46

Fuck Me

‘Ride’ had been an understatement. This was an exhilarating, terrifying, roller coaster. The one where you felt like you’re going to die, and then couldn’t believe your luck when you were still alive ten minutes later. Except, it took more than ten minutes to get to the end of this ride.

“Is she freaking out? I don’t want her freaking out, Bry.”

“It’s Bryce, and she’s not freaking out. Of course, if you’re going to keep asking her that, then you’re probably going to make her freak out.”

“Shit, you’re right. Shit, I’m sorry, Kay.”

“Is ‘kay,” she managed, through a jaw too tight for much more. “Feel weird.”

“That’s the point,” Bryce said. His voice sounded like it came from far away — further than there was space in the room. And, with her eyes closed, it was too easy to imagine that the room had dissolved and that there was nothing except their bed on a vast plane of unending nothingness.

Infinity, and beyond.

“Can I touch you?” Bryce asked.

She wanted to reply, but it seemed like too much effort, especially when thoughts of nothingness and infinity were so very burdensome on her fragile mind.

When he touched her, she shuddered hard.

“Angel, go get some lotion.”

There was movement; furious, harried. The sound of Angel’s voice, muttering about lotion and how nice that would be when she found it. What it would smell like. If that would be nice, too. A sincere hope that she didn’t see chamomile anything because she fucking hated chamomile.

“Can you open your eyes, Kelly?”

The sound of him saying her name shot something delicious and electric through her. She levered open lids that felt too heavy to be natural and tried focusing on his face. It kept blurring until he took her face in his hands and held on tight.

“There we go. Sure Angel only gave you half?”

She gave a small nod. Then a shake of her head. A brief memory — Angel’s palm and the tiny white pill on it — formed before vanishing. That happened so long ago, she could hardly remember.

“Hey, you’re going to get through this. Just focus on me or Angel. Actually, just me — she’s a bit strung out right now. Can you do that?”

She nodded again.

“Music too loud?”

She shook her head. It was more background noise, up here. But the thought of going downstairs made her shiver — that would probably burst her eardrums.

Bryce smiled.

It was phenomenal, that smile. God, but he was so damn good looking. Now that she was focusing on him, it seemed impossible to stop. She searched his face, taking in every pore, every crease, every glossy strand of dark hair that made up his eyebrows. The smile faded as he searched her face too. When his gaze touched her mouth, every inch of her skin — even the bit between her damn toes — began tingling in response.

She let out a long, stuttering breath when he found her hand and twined his fingers through hers. And when his eyes crinkled, his face on the edge of a smile that never came, she lost all rigidity in her bones and muscles. She slumped, almost falling over the side of the bed.

“Whoa! Hey, easy there.” Hands caught her, wrestled her back on the bed. “Yeah, I see what’s going on here. Hang on, I’m coming round.”

The room winked out of existence, replaced with that black nothing behind her eyes. Except it pulsed now. Colors sprang up, dashing fireworks over her vision. Brighter the longer she looked. More spectacular with every iteration. Her eyes flickered from left to right, trying to follow. Failing.

“Have some.” The voice was in her ear.

Weed stank up the air an instant later, and she recoiled, her eyes flashing open. Bryce crouched beside the bed, looking like a complete stranger in a white robe, hair mussed, barely a strip of iris encircling his dilated pupils. When had he had time to roll a joint?

“No.”

“It’ll bring you down.”

“Down?”

“You don’t sound like you’re enjoying up much. So down it is.”

“Down.” She tried to grab the joint but kept missing it.

“Don’t stress; depth perception’s a little fucked, is all. Here.”

The joint blurred when he brought it closer to her mouth. The filter poked between her lips, dry and rough, and she tugged warily at it. The smoke was thick. Warm. Acrid. But smooth, so unbelievably soft. It sank into her stomach and coiled there like a hot snake.

“And out again?” Bryce prompted.

She exhaled enough smoke to blur the air around her.

“Another.”

The second hit tasted of potpourri. But she gulped greedily at it, loving the silky feel of that potent smoke filling her lungs.

“And out, remember?”

