "It feels so wrong to fuck you and then let you drive off to sleep in your bed all alone."

"First off, I'm pretty sure I'm the one who fucked you." He chuckles at that, jostling me, and more of his cum spills out. "Second, I won't be alone. I'll have you in my bed, just like I have the past few weeks." His face on my laptop is a woefully poor substitute for the real thing, but it's what's gotten me through our time apart.

"You should be with me. Really with me. You should be falling asleep with your head on my chest and waking up with my arms around you."

I feel around next to me and grab a few napkins, then hold them between my legs to catch the gush of thick fluid as I slide off Caleb's spent dick. No point getting his jeans any cummier than they already are.

Kneeling at his side, I tell him to lie down. When he's on his back, I join him, resting my head on his bare chest and one of my legs over his thigh. I'm instantly wrapped in his arms again—arms that have the power to make me believe that nothing can keep me out of them for long.

"We're going to beat this. You know that, don't you?" His fierce words vibrate against my cheek as my fingers caress the soft, dark trail of hair below his navel.

"Fuck yeah, I know it. Your nut job ex and her piece of crap lackey have no clue what's about to hit them."

I'm certain of it, because this man will fight to the death for me, and I'll be fighting right along with him.

In seconds, I'm on my back with Caleb between my legs and his cock right back where it belongs.

* * * * *

The Big L hasn't updated their decor or their menu since the sixties, and how it still manages to have a smoking section is way beyond my understanding. But, holy fuck, their food is good! There are other diners in the area, but they can't even touch the awesomeness that is the L. Maybe it's the decades of grease caked onto their griddles... and every other surface. If that's the case, they should never clean. Like, ever.

There's a mountain of bacon cheddar fries in the middle of our table, and Eric, Parker, and I devour them as we try to work out what the fuck happens from here. Well, actually, the guys are way more interested in my clandestine tryst with Caleb last night.

"Oh, come on, Em! So, he took you out to the woods, at night, and you were alone with him for hours. And you're trying to tell me nothing fun happened?" Eric's frustration is very entertaining, and I'm not above intentionally withholding details just to keep pissing him off.

"Uh, no. I'm trying to tell you that it's none of your business." My upturned middle finger while popping another fry in my mouth helps drive that point home.

"Such a tease..." Eric mumbles. "I'll bet you don't tease Caleb like this, you little trollop."

"Trollop? What three-hundred-year-old ass did you pull that out of?" I scrunch my nose at that visual. "Gross." Sadly, my previously tasty food doesn't look or smell so appetizing anymore. Boo to that.

"Ok, fine. So you're selfish and mean and refuse to share with us what it's like to use that sexy beast as your plaything." His exasperated sigh lets me know he really is giving up on his quest for info. "You really think his ex is working with someone at school?"

"There's no other explanation that makes sense."

"Do you still think Jeff has something to do with it?" Cutie asks.

"Maybe? I don't know. It could be anyone from the musical—cast, crew, whatever. That's almost a hundred people." My head would be banging on the table right now, if I could stand to have my nose that close to the fries.

"Well... Parker and I were talking about it—"

"That's a bad sign," I grump.

"As I was saying, Parker and I talked about it, and we really think you should tell your parents what's going on."

My eyes bug out of my head. Are they crazy? There's no way that's a good idea. I mean, yeah, thinking about it objectively, they're right, but I'm not willing to entertain that option just yet.

"Absolutely not, guys."

"Come on, Em. This isn't just someone from our school being a jealous little shit, anymore. Caleb's ex is a grown-ass woman who's gone off the rails. And she has serious dirt on you. If you won't go to your mom and dad, at least go to the police."

"...Who will probably talk to my parents. Again, no." At least, not yet. I know we'll need them at some point, or Caleb and I have zero hope of recovering the file with our sex tape on it. "We need to think of another way, because I'm not willing to risk Caleb getting fired two weeks before graduation. That's not worth it."

"Ok, fine," Eric concedes, knowing I've dug my kitten heels in and can't be swayed. "Let's work on a plan, then."

The three of us spend the next hour staring out the window, tapping our fingers on the table, pushing some fries around the plate, and not coming up with a single freaking idea.

