When I tell Jordan the day after my birthday that I’m heading out to hang with the guys, “Just don’t stay out past midnight, and don’t be an asshole or do anything to make me upset with you,” is all he says to me. Only I’m not planning on spending any time with the guys.

Stone’s Grandma Miriam is the only adult that’s been decent to any of us, and she sometimes likes to invite Sasha over to bake and shit. When she jumped at the chance to have Sasha over for a day, I knew we wouldn’t have to worry about anyone getting to Sasha while there. That old bird once served time for stabbing one of her ex-husbands, and she carries a pistol in her nylons. Even Stone isn’t stupid enough to piss her off over anything.

Turns out fucking my hot social worker did absolutely nothing to purge her from my thoughts. The memory of her hot body, its smooth curves and subtle skin, the sweet taste of her tongue and pussy, the light scent of her perfume—it’s all I could think about when I should’ve been sleeping. Everything about her body felt so right, so damn perfect. It was well worth the pain of rocking my broken body against hers. Fucking her wasn’t anything like being with the chicks I’ve banged for fun.

I’m sure if I spent an entire week in bed with the woman, it still wouldn’t be enough. She was somewhat timid at first, letting me take over and directing her on what to do and how to do it. The blowjob she gave me in the shower was one of the best I’ve received, even though she seemed less than confident at the start. Best of all, she was receptive to the sadistic fuck buried deep inside who likes delivering a little pain, and got off on marking her perky ass with my handprint.

I can’t shake the weird expression on her face all through dinner the night before. She claimed I was seeing things, but I know what I saw. It was regret, pure and simple. It’s something every South Sider carries around most days, regretting they didn’t stand up for something better, or regretting the shit they endure to make it through each day. Hell, half of them regret the day they were born. Myself included.

When I show up outside her apartment door, it swings open before I can knock. Among the aroma of baked chocolate, Brooke appears, grinning down at her bare feet. “Happy birthday, Liam.”

Dark hair falling in big waves over her shoulders, it appears she spent extra time getting ready this morning. I’m hard enough to break concrete with the memory of her hair over her tits, in my bed. I’ve seen her wear several skirts over the last week, but none of them blew me away like the sexy little short black and white stripped dress she’s wearing. The way it fits snug around her small waist and puffs out at the bottom, she could pass as one of my classmates.

Even though she’s broken like me, she’s the very definition of perfection.

“My birthday was yesterday.”

When our eyes collide, she gives me a funny little smirk, lips twitching with nervousness. “Work with me a little here…pretend it’s today so we can properly celebrate. You planning to spend all day out there?”

“Fuck no.”

I swoop in past her, spinning her around for another taste of her sweet lips. She shuts the door and I push her back up against it, kissing her like it’s the first time. She kisses me back with an equal hunger, her hot little hands slipping up beneath my shirt to stroke my stomach. It’s hell on my control, making my balls tingle and my dick swell painfully hard in my jeans.

Reaching beneath her dress, I move my lips up to her earlobe. “Aren’t you a pretty little present?” Nudging her panties aside, my fingers sink into her like a hot knife in butter. “And already wet. Happy fucking birthday to me.”

She mewls, grasping my arms while I slip my fingers out and back in. “Jesus…”

“Not quite, baby, but close.”

“Cocky little shit!” She slaps my shoulder playfully, then a strangled cry passes over her lips. “Just fuck me…Rook…please.”

“Love hearing you beg.” I grunt, taking her bottom lip between my teeth. “Is that cake I smell?”

She pants hard against my mouth, meeting the strokes of my hand like a lioness about to pounce. “With…ice cream.”

“Bring it into the bedroom.” I withdraw my hand and leave her standing there, breathless and wet.

By the time she joins me in her bedroom, rectangle pan in hand, I’m naked and restless. Cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink, she watches on with a slack expression as I fist my throbbing cock. As easy as it’d be to get off on her watching as I beat myself off, I have other plans.

“Give me that,” I bark. “Down on your hands and knees.”

She lifts her chin, eyeing me warily as she hands the ice-cold pan over. “What exactly are you planning to do with it?”

I love witnessing her becoming all defiant—at least for now.

“I’m going to lick the frosting off your body while I fuck you.”

“O-oh.” She almost trips over herself when starting for the edge of the bed.

I wait for her to settle on all fours before climbing up behind her. Not only are her breaths slow and uneven as I settle in, but the bed trembles with her anticipation.

Game. On.

Setting the pan on the mattress beside me, I swipe one finger through the creamy white frosting while flipping her skirt up and tugging her panties down to her knees with another. Stopping to take in the hot, wet flesh staring back at me, not bare but neatly trimmed, I battle against the urge to plunge my swollen cock inside. If I’m going to prove to her I’m a real man worthy of being taken seriously and not some horny high schooler, I sure as fuck can’t skip over foreplay.

The otherwise silent room erupts with her loud gasp when I spread the cool frosting over her slick opening. Her hips shift, giving me a preview of the alluring darkness that awaits my tongue. I bend in to lick her slowly, sucking her sex into my mouth when finished. Something incoherent dribbles from her lips as she arches her back, pushing against my lips. I lick her again, and she moans into a high-pitched squeal.

Her juices mixed with the whipped frosting is downright delicious, the pungent flavor having the effect of a hand gripping my dick. I spread more over her slit, plunging a finger deep inside and chasing after the divine tang with my tongue. Brooke’s arms buckle, sending her face down to the mattress. She sways her perky ass in sync with my greedy licks.

“Oh my god, Rook…oh…fuck!”

I press on, swirling my thumb across her pussy along with my tongue until her legs shiver uncontrollably and her knees begin to give out. I do my best to hold her up as she comes with a muffled scream against the sheets, twitching and gifting my mouth with more of her tart flavor.

While she’s humming like she’s in a dream-state, and wriggling against the bed, I kiss a path down one of her legs, dusting my fingers along the other. Then, flipping her over to her back, I kneel over her and grab the neck of her dress with both hands, tearing it down the center with one firm tug. She squeaks, big eyes wide as if suddenly realizing my strength. “I just bought this!”

“I’ll steal you a new one.” Eyes feasting on the pink lacy bra holding her tits in place, I lick my lips. They’re a size bigger than I would’ve expected before getting her naked for the first time the day before—a generous amount for my hands. Like I said, perfection.

Her hands fly over the cups. “Wait! I just bought this too, and it wasn’t cheap!” Pushing against the mattress with her feet, she lifts her chest and reaches around to release the hook in back.

Once she pulls the material down and two pebbled disks appear before my eyes, I growl like a savage beast. Her breasts appear heavier than they feel, full on the bottom and not quite equally symmetrical as I had remembered. I take one in each hand to test their weight, massaging them and rubbing the hard nipples with my thumbs.

Brooke moans in a throaty sound, reaching for my dick. “I think it’s your turn to get off.”

I slap her hand away. “My birthday, my rules.”

“Should’ve bought your bossy ass a crown,” she mutters.

In retaliation for her smart remark, I pinch her nipples as hard as I can. She bucks her hips straight up to the ceiling, gasping loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Doesn’t seem to matter how I touch her…it’s like her body’s on fire. Makes me wonder how long