It was everywhere now. Bryce rose into a cloud of smoke, disappearing like a phantom. When he reappeared, it was without his robe. There was the suggestion of dark fabric — briefs or boxers — before he lifted the side of the blanket and slid in behind her on the bed.

A pair of bare legs wrapped around her, then arms encircled her. She sank back against him, sighing at the warmth and wave of comfort the solidity of his body brought with it.

“Better now?”

She arched her back, relishing in the feel of his body against hers. “Better.”

“Hey, relax.”

Hands trailed down her face, her neck, her shoulders. Her eyes had fused shut, so she had only sound to go on. That and physical sensation. Which was still in abundance; as if every nerve ending on her skin had been switched to high gear, but with the weed, it was as if they were vibrating at a lower frequency now.

“You find it?” Bryce’s chest rumbled against her back when he spoke. “Great. Over here. What, this it?”

A clank, something plastic tapping against something else.

“There’s more. Should I bring it? This one smells like strawberries. Love strawberries. But there’s others. She’s got, too. Should I bring those instead? Would she like hers?”

Kelly shivered at Angel’s voice — it was so much higher, far more abrasive than Bryce’s.

“Can you be quiet?”

“What? Of course. Sure I can.”

“Shush would you?”

“What? Why?”

“Someone’s trying to zone out here, and you’re not helping.”

“Can I help?”

“Shutting up’s helping.”

“Okay,” Angel whispered.

The bed sank down as the girl climbed on. Cool air slithered in under the blanket, and then more warm flesh encircled her legs. Someone moved them into a cross-legged position — judging from the coolness of the hands, it had to be Angel. Also, Bryce’s hands were still on her shoulders, just holding her.

They were his, right?

The thought brought a shiver.

“Hey, can I take this off?” Something tugged at her shirt. “The fabric—” he cut off, tugged again.

“It’s fine,” Angel said. “She’s fine.”

“Let her answer, baby girl.”

“Mmm…” Angel murmured. Hands began stroking her thighs, hard and slow. “I like it when you call me that.”

“Hey, keep it PG, would you? This one’s still coming round.”

“Say it again.”

“Angel…” Bryce’s chest rumbled a low warning behind her.

“Fine.” The rubbing on her legs slowed even more, became lighter.

Her eyes flickered, opened to a slit. She could see Angel through her lashes. The girl’s eyes were closed, and her jaw moved in a slow, bovine-like chewing motion. She wore a robe too, but the streak of pale flesh down the center meant that was probably all she wore. It looked so soft, that skin. Flawless.

When last had her skin looked like that? Flawless. So beautiful. Life bursting from every pore. Glowing with radiance and health and the sheer zest of being alive?

Probably back in her twenties.

She let out a low laugh.

“What’s so funny, peaches?” Bryce tugged at her shirt again. “And can I have an answer on this clothing situation? Else I’m going to have to rub Angel — she doesn’t mind.”

“I don’t,” Angel said. “Do me instead.”

“Is fine,” she said, her words thick and slow. She managed, with colossal effort, to sit forward. The heat from Bryce’s body vanished in an instant.

“Lift your arms.”

She did, clumsily. Why were they so heavy? She draped them over the top of her head, digging her fingertips into the side of her head.

Her shirt came off. Hands touched her ribs, slid around to the back of her bra.

“Hey, stop that,” Bryce said.

“Don’t you know anything?” Angel snapped open her bra, and she let out a long, heavy exhale at the glorious release that brought. “Bras suck donkey balls.”

“Jesus,” Bryce murmured, running his hands down either side of her back and making her shiver violently. “It hurts?”

“Yeah it does.” Angel ran her thumbs hard over the skin where her bra straps had been pressing into her shoulders and chest. “And for her, with a pair of cahoonas like these, it’s even worse.”

“Serious?”

“As cancer.”

“Don’t say that.” Then, to her, “This is going to be cold. And, apparently, strawberryish. Ready?”

Her eyes flickered open again when a few drops of ice-cold lotion splashed on her skin. Angel was studying her with an intensity she’d never seen on the girl’s face before. It made her reel back into Bryce. He complained loudly about smelling like goddamn strawberries and how cold the shit was before pushing her forward again.

