Eighteen (18)(19)

He waits for half a second and when I say nothing, he starts kissing me on my neck. “Say yes,” he whispers. I get a chill down my spine and that tingly feeling is back. “Say yes, Shannon. Because I’m not going to keep going until you say no. We’re not having the rape conversation again.”

He kisses me on the lips, gentle this time, our connection longer, our tongues slower. My hands come up to his neck, something I do when I’m getting turned on. But he pulls me outside, grabs my wrists, and pushes me up against the stucco wall.

I stare up at him feeling a little helpless, but at the same time, I know I can stop him with one word.

Make him continue with one word as well. It’s my choice.

“Yes.” I say it before I change my mind. I know this is a bad idea. Everything about him is a bright red flag for me. But I said it, and his hands are already back where I want them. Squeezing my breast and slipping into my shorts. He fingers me, little flicks across my clit. It sends intense sensations through my body.

“Take your clothes off.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to repeat everything, Shannon. And I don’t want to explain everything. Just f*cking do it.”

I look towards the alley.

“No one can see. There’s a seven-foot-tall gate.”

I look the other direction. There’s another patio just fifteen feet away.

“No one can see you there, either. This is a very private patio. Consider it your initiation.”

“Init—”

“Stop talking,” he says with a finger over my lips. “And take your f*cking clothes off.” He growls that last part and my heart thumps. His fingertips play with the hem of my shirt, tickling my belly. “Off.”

I stare him in the eyes as I reach down and grab my tank top and begin lifting it over my head. He steps back a few paces, like he needs to get a better look at me. I hold the small bit of fabric in my hand and wait.

He smiles and takes my shirt, stuffing it in his back pocket. “Now those.” He points to my shorts. I glance inside real quick to check on Olivia.

“She’s sleeping. I can see her from here. Off.”

I take a few deep breaths. What the f*ck am I doing? But I’m already unbuttoning my shorts. I pull the zipper down, look up at Mateo—he’s smiling—and then wiggle them over my hips and let them fall to the ground at my feet.

“Are you afraid?”

“Should I be?” I whisper back in a small voice that comes off as very much afraid.

“You tell me, Shannon. My opinion doesn’t matter.”

I hook my thumbs into the elastic of my panties and let them drop to the ground as well. When I look up at Mateo, he’s like a wolf. Like he wants to eat me alive.

“Should I leave you like this?”

“What?”

“Are you wet?”

I let out a long breath and nod.

“Show me.”

Jesus. This man. He’s not gonna be easy. He’s gonna make me work for everything.

“Show me,” he says again, only this time with more force.

I reach down between my legs and play with myself, gathering the wetness on the tips of my fingers. I hold them up and they glisten in the light filtering through from the freeway.

He steps forward again, closing the distance between us, takes my fingers in his hand and places them in his mouth.

I have to close my eyes. My knees get a little weak and I’m eternally grateful that this stucco wall is holding me up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Shannon.”

“What?” I gasp.

But he’s already turned away. “Mateo,” I whisper-yell. “Mateo.”

“Stay away from Danny Alexander, Shannon. He’s bad news.”

And then Mateo pushes the gate open and walks through.

“Who the f*ck is Danny Alexander?” I ask myself.





Chapter Twelve




I figure it out, of course. Sunday is Danny Alexander. I just didn’t know his last name.

A second later I get a text.



Unknown Number: I mean it. Stay away from him. Walk to school tomorrow.

Shannon: Who is this?

Unknown Number: Funny girl. I’ll make you pay for that tomorrow in class.

Shannon: I think I owe you one, actually. So I’ll take that ride and let him know I don’t need any more on the way. I’m not going to drop a friend for a guy like you.

Unknown Number: What kind of guy am I?

Shannon: The kind who gets me wet and leaves me hanging.



My phone rings and I almost drop it. “Hello?”

“Rub one out while I’m on the phone then.”

“What?”

“Shannon, I’m serious about saying things twice. I hate it. Don’t ask me for clarification when you heard me perfectly well.”

“I’m not—”

“You are. Now go into your bedroom, lie down on your futon, and play with yourself until you come.”

I just stand there.

“Let me know when you’re in bed.”

I let out a frustrated exhale, but I walk to my room, slip inside, and lie down.

“Turn on the light.”

“Why?”