Vicious love barrington.., p.10

Vicious Love (Barrington Heights #1), page 10


Vicious Love (Barrington Heights #1)

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  I followed her into the room, quickly surveying my surroundings. The class was set up in a normal fashion; there wasn’t anything special about it. Something was weird though. I couldn’t place it until Jennet sat on her desk and turned towards me. It was the atmosphere. Her tone, specifically. It wasn’t aggressive, nor was it forceful. Her tone, the atmosphere, seemed, rather, to be determined. Jennet had something on her mind, and she had a plan. I didn’t know how I felt about that. Scared was a possibility.

  “So, Christopher, what was it that you had in mind?” She paused and then resumed. “About economics, of course.” A slight blush swept across her cheeks, and Jennet took a hand and brushed a stray hair from her face, opening up her eyes to me. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Honestly,” I managed to sputter out, “econ is one of my favorite subjects.” She didn’t seem surprised by that. As if she’d already known. “Which means that I would rather learn background history or—“

  “Or?” she interrupted.

  “Or I would rather enjoy learning more about you.” By now, all of my confidence had returned and we were looking at each other. We remained silent for what seemed like an eternity. However, it was only a few seconds while we stared at each other. Looking into each other’s eyes. Silence.

  “I guess I could tell you a little about myself. It might help to teach you if you know about your professor.” She’d broken the silence. She’d lost. There is a common rule, a law if you will, when it comes to conversation: Whoever breaks the silence loses and is at the mercy of their other.

  “Then, by all means,” I said while moving to sit on a desk.

  “Where should I start?” she asked, clearly nervous.

  “The beginning is always ideal.” I laughed.

  “Well, I was born in L.A.,” Jennet responded just as I would’ve expected. She was starting from where she’d been born, a common conception for where they begin. However, my views are vastly different. I believe that people are born neutral, in that they aren’t themselves yet. Most people become who they are a little ways after birth, but Jennet wasn’t most people. Either Jennet must’ve had a definitive moment where she’d become who she was or she hadn’t discovered who she truly was yet.

  “No, no, no. That’s where you were born, not necessarily where the beginning is.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”

  I knew she didn’t understand. Maybe explaining it would do more harm than good. Then again, it might open up an entire new world to Jennet, giving me an emotional in. Wait. Why the hell do I want an emotional in?

  “That’s okay,” I laughed. “Not many people do.” Where the hell was I going with this? “A birth doesn’t necessarily sanctify the beginning of a person.” Vague enough. Keep it up, Chris.

  “But birth is when a person enters this world.” She was correct here—technically.

  “In a physical sense, yes. However, an infant has a different outlook on life than an adult. Vastly different. So I categorize the beginning as when a person discovers their true outlook. That person’s true perspective.” I either sounded really intelligent, which I was, or incredibly stupid, which I also was but in a different sense.

  “Fair enough, but I still don’t understand.” She spoke with such as soft voice, but I could tell it was a mask. Jennet was hiding her true tone, the tone I’d caught on to earlier. She was trying to set something up, trying to lead me in. It’s amazing what someone can spot when they’re properly trained.

  “Jennet.” I used her first name and she gave me the look of death. “Yes, Jennet. What is it that you want?”

  Her eyes widened—and not because I’d called her Jennet. She was caught and desperately wondering what had given her away. I could see it in both of her eyes and her body language. More specifically, how she held herself after I’d asked her. Jennet’s first reaction had been to recoil into herself. Perhaps it was a character flaw, but that was unlikely due to the timing of her reaction. She would’ve started in that position if it were due to a character flaw. It wouldn’t have been a reaction. Well, it might have been. I’m not a professional, just someone who’s trained.

  “Straight to the point?” she asked, and I nodded my head. “Very well.” She paused, tilting her head as though she was looking for the right wording.

  I took the opportunity to move closer, to create minimal space between us. There was only a foot between us now, and she was forced to look into my eyes.

  ‘Do you know my fiancé?”

  Her fiancé? “No, I don’t.” Who the fuck was her fiancé, and why was she asking me if I knew him?