“You angry at me?” Angel asked, dipping her head a little.

The girl was still massaging her legs — she’d moved onto her calf muscles, and it was as delicious as her thighs had been — but her attention was fixed solely on her face.

“What?” Her own voice sounded so strange, so foreign in her ears. “Angry.”

“Yeah. For—” Angel shrugged her ear against her shoulder as if it was itching, “—for last night.”

Last night.

The thought triggered something primal. Something so deep it was almost undetectable. A tremor.

She squirmed, drew a breath that felt like cold silk, and grabbed Angel’s hands.

“Yes.” Then, almost on top of that, “No.”

“Which?” Angel ducked her head a little. “Yes? No?”

“No. Drew.” She nodded decisively, blinking rapidly when that did all sorts of interesting things to her perception of reality. “Mad at him.”

“Yeah,” Angel murmured. The girl laced their fingers together and slowly pulled them apart with blatant satisfaction. “Yeah, he’s a real piece of work.”

“Glad we all agree,” Bryce said. His hands touched her, sending a ripple of bliss through her body when he began working the lotion into her skin.

“Married me, you know,” Angel said quietly. “Married me and then took it back like it was nothing.”

Bryce let out a short, splutter of a laugh. “What? Jesus, you thinking of buying a house there in Lala land or what?”

“Married me and just took it away,” Angel murmured sadly. She brought Kelly’s hand to her head, laying her palm on her hair. “Would you plait it?”

“Sure, honey,” Kelly sat forward, pausing when this made Bryce’s hands slide lower down her back. She let out an involuntary moan.

Angel laughed. “You’re gonna make her cum, Bryce.”

“Probably,” the man agreed quietly. “Then again, you keep moaning like that, peaches; might be another story altogether.”

It was her turn to laugh. “Sorry. Feels so good. So, so good.”

“Does, doesn’t it?” He exhaled a warm breath onto her back. “Jesus, it does. Hey, baby girl, bring me a hit ‘fore you get your pigtails done, would you?”

“Why you wanna come down?” The girl’s voice was practically a whine.

“’Cos peaches here is making it look so damn enticing, is why. Plus, you’ve never been around my brother when you were high — he’s a buzz kill. And he ain’t gonna be busy much longer.”

“This is bullshit,” Angel muttered as her heat disappeared from the bed. “Fucking retard.”

“Hey, easy, would you? Now you’re turning into a buzz kill.”

“Here.”

Pungent smoke made her eyes open. Angel held out a joint in Bryce’s direction. He let go of one of her shoulders, keeping a hand gently resting on the crook of her neck as he took the dog end from Angel.

She lifted her hand, palm up.

Bryce laughed. “You want a blister on that pretty hand of yours?”

“Ooh, Bryce, give it.”

“Yes, please.” He handed it back to Angel. “You turn that dial of yours all the way down.”

“Fuck you,” she murmured, but the joint was already at her mouth. Her cheeks sunk in how she drew at it, and then she was leaning forward to Kelly.

Her blue eyes were wide, becoming hooded as her lips parted. She nodded once, and slowly came closer, bending at the waist.

“Angel—” Bryce began, voice low in warning.

Angel’s hand came up, cutting off whatever he was going to say. Bending over like that, her robe had fallen open and was exposing everything up to her flat belly.

Her eyes closed off the sight of that young body when Angel’s lips touched hers. Then warm air buffeted into her mouth and rushed down her throat. She inhaled deeply and had to exhale through her nose with Angel’s mouth still pressed against hers.

“Now you two are just fucking with me,” Bryce murmured grumpily somewhere behind me. “I’ve been nothing but a fucking gentleman, and then you come and do that shit in front of me like some form of cruel and unnatural punishment.”

“Suck it,” Angel said, giving him the finger as she straightened. “It’s time someone started acting like a jerk to you, you jerk.”

“Suck it?” Bryce’s hands were on her shoulders again, rubbing the living shit out of them. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Kissed both the Sugars with this mouth,” the girl said with a laugh. “Wanna know who kisses best?”

Bryce let out a low growl, his hands stilling on Kelly’s shoulders. “Shut it, Angel.”

