Hold Me Close(67)

I’ll eat your * until you scream, Bill typed, and Effie had to stifle a groan.

She didn’t answer this text, either, though she saw the three small dots that indicated Bill was still typing. Before he could finish, she got another message, this one from Dee, apologizing that she’d have to cancel because the school had called her to come get Meredith, who had a fever. By the time she finished typing her reply to Dee, Bill’s next text had buzzed through.

I’ll make you come so hard you forget your name.

Oh, universe, Effie thought. What lesson are you trying to teach me?

Promises, promises, Effie typed. I’ll be over in half an hour.

* * *

On her knees, Effie took Bill’s cock down her throat. Her hand at the base kept him from going too deep and gagging her, while her other hand cradled his balls. He thrust with a groan. He wasn’t pulling her hair. She wanted him to, she’d asked him to, and he had for a minute or so, barely hard enough, and then let go.

Effie loosed his cock from her lips with an audible pop and looked up at him. “Fuck my mouth.”

Bill looked down at her with narrowed eyes, hazy gaze. His mouth was wet. From his tongue or from her cunt, she wasn’t sure, but she liked to think it was because a minute or so ago he’d been face-first in her *. Her clit throbbed, and she slid a hand between her legs to stroke herself as she went back to sucking him.

She was close, so very close, but she hadn’t quite made it when he flooded her mouth. She’d barely swallowed when Bill pulled her to her feet and kissed her. Their teeth clashed. His hand went between her legs, found her slick and open. He f*cked into her with his fingers, his thumb on her clit. Still, wasn’t nearly enough. She wanted it to be. Effie wanted to come so much it was all she could think about. Too long without that pleasure, even from her own hand. She wanted to come the way normal people did, easily or with effort, but she hadn’t had an orgasm since the last time with Heath.

She didn’t want to think about him now, but it was the memory of his taste that washed away Bill’s flavor. Heath’s touch, his kiss, his face in front of hers. She might hate it, she might not want it, but there it was, and oh, f*ck yes, then she was coming and coming and coming while Bill murmured words of encouragement to her.

They were on his bed before she quite knew how they got there. Not cuddling, though the way she was feeling, she might have let him. Bill snored lightly and Effie curled onto her side but facing him, so she could, if she wanted to, reach out and touch his face.

Quietly, she got out of bed and went into his bathroom to take a shower. She would be cutting it close, getting home in time for Polly to get off the bus, and she didn’t want to greet her daughter stinking of sex. She didn’t luxuriate but scrubbed herself quickly and got out without even wetting her hair. At his sink, she rinsed her mouth and spat, then again. She could still taste him.


He was still sleeping when she came back into the room, and she sat on the edge of the bed next to him. She put her hand on his bare hip, thinking he might wake up and hoping he wouldn’t. Then they’d have to talk, and she didn’t feel like talking to Bill right now. She let her fingers slide down his flank, feeling the crisp hairs curling against her knuckles.

She used him. He used her. They’d been doing this a long time, and there was no reason for her to think it had to change. But it would, if she gave Mitchell the answer he’d been hoping for. Everything would change then.

“Bill.” He didn’t answer, so she poked him a little harder. “Bill, wake up.”

“Shhh... Wha...” Grumbling, he opened his eyes and frowned. “What?”

“I was on a date with that guy in the coffee shop. I’ve seen him a few times. He’s asking me to make it exclusive.”

Bill yawned. “Yeah. So?”

“So, doesn’t that bother you?” She poked him again, taking a small pleasure in the way he winced and put a hand over hers to stop her from doing it again.

Bill let out a low, muttered string of curses. He sat up. “No. Should it?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Do you want it to bother me? Christ, Effie, I’m tired. I worked the night shift,” Bill complained.

Effie got up. “You weren’t too tired to have your dick in my mouth.”

“And you put it there, so what’s the f*cking problem?” Bill yawned again. “You want to go on dates? So, what? Go. Hell, get married if you want to. Isn’t that what all girls want, eventually?”

“What’s so wrong with that?” Effie demanded, crossing her arms. “What’s so wrong with wanting to find someone to be with who cares about you? It’s what people do, Bill, unless they’re too f*cked up to ever even try.”

“Well, that’s you and me, isn’t it? Too f*cked up to even try?” Bill winked.

Effie sneered. “I hate you. You know that?”

“You wish you could hate me,” Bill said and rolled back into the blankets, pulling them up over his shoulders. “Keep trying. Maybe you’ll get there.”

* * *

The whispers stop when Effie enters the locker room. It’s been months since she came home. You’d think everyone would have something else to gossip about, but nope, it’s still her. Her father says she could stay home, get private tutoring. Switch schools, even, but Effie said no. This story will follow her anyway, no matter where she goes. At least here she knows these kids. It’s easier to brush off the rumors and looks when she knows that Rachel Franklin wet the bed up until the sixth grade and Courtney Spenser’s dad went to jail for drunk driving.