  “Well, it seems that he might know you.”

  My heart started beating at a rapid pace. Who in God’s name was her fiancé?

  “How the hell does he know me if I don’t know who he is?” Jennet glared at me for cursing, but I continued anyway. “What’s the man’s name?”

  “Barry,” she said without telling me his last name.

  “Barry who?”

  Jennet stood there, and I inched closer. This wasn’t a time for flirting. This Barry character could be working with Nugent. It was possible if he knew who I was. Or, worse, he could be a cop.

  “Bouldore. Barry Bouldore.”

  I didn’t recognize the name. “How do you know that he knows me?”


  “Well, get on with it.” I wasn’t in any mood. Things needed to happen, and they needed to happen now. If Barry Bouldore was working for Nugent, then I had a major issue. If he wasn’t, then I still had a major issue.

  “I found a book.” Jennet paused. “A small, black book. And it had your name in it.”

  “What’s special about this book?” I asked.

  “It was hiding.” Another pause, and I inched even closer. “In a safe.”

  Now we were practically nose to nose, and I was standing above her beautiful body. The smell of her made me weak. Jasmine.

  “It was with a stack of money and a gun.”

  Now I was worried.

  “Who the fuck is your fiancé?”

  She turned away from me, and I grabbed her arm, pulling her into me. Our lips were mere inches apart, and we were eye locked.

  I whispered this time, leaning in as close as I could without touching her lips with mine. “Who is he?” The man who’d called me could be her fiancé. It had to be. He was the closest person to her and my only info on the unidentified caller was that they were related to Jennet somehow.

  Jennet stumbled backwards. Not because she was trying to escape from me, but because it seemed that she was too weak. Was it because of me? Had she buckled because of me? The thought excited me. It increased my heart rate, and my breathing intensified. I felt high. So very high, and it was fabulous. This was a feeling of pure euphoria, and I couldn’t wait anymore. I needed to kiss her. I began to move in close, leaning in to capture her lips. I had the full intention to initiate the kiss, to be a man. To take what I wanted, and I deserve it, too. Before I could manage to, however, she was on me. Her lips, soft, smashed into mine. A cavalcade of interesting events happened afterward. Jennet first kissed me, her elegant lips crushing into mine with a massive amount of force driving behind them. Enough to nearly tear me from existence. Then, as we both recoiled from what had happened, she stopped. Everything stopped. Time, existence, light, sound—it all disappeared into the void of the cosmos, leaving us alone in a confined space. Don Quixote’s famous words ran through my ears again. “Dulcinea, Dulcinea,” he spoke through the void, breaking the silence. The silence. Silence. It was so quiet.

  We stood there, in our own paradise, waiting for one of us to truly break the silence. Not just my own deranged imagination speaking only to me, but real, actual words. Words that could pierce the barrier between us, between Jennet and me. I desperately searched for those words, and my mind was thrown into some sort of frenzy that would make the likes of Gary Busey jealous. Insanity is what was happening to me. Pure insanity set of
f by some mystical force thrust upon me, which derived from this divine creature in front of me—Jennet. This paradise, separate from the rest of the world—hell, the rest of the universe—seemed perfect to me. I had no desire to break the silence, to pierce the barrier, now. I was content; I was happy.

  It couldn’t be enough though. I wanted more; I needed more.

  My hand, which I felt as if I had no control of at this moment, slipped away from me and placed itself on Jennet’s cheek. She didn’t move, not even a twitch. Her eyes were locked on me, and I could see her desire. I began to pull her close, and she responded without fighting back. Jennet wanted me, and my entire body was engulfed in red-hot flames. We were mere inches away again, but this time, I was ready. I was in control. I brought her to me, and I landed a kiss on her lips.

  Our mouths met and lips parted. Her hands swept across my shoulders, examining them. They traveled down my arms, settling on my biceps, and from there, they darted up towards my head, grabbing my hair and pulling me closer. Our tongues met and twirled around each other, exploring each other’s mouths. Deeper and deeper we went.