“Aw, come on. You scared it’s not you?”

“I know it’s me,” he said. “But you’re seriously fucking up the mood.”

“Mood was fucked up the minute you walked in here.”

“Yeah?” Bryce’s hands slid down her back, holding absently onto her waist as he bent closer to Angel.

The girl crowded onto the edge of the bed, elbowing past Kelly so she could poke Bryce in the chest. “Yeah, motherfucker.” Then those sapphire eyes swung to her. “You too, Miss Prissy. This was supposed to be a romantic weekend, just me and Drew. But then you came and spoiled it.”

“Hey, none of this is—” Bryce began, but Angel cut him off with a harsh laugh.

“You know what? I am gonna marry him. Just so I get to see the look on your face every time there’s a funeral.” Angel stabbed Bryce with a finger again. “Won’t that be swell?”

“Did you do another line or something?” Bryce said, his dark eyes wounded. “’Cos that fucking mountain you’re on definitely isn’t full of coconuts and shit.”

“What?” Kelly managed, turning to frown at him. “What’s coconuts got to do with it?”

“Coconuts?” Bryce asked, his eyes flashing to her. “Fucking everything.”

“What?” Angel sat down in a rush, looking deflated. “How?”

“Coconuts,” Bryce said, lifting his hands to describe — inaccurately — a coconut. “They’re brown. Super healthy. Got water—”

“I know what a fucking coconut is!” Angel said. “What the hell’s that got to do with…” she trailed off, giving Kelly a circumspect glance. “Coconuts?”

“Tropical island?” she wagered with a shrug.

Bryce’s eyes returned to her and then dropped. “Coconuts…” he murmured.

She blushed bright and hot and crossed her arms over her chest. “Where’s my shirt?”

“Relax,” Angel said, shrugging her shoulders until her robe slid around her waist. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen either of ours before.”

And that was when her eyes began to play tricks on her. Because now, every time Angel moved, she blurred and left streaks of color in her wake.

“Crap.” Kelly put her hands over her eyes. “Crap, crap, crap.”

“What?” Angel sounded insulted as she glanced down at her own chest. “They’re pretty, but it’s not like they’re bigger than yours or anything.”

“My eyes are all screwed up,” she whispered. “What’s wrong? Is something wrong?”

Bryce laughed. “Nothing. Perfectly normal. Now, back to the coconuts—”

“No one cares about your goddamn coconuts, Bryce!”

“Not even you, baby girl?”

“What? Mos’ def’ not me. What fucking coconuts? You’re driving me nuts, seriously.”

There was lots of sudden movement next to her. Kelly tugged free her hands and lurched back. Bryce had his hands in Angel’s hair, holding her face still so he could kiss her. Angel struggled but then went limp, like he’d stolen the life from her.

“Oh,” Kelly said quietly, doing her best to extricate her legs from the tangle of Bryce’s and Angel’s without disturbing them. “Crap.”

Bryce leaned back from Angel, her face still trapped in his hands, and glanced across at her. He gave her a slow, lopsided smile.

“Know what I love about you, peaches?”

She gave her head a small shake.

“You’re such a goody-two-shoes, know that?”

Another shake. Her skin tingled furiously when the man released Angel and leaned over to her.

“Say something dirty.”

She shook her head.

“Come on, humor me.”

She shook her head again. “Why?”

“I want to hear how something filthy sounds, coming out of that pretty mouth.”

Squirming, she glanced past the man at Angel. The girl was rapt, fingers squeezing her lips closed.

“Like… what?” She blinked furiously, trying to get her eyes to stop bugging out when Bryce glanced at Angel over his shoulder.

“Something like…” he turned back to her. “Fuck me.”

She swallowed. Her lips fell to Bryce’s mouth, got stuck there. “Fuck you?”

“Fuck me.” His mouth caressing the words as light and shadow danced a mesmerizing tango over his lips.

“Fuck me,” she said in a husky voice.

“Damn,” Angel murmured somewhere behind Bryce.

He laid a hand on her thigh and slid it up her leg until his thumb was in the crease of her hips.

“Well, don’t mind if I do,” he said.