Hornet's Nest Ch. 03

But it actually was. I don't know if I'd ever had such an urge to get out of bed every morning, just because there was a face I wanted to see that day. The last time I'd ever been so constantly excited was when I was 11 or 12, when Wesley joined the family.

*

"Do you want to go running with me?" Violet asked, snapping my eyes up across the table of the campus canteen.

I was reading a lengthy biology paper on my phone - too many walls of text for the small screen, littered with scientific jargon. I took a moment to come back to reality. "What?"

"Running," she repeated. "With me." I could swear she was suggestively sucking on her straw as she eyed me like that.

"Erm."

"No climbing buildings 'n shit. Just running."

I locked my phone to slip it back into my pocket. "I might not be fit enough to do what you want me to do."

"I think you're well fit." Her eyebrows bounced.

I chuckled. "Okay."

"I want you to come running with me."

"Okay."

"Tonight."

"Sure." I swiped her drink to steal a sip.

"Keep it," she said when I offered it back. "I got class." She leant across the table to give me one of her pecks, then disappeared into the crowds in her usual manner. I pulled my phone out to finish that paper while draining the smoothie.

"What the fuck," Wesley laughed as I emerged that evening in tracksuits and trainers. "You're seriously going to do parkour with Vi?"

"Apparently so," I replied as I locked my room's door.

"Mate, you're gonna split your skull and die."

"She promised me 'no climbing buildings 'n shit'."

He chuckled and slapped my shoulder. "Aight, see you later."

I zipped up my hoodie and was already feeling the cold as I descended the stairwell of our building. It was a vicious bite once outside. The idea was to warm up while moving.

Vi was waiting for me at the typical corner. I might've missed her had I not been looking for her. She had her hood up, hands in pockets, and could pass for any shifty, loitering youth.

She placed a hand on my stomach, looked me up and down.

"What do you want me to do, exactly?" I asked, breath clouding between us.

"Just follow my lead."

She started with a jog and I kept beside her. At the end of the street she picked up speed.

Fuck. I wore out faster than her. She was fitter than me. It flared up my competitive streak, but I wasn't going to win. I'd been a top sprinter at school, but not long distance. I couldn't maintain that sort of speed. She had a perfect rhythm with the repetitive sound of her feet hitting the pavement. She slowed when I fell behind, then stopped into a brisk walk to let me breathe.

"Okay?" she asked. Once my heavy pants had reduced somewhat, I gave a nod and it started all over again.

I had no idea where she led me in the dark. Probably her shortcuts, typical routes she took when she did this. Backs of buildings, alleyways. I was focusing on my breathing, the strain of my body asking me what the fuck I was doing when it'd been lazy for months. Cold air ripped at my throat and burnt my lungs. After the third stop and start even my legs ached.

We slowed and slowed until we weren't going above a jog. Then she slowed into a walk and didn't look to me for confirmation that I could speed up. We continued in silence. She was panting, too, but not as violently as I was.

It was extremely dark, high buildings either side of us and no street lights.

"Where are we?" I breathed.

"Edge of the industrial estate. I want to show you something." She tossed me a grin. "It's like a playground here."

The alleyway was blocked off by a chain link fence. There was a gate in it, but it was padlocked. Vi leapt up to grab the top, lifted herself, swung over, and dropped the other side with one fluid movement. I wasn't quite as graceful, sticking my shoe between the links for some extra lift as I clambered over, feeling a jar in my legs as I thudded the other side.

She walked with that same, brisk direction. Somewhere to be. There was finally a little light as we came out from the building shadows. I saw her hand gesture upwards.

"Up there."

"I thought we're not climbing buildings."

She chuckled. "You can manage this."

She led me to a fire escape staircase, steps clanging on the metal as she scaled it, echoed by mine as I followed. It spiraled up four levels. "Lots of abandoned warehouses around here," she said. "Companies going out of business and stuff." At the top, there was a sloped roof of ridged metal, reachable from the fire escape's railings. She climbed up and offered me a hand.

"Here," she continued, leading me up until the roof flattened. "Look. Look how fucking beautiful cities are at night."

It was quite a view, the sprawling sight of lights and building silhouettes. She pointed to the left.