  As the world was spinning around us, as we were locked in time and space, as divinity shined down upon us, I crumbled. Everything came back to reality, and there we were. Jennet, a woman of so much beauty that she resembled that of an angel, and I, a creature of evil and vice, were in the middle of a passionate kiss. I couldn’t allow it to continue. I pulled back, away from the light that brilliantly shone before me. Reality was too dark, and she couldn’t be real.

  When I could finally pull myself away from her, Jennet objected. Not with words, that is. She couldn’t speak. I didn’t believe either of us could speak, but rather she objected with body movement. Once I was away, Jennet lunged back at me, and I had to push her back. I had to leave, but I didn’t know why. I turned towards the door and started to make my escape. However, temptation got the better of me; I had to have the last word.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Beaumont.” With that, I left her standing there.

  The walk back to my car was treacherous. Not physically, mind you. There wasn’t any present danger. It was mentally treacherous. I had never walked away before like that, and my mind was wondering why. Every other part of me, my entire body, was fighting me. Wanting me to go back, but my mind, my brain, was telling me to leave. For the first time, I decided to follow my mind rather than my body.

  Why, I wondered. What was I feeling? My questioning was interrupted by something. I turned around to see if I was being followed, but I wasn’t. There was that creeping feeling that I was being followed. However, simple examination showed otherwise. Every few steps, though, I would look back inconspicuously to make sure. Just in case. Once I was comfortable that I wasn’t being followed, my mental questioning and battle presumed.

  “Why do I feel this way about her?” I asked myself, unable to find the answers through conventional logic. Now, I was in my bed, and my car ride home hadn’t been much more successful in answering my own questions. No matter how I’d analyzed it, I hadn’t been able to find a logical reason for how I felt. Normally, I would just manipulate Jennet into sleeping with me. I thought I might have done something similar involuntarily though.

  “I don’t even know her,” I told myself, trying to find a reason to stop everything I was feeling. There was only one solution—I had to fuck someone and see how I felt afterward. I looked down at my phone and had two immediate choices: Christine or Audrey. I’d slept with Audrey yesterday, so I decided to text Christine and ask if she was busy. She replied no and even asked me to come over.

  I drove to her place and wasted no time in testing my hypothesis. Well, I hadn’t really had a chance to not test it, because after I knocked on the door, Christine kissed me and pulled me inside. There I was, again, inside Christine’s apartment, and she was undressing me. She lifted up my shirt, placed a hand on my six-pack, and shuddered. Then she dropped to her knees and unbuckled my pants, revealing my semi-hard seven-inch cock. She took it into her mouth and began blowing me.

  There was one thing I’d noticed so far. Although I was physically into it—Christine was a fucking pro—my mind just wasn’t into it. I wasn’t mentally horny, just physically. Soon, though, everything changed when Christine took off her top, revealing her gorgeous breasts. 36 Cs—my favorite size.

  I took one of her perfectly shaped nipples into my mouth and twirled it with my tongue, gently nibbling on the tip. Christine’s breathing increased and she was letting out soft moans, an indication of a good job. But I don’t do good jobs; I do the ‘never going to forget that orgasm’ job.

  I waited for her to release a moan, and right between two of them, I picked her up and literally threw her onto her bed. I gripped her pants, broke the buttons, and pulled them down. Then I took my left hand and grabbed her throat while my left reached down to her pussy and began rubbing, searching for her clit through her panties. Her eyes widened after she realized that she’d lost control, but not in fear. Rather, Christine’s eyes portrayed pure delight and fascination.

  I soon found her clit and ferociously began rubbing it. Almost immediately, her body began shaking. Not wanting her to orgasm yet, I stopped torturing her clit and grasped her around her pussy lips before I pushed her farther up on the bed. Christine started pouting because she couldn’t finish so quickly, but I took her once again by surprise by tearing her panties off. They looked expensive, but they were nothing I couldn’t pay for.