* * * * *

Monday mornings always suck. I'm pretty sure everyone can agree on that. When that Monday is the day before finals start, it's doubly sucky for every student in high school. It's crazy, the mix of excitement over getting out of here soon and the usual stress over being tested on shit you learned four months ago, quickly forgot, then tried to cram back into your already-full brain.

For me, it's Monday morning on the day before finals, and I'm back to pretending my boyfriend means nothing to me, while simultaneously giving all my theater friends the stink-eye and thinking, "Is it you?" Yeah, I'd say I've got all these other pussies beat.

Oh, and on top of all that, I'm being followed. Like, not the usual following that I know is going on but can't see—this is in-your-face, I-want-you-to-know-I'm-watching-you following.

He was waiting for me first thing this morning, lurking five lockers down from mine. After my second period humanities class, I found him leaning against the wall just outside the door. His creepy stalker eyes were on me all through lunch, nearly killing my appetite. And now he's standing by his car... which is parked right next to mine.

Every time I've seen him today, he's looked like he's got something to say. I wish I didn't, but I really want to hear what it is. Rounding my car, I'm about to give him fifty pieces of my fucking mind, but the freak just gets into his driver's seat and starts the engine. Then he shoots me a meaningful look and jerks his head toward the exit of the school parking lot.

Okay... Fine, I'll play.

The faded black sedan drives off before I've even buckled my seatbelt. Quickly following it, I find him pulled over at the stop sign down the street. After a series of unnecessarily convoluted turns, we end up in the parking lot behind a strip mall in the bad part of town. Okay, so our town doesn't exactly have a "bad part," but this is as sketchy as we get. And back here is where the employees park, nice and secluded.

I definitely shouldn't get out of the car. Nope. This whole thing feels off. But, for some reason, it doesn't feel scary. When he exits his car and sits on a decrepit picnic table with cigarette butts scattered around it, I do the same.

"So, Jeff, care to explain what the fuck?"

"Hey, Emilie," he says, looking guilty. Meanwhile, I'm going off on the guy six ways to Sunday in my head.

"Skip the bullshit. What am I doing here?"

"I need to tell you something."

"Obviously. So, what is it? You want to tell me about how you got wasted last year and planned to get all handsy with me, whether I liked it or not?" Jeff gives a satisfying wince. Oo, that felt good. "Or maybe it's that you filmed an inappropriate moment between me and a certain someone we both know and have been stalking me ever since." Okay, so I'm not entirely positive that's him, but if it is, then it's best we just get it out in the open.

"God, Em, I am so sorry about last year. I—"

"Like I give a shit about that part. Get to the part that matters."

"It's not me."

"If it's not you, shouldn't you be saying something like, 'Gee, Em, I have no idea what you're talking about'?"

"No. I know exactly what you're talking about. But it's not me."

Whoa. Hold up.

My body freezes, but my brain starts going a mile a minute. If he knows about all the stalking, but he's not the one doing it... then he knows who is. Holy shit! For the first time in my life, I'm speechless. Luckily, Jeff starts talking again.

"We started hooking up a few months ago. She didn't want anyone to know, so we snuck off a lot. I really liked her, though, and I went along with it so I could be with her."

My mind flashes back to a scene from a couple weeks ago. Jeff getting molested in the stairwell by...

"Lacey." The name escapes on a gasp.

His eyes dart to the ground, and he rings his hands as he goes on. "The other night, when her mom wasn't home, she had me over her place. We smoked and— Well, she talks a lot when she's high, and she started bragging. Then she showed me a video."

"Oh my God," I groan. My head drops into my shaking hands. Jeff saw that? It's been bad enough knowing that Caleb's ex and the once-nameless stalker saw my seriously intimate moment with Caleb. But now Jeff? My stomach turns with despair and anger and shame and the salisbury steak I had for lunch. This is bad. This is so, so bad.

"I'm not here to judge you, Emilie. I just thought you needed to know."

"But... why? Why would Lacey do this to me? I mean, we've never exactly been friends, and she annoys the shit out of me at times, but I didn't think we were enemies." All those emotions in my tummy are now escaping through my eyes in the form of tears. Even worse, Jeff's now looking at me with pity. Well, he can take his fucking pity, slather it in lube, and shove it up his ass.

"She hates you, Em. Like, really hates you."