"Over there, that darker patch. That's the park near the uni. Apparently when the bonfire's lit you can see it from like, everywhere."

I studied it. Fuck, we'd run that far? I'd done pretty well. It was cold, though. The height of our position was putting us in the open for the breeze. I was damp with sweat and a brief gust pierced my clothing.

"And over there," Vi said, taking a few steps to the right. "That big spire of the church? That's next to the train station."

I followed her, wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her into me, and kissed her. She giggled through it, returning it with an excited surge, standing on her toes.

"Pretty romantic," I breathed when she pulled back.

Her hands stroked down my chest and stomach to my hips, then back up again. "Well, I just... I find all these things, and I have nobody to show."

"Had to leave friends behind to come here, huh?"

"Yeah, sorta." She looked down, to the side. "We moved around quite a lot. I've never kept friends for very long."

"Why'd you move?"

"Parents' work."

"What do they do?"

"Like, sales."

"Can't that make quite a bit of money?"

"Only if sales go through."

She stepped away from me. Her mood had dropped, and I wondered if I'd said something wrong.

"Sorry."

She glanced back. "What? No... It's just... They spent a lot of money for me to come here, so I could do this, and not get drafted."

I can't claim that I understood exactly what it was like. I'd felt the drafting threat, but only because of my own stupid mistakes. Me going to university had never been a questioned thing. Of course I was going to do it. I was going to achieve my grades and my parents would cover whatever fees, and any debts would be worried about after graduation.

"It's like," she started, then paused. She was trying to open up about something but wasn't quite sure what to say. In a strange way, it reminded me of my father. I didn't push her. "I mean... maybe I'd go through the service and not even end up drafted anyways, and be one of the lucky ones. But I always knew if they got hold of me, I'd end up in."

"I guess you don't do yourself any favours being so physically fit."

She looked back at me with a grin. "I heard that one. Get yourself massively fat and they won't take you. Also heard it doesn't work. They just treat you worse and push you harder." She scuffed a foot at the rusty metal we stood on. "I think, there's just so many ways to get out of it, they seem to think that anyone who does end up in the service, deserves to be drafted."

It was a pretty serious conversation. What teenagers of our time hadn't spent ages bitching and moaning about the state of society? "The whole thing is a mess."

"Yeah, all the people rioting about it. The gangs."

"And the protesters."

"Yeah." She stepped back to me and wrapped her arms around my middle, head against my chest. "I'm doing this for my parents. I want to make them proud."

It made me smile. I kissed the top of her head and held her. We stood in silence for a while. She was warm, but it still wasn't quite enough. She felt me shudder and looked up at me. "Let's go."

There was a little bit of jogging on the way back, mostly to warm up. She didn't try pushing me again. The journey took much longer with our slower pace. More time to talk.

I wanted to ask things, but could sense her closing up if I asked too much. It was a normal reaction. I knew she'd tell me eventually, in her own time. That was how things went.

When we came to the street that would end at our typical corner, she tossed me a glance. "Race you."

No time to reply before she took off. An erupting sprint to the lamppost, my last chance to try and beat her at this. She was fucking fast. With her split second headstart, I barely overtook her.

And stopping on the frost that dusted the pavement was another matter. I almost skidded into a faceplant and she collided with me, bursting into laughter, knocking me down. My knee went right into her stomach. She keeled to the side, scrunched up, winded, gasping for air, and almost choked herself with more laughter when she tried to breathe.

"Shit," I chuckled. "Sorry. Sorry."

She smacked my shoulder with the flat of her palm, and sprawled on her back in the middle of the road, ribs heaving. "Prick," she managed.

I kissed her. Her fists clenched in my hoodie and she rolled me over, smothering me with panting and broken kisses while we tried to catch our breath. Her crotch rubbed against mine, she curved her spine and her breasts pressed into my chest. Shit. I wasn't going to catch my breath if she was doing this.

She sat up, straddling me, everything all to similar to our little moment at the park. My heart wasn't just racing from the running.

How do you hide a boner in loose tracksuits? You don't. That's how. She knew exactly what was going on, accentuated by a gyration of her hips. At least she didn't try to hold me down this time. The asphalt was freezing against my shoulders and arse.

"Come back with me," I said, sitting up.