  By this time, my penis was fully erect, standing a full seven and one half inches. Not the largest in the world, but it had girth and the look of being a monster—a reflection of my inner self. I had one pulsing vein that ran from the head to the base, and there was a distinct crescent-shaped curve along the shaft. Christine was biting her lip as she reached out to take it in her hand, most likely trying to guide it down to her snatch. I swatted her hand away, grabbed her by the hair, and pushed Christine’s mouth onto it. She enthusiastically sucked my cock, using a twirling motion with her tongue around the head that nearly set me off too early.

  All thoughts of a scientific test evaporated from my mind and were quickly replaced with feelings of anger. My plans quickly switched from making this encounter something scientific into making it a way for me to release my anger, and Christine was going to be the recipient. I pulled her by the hair, and she let out a loud gasp but didn’t say ouch before she threw her head backwards.

  I then dove down to her pussy, spreading her lips and abusing her clit with my tongue. She couldn’t breathe. My tongue darted around and aggressively flicked her clit while I pushed my thumb past her lips, delving deep into her pussy. My left hand was in her, my right was spreading her lips, and my tongue was focused on her clit. Christine began begging to orgasm, no doubt remembering the last time when I’d deprived her of one because it was coming up too early. I didn’t respond. Instead, to show her that my answer was no, I took out my thumb.

  “Please put it back in!” Christine begged.

  This time, I decided to tease her by putting in my thumb and then “popping” it out. I did this a couple of times while she tried pushing her hips into me, attempting to make me put something inside her. When she finally gave up and started to relax her hips, I took my hand and touched all five fingers at the tips. Then I waited for her to show the signs of coming, and right when she lifted up her hips, I pushed my hand into her pussy.

  Christine screamed as I dug my hand into her, trying to get my knuckles past her pubic bone. Eventually, I did, and my wrist disappeared inside her. I violently began thrusting my left arm back and forth while tightly clenching my hand. As I fisted her, Christine arched her back and exploded into a massive orgasm. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and her hands were pulling at her own hair. Her body kept on arching, about four or five times, before she settled down. Christine moaned as I pulled my hand out and replaced it with my fully erect penis.

  I fucked her in that position for a solid five m
inutes, until I got bored. When I pulled out, Christine began to object, but I grabbed her by the pussy and she stayed quiet. Then, once I had a firm grip on both her pussy and her right ass cheek, I flipped her over straight into doggy. With her head in the pillows—and my hand keeping it there—I slid my cock between her wet, starving lips and thrust back and forth. Not hard, but enough to make her body move with mine. When I had my balance and felt like I was ready, I released my anger by slamming myself into her, pushing my dick in until it was hitting her cervix, making her whimper. My thrusts quickened in speed, and I pushed harder and harder. I clasped my right hand on her ass cheek then slapped it again and again as Christine whimpers got louder and louder until they became cries.

  “Oh my god! Oh my god!” Christine screamed as began to come again. “Fuck me! Hard! Go harder!” Her tone changed completely, and I was going as hard as I could. At least I thought I was. “Dammit, Chris, I said harder!”

  The tables might have been turned as I desperately tried to fuck her harder. My legs were aching, but I wasn’t even close to finishing yet. My body was red and sweat was pouring down my back, but I managed to go harder. Harder and harder I fucked her, but it wasn’t enough for Christine.

  “Here. I’m taking top.” Christine moved and slithered on top of me, pushing me down by my chest. She dug her nails into my chest and scratched her way down to my hips. It was her time to have control, and I was in trouble.

  She slid onto my erect penis and began to ride me in cowgirl position. I reached up and took one nipple into my mouth as she pulled my hair. My tongue and teeth tried to dish out as much damage as she was giving to me, but I couldn’t keep up. Her body was pounding into mine, and the slapping sound where our flesh met could probably be heard all the way to the first floor.

  This was now a battle for supremacy, who was going to be in control. It had to be me, and I knew exactly how to do it. When Christine crashed down and slid all the way to the base of my penis, I grabbed her by the shoulders and flipped her onto her back. Now I was on top and Christine was furious. Luckily, she couldn’t speak through her moans. Her nails dug into my back, which only made me grow harder. Soon, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and I exploded.

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