"What the hell did I ever do to her?" I'm a nice person, for crying out loud—even though I know I'm the shit. But everyone has something in them that makes them the shit, so it's not like I think I'm better than anyone else.

"You have to know—"

"Know what?" I snap.

"It all comes so easy to you. Singing, acting... life. I'm not saying you don't deserve it, but people get jealous. Lacey's jealousy got out of control."

"Ha! Out of control? She's ruining my life. She filmed something private and put it in the hands of someone even crazier than she is."

"What are you talking about?" Jeff asks, looking genuinely perplexed.

"Oh, she didn't tell you that part, did she?" He just shakes his head. "She's been working with Caleb's ex-wife. Lacey does the spying and reports to the ex, who then holds it over my head to keep me and Caleb apart." And, great. It she didn't tell Jeff about that, then she also didn't tell him how or why that twisted partnership came about.

"This is so fucked up," Jeff seethes. His hands ball into fists, his face reddens, and tears glisten in his brown eyes. Now I'm the one feeling sorry for him—an unexpected and unwanted emotion.

"You really did like her, huh?"

"Yeah. I thought I loved her. But not after this. I promise, Em, I'll never talk to her again."

As much as that freckled, ginger bitch deserves to be shunned by the only semi-hot guy willing to fuck her bony ass, there's an even better way to screw her over.

"Actually, I need you to not do that." My tears are all dried up now. I have no idea how to deal with Melissa, but Lacey? Oh, I've got a few ideas. "Do you think you could steal her phone for me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure I could."

"Good. Once you have it, leave it in Caleb's office, okay?"

"No problem," he agrees readily. "And I really am sorry, Em. You know, about last year."

With a small nod, I leave him sitting at the picnic table. When I reach my car door, I look back and say, "Thank you, Jeff."

It's not forgiveness, but it's close enough.

* * * * *

"I hereby call this meeting of the Evil Bitch Slayers Club to order," I say, all official-like. The two guys in my room and the man on the screen all respond with looks of confusion and concern.

"So, wait... Are we the slayers of evil bitches, or are we evil bitches who slay?" Parker asks. "I'm good either way, really."

"The first one, Cutie. Especially the plural part," I say, preparing to drop the bomb.

"Of course it's plural. Duh. There are four of us," Eric chimes in.

"Gah! Not that plural—the other one." Are these guys being intentionally dense, or do they just like spoiling my fun?

"Babe, I love you, but I think you just need to get to the point," Caleb says through my laptop speaker.

Sigh... He's lucky he's got a voice like rock candy—sugar-sweet and gravelly at the same time. All he has to do is open his mouth and make noises, and I'm hot pink putty in his talented hands.

"Well, I was going to do this long buildup to the dramatic reveal, but..."—quick pause to check my nails, all blasé-like—"Yeah, so, it's Lacey."

I was hoping for a period of satisfying, stunned silence, but nope. It's more like a loud chorus of "What the fuck?" and "Holy shit..." and "Who's Lacey?"

Ha! I kinda love that Caleb always knew who I was but doesn't have a clue who Lacey is. Even though she's been in theater since freshman year, just like me. Even though he was at her house that night last year, when he showed up to save me. Oh God... Is it any wonder she hates me? Hell, the morning of set strike, she said she wanted to ask Caleb out after graduation, and—

Oh, hold up. She already knew! That whole time she was going on about wanting all up in his hotness, making me wish I had a pointy beak I could peck her eyes out with, she'd already seen us—and filmed us—getting physical. And when I told her he's probably gay, she knew I was just being a lying, possessive bitch.

"You cunt!" I scream at Lacey, pissed that she's not in the room to hear it.

Two pairs of strong hands cover my balled, trembling fists, as my friends coo soothing little sounds at me, trying to calm my suddenly worked up ass.

"What just happened there, Em? Are you ok?" Caleb's out of his chair now, leaning over the desk and watching me with worried eyes. Knowing my man, I'm sure he's fighting the urge to come over here and make me feel better. I seriously wish he could.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, shaking off my rage. "Let's just say, it finally hit me how fucking devious she really is." When Caleb's brows scrunch together, I remember he still has no clue who I'm talking about. "You know who she is—big, red hair, usually loud and inappropriate. She throws the closing night parties every year."