She bit her lip, eyebrows twitching and dimples showing in her cheeks. "I know what you want."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No."

Her heat left me as she lifted herself, gripping my sleeve and pulling me up.

---

Violet

It was only a matter of time before one of us was taking the other 'home'. I hadn't tried coming onto David again all week. I thought Wesley would smack me over the head. It wasn't 'classy'.

So I had been waiting for David. Who had probably been waiting for me. But it didn't matter. I was quite content while he tugged my hand and led me down the road to wherever he lived. It was somewhere around 2am. Naked and hot in bed seemed like a great idea right then.

He used one key to get through the door of the building, and we scaled a stairwell up to the second level. Another key to open another door. His head turned sharply when we stepped inside, probably looking to see if anyone was awake. The lights were off.

He led me through a spacious lounge area with three sofas crowding a large TV, to a hallway with eight room doors, and what looked a bathroom at the far end. So it was just flats, provided by the university. The difference being that these were bigger, nicer, and more expensive, than the campus halls. All the richest students were probably in this building.

A couple of bedroom lights were on, showing through cracks of the doorframes. David stopped, used a third key to open his room's door, then let me through first, real gentleman like.

He locked it again behind us. The light came on and I scowled and squinted against it. For a moment we both seemed to have the same idea of taking our shoes off. Like we were completely relaxed, and there wasn't some crazy tension going on.

Then his hands were on me. Straight on the curves of my behind, fingers cold through the fabric. They slid around my hips to the front, up my stomach, over my chest. I shuddered head to toe and leant into him. He breathed against my ear, kissed my neck with the brush of facial hair and lips.

I was tingling all over. I needed him. I needed to feel him, all of him. Hear those sounds again like when I had him pinned against the tree.

I turned in his arms, pulled down the zipper of his hoodie, ripped it open, and pushed it as far off his shoulders as it could go without his co-operation. My voice wasn't much above a whisper. "Show me those muscles."

His laugh was like a harsh exhale of breath. I stepped back to get a better view while he freed himself from the sleeves. The anticipation was almost killing me. I knew he had to have a good body. It was the way clothes were tight in certain places. Subtle hints with even his forearms and neck.

Fuck, yes. The t-shirt lifted over his head to show the type of torso I'm sure plenty girls dream of. Defined stomach, rounded pecs, those big shoulders and heavy arms. Black hair on his chest, thinning out on his stomach before starting again below his navel. The tracksuits were just low enough on his hips to show that treasure trail. And they were tenting quite magnificently with his hard-on.

A chuckle rose from my throat. It wasn't that I was laughing at him, it was just erupting happiness, that he was gorgeous, and I was about to have this. I was straight back over to get a feel, but he jumped and flinched away.

"Your hands are fucking cold," he hissed.

"Mm-hm," I agreed, touching at one of his hard nipples. He flinched away again and tried to dodge around me, wheezing with that strained, airy laughter, struggling not to break into higher volume. I chased him to the bed. He tumbled to sit on the end and I collided with him, straddling his lap.

He kissed me, hungry and heavy, letting my cold hands stay on his warm chest. I got a nice feel of all that firm flesh, stroking up to his shoulders, feeling them flex beneath my touch. He was palming my butt again, pulling me closer against him. Then his fingers slid under my clothing, up my ribs, curiously feeling over my bra and the mounds beneath.

I pulled off my own hoodie and top together as one. His lips touched my neck and he reached around me to undo the clasp. The straps slipped over my shoulders and I tossed the bra to the growing pile on the floor.

It was as if he wanted to touch every bit of skin he could find, from my hips to my throat. My tits were exposed and he didn't even rush there. He eventually ran his hands over them before he cupped and squeezed. I guess I had enough to give him a handful. I'd never been generously bestowed and there wasn't exactly any spare fat on my body.

Not that he seemed to care. His lips, that scruffy beard, were all over me. Hands squeezed my waist, fingers almost digging in enough to hurt. He sucked on a nipple and I was swamped with all the pleasurable pulsing at the fork of my legs. Fabric of my underwear was sliding against me as I ground against him. He tugged, gently, with his teeth. I moaned.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed. I ran my fingers through his hair and pressed into him. He fell on his back, pulling me down.

