Page 50 of Fuckboy Psychos (Scarlett Force 1)
“No Widow tonight?” he queries, a strange note in his words that I don’t care to examine. “He doesn’t want to masturbate to us again?”
Oh. Shit. I wasn’t aware that Bohnes knew about that. But of course he does. Why should I be surprised? He knows everything that happens at Prescott High—maybe even more so than I do. He’s the shadow of the school, the cleaner, the fixer if you will.
It’s his job to mop up the messes the other students create—for a price. And he will do quite literally anything for the right amount of cash. Maybe even fuck someone? I have no idea because I never asked. That isn’t the type of transaction that we have.
He runs his fingers through my hair. It’s loose for once and falling in thick shiny waves around my shoulders. My mother has pin-straight hair while my father has springy curls. I wound up with something in-between. Usually, I blow it out to keep it straight, but it takes hours. I couldn’t be fucked tonight.
Gooseflesh tears across my bare skin as Bohnes rubs the dark strands between his fingers and then proceeds to caress them with his cheek.
“I’m having a party tonight. Will you come?” he asks, and my breath releases in a rush. Will I? Of course I will. I could use it, after the week I’ve had. Between Lemon and Aspen and Emma Jean, I need a break.
“Maybe,” I respond coyly, letting out a gasp as Bohnes uses my hair to yank me closer to him, until his body is curved over mine, a monstrous shadow consuming my spirit as I continue to smoke the cigarette and he begins to lick and kiss and suck on my neck again.
“Tell me what’s going on between you and Widow,” he growls out, and I shiver again, the cigarette spinning from my fingers and landing on the forest floor. Bohnes smashes it with his boot, caging me in between his legs as he wraps both of his huge arms around me.
Without a shirt on, with the barely-there dress I’m wearing, I can feel his naked skin all over mine, and my pussy goes nuts. I react to him in a way I’ve never reacted to another guy before. My thoughts are filled with carnal images that become dreams, that shift into wishes that absolutely must be filled.
“Nothing’s going on with Widow,” I explain, and then I’m gasping as Bohnes yanks my black dress up my hips, pushing my panties below my butt cheeks before he cups my bare heat from the front. It’s a strong grip, a possessive one.
We’ve been over this more than once—I don’t want a boyfriend.
I want a fuckboy, a sidepiece, some free-range cock.
“Really?” Bohnes hisses at me, and then he bites me again, hard enough that I throw my head back into him, my cunt rubbing against his hand. “That’s not what it looked like when I caught you fucking yourself in his ‘Vette.”
He slides a single finger up my folds, and I choke back a gasp.
“He got cum all over my car—I had to return the favor,” I breathe, loving the feeling of freedom that comes with being around Bohnes. He’s nothing to me; I’m nothing to him. But at the same time, we’re both monsters made out of Prescott’s shadows, and we both know all the sordid things that happen in and around our neighborhood. We’re not rivals nor are we allies; we can just be honest with each other. “That’s all it is.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted to fuck him,” he accuses, sliding two fingers inside of me and causing my knees to buckle. This time, he lets me fall, following me into the leaves as I roll onto my back and Bohnes stares down at my red panties, tangled around my thighs.
He reaches out and curls his fingers around them, sliding them down my legs and then tucking them into his back pocket.
“I’m going to wrap these panties around my cock later and jack off into them, swipe the cum from my tip with your pussy-scented lace.” He drops down to all fours above me, and then he takes my mouth with his.
He tastes like the cigarette we both just smoked, but since it was a clove, it’s like kissing a Christmas cookie or something—but tainted just a little. Tainted. This whole encounter is tainted.
My arms wrap around his neck, even though this is dangerous territory to be wading in.
Bohnes jerks away from me, panting and laughing both at the same time.
“Don’t lie to me, Scarlett Force,” he repeats, staring down at me from those eyes, the ones that have as much warmth as an arctic glacier. He lets his attention slip down, away from my face to my breasts, and then further still, down to my naked cunt.