"How do you want this?" I asked, laying my body across his, feeling all that heat and musculature.

"I don't know. I just want you."

As sexy as his hoarse whispers might've been, a part of me wished we didn't have to be so quiet. I'd have liked to hear that rumbling voice in his chest right then.

It was a strange feeling that I really... cared. I suppose I felt like I owed something to him. Like it was my duty to show him a good time. I wanted him to enjoy it. I wanted him to enjoy me. My past experiences had bordered on selfish, only caring about myself, about how good I could feel. Sitting on faces, riding them, using their bodies to satisfy my drive. I had only been there to take what I wanted, then leave.

It was different now. I... I didn't want to leave. I didn't want David to leave. I wanted to make him mine.

I ran my hands down that torso, and shifted myself to pull off his tracksuits. He was special. He was my key, to everything. His wellbeing mattered more than anything in the world.

His fingers hooked in my waistband to finish undressing me. We were naked, kissing, rolling and tangling limbs. He wasn't rushing, and I let him set the pace.

The brush of his hand ventured from my throat, over my breasts, down my stomach, to the wetness between my thighs. He explored with gentle strokes before pressing harder, rubbing the swollen nub of my clit. He didn't have to be an expert at it, I was horny enough for the slightest friction to push me over the edge. My legs and stomach tensed, the pattern of my breathing shattered, and I didn't even try to keep my moaning quiet.

I was lost in a moment of bliss. He made a sound, a soft grunt, like he was surprised, but loved what he was seeing.

He was rolling on top of me before the sensation even finished. I lifted my hips to guide him, head of his cock stroking through my fluids to find the spot. I wrapped my legs around him and took him in with one hard push against his body. He gasped and moaned, his hands gripped my sides. He filled me in a perfect way. Not too much, not too little.

He slid almost all the way out, then thrusted back in, and did it a few more times, feeling me, feeling how to move. The slow strokes against my insides felt incredible, but I needed more. There was power in that body, I wanted to feel it. All of it. All of him.

I bucked against his movements, arched my back. "C'mon, you lil' virgin. Show me what you got."

He chuckled, and leant down to kiss me. He moved harder, faster, until he was doing little more than holding my hips and pounding me. I held on for the ride. It was new for me also, but I don't think I'd ever smiled so much, enjoyed myself so much. It didn't have to be perfect, it didn't have to be anything more than what it was. My body was loving it, like every nerve ending was on fire.

His movements lost rhythm, his breathing heavy. I rolled him over, almost a tangled wrestle with the duvet. "Tired?"

He splayed against the pillows, ribs flinching with more laughter that he struggled to keep quiet. "You take me out running for miles, and want me to last all night?"

I straddled him, leant my weight on his chest. "You need practise."

"Yeah? You gonna show me?"

I slid my slit along the length of his shaft, felt it twitch beneath me. "I'm surprised you've lasted this long."

He breathed out a moan. "Ride me."

"You like that? Like at the park?"

I pushed down on him when he tried to reply, enjoying the muffled grunt. His hands slid up to my tits, then back down to my thighs, holding me as I started to move. I rode him how I knew, squeezing around him in a steady rhythm. His eyes were closed, then open, looking at my body, at my face. The light was catching every green shade in his irises. Yes, his horny eyes were amazing in reality.

He bucked up to meet me every time I came down. His eyes closed again, his body went rigid. His breathing grew faster, louder, before it hit him in waves. It was almost an airy growl that came from his throat, and my heart raced. I could feel his own thudding hard beneath my hands, as if it would burst from his chest cavity.

His rigid muscles relaxed, and he breathed out a contented sound.

His eyes didn't open right away. His hand went to his brow, brushing back some sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. Then he looked up at me, still sitting on his hips, on his dick, and smiled. It spread into a grin. He sat up to kiss me and I stroked his tongue with mine, raked my fingers through his hair. I liked his taste, I liked his smell, I liked his feel.

He laid back against the pillows. In that moment of afterglow I didn't really want to move, didn't really want the sensation to end, but he was softening inside of me. I pulled up, he slid out, fluids dripped onto his stomach.

"Fuck sake," he said.

"S'gonna happen every time," I replied, purposely moving up a little to spread even more mess. "Apparently you come buckets. Get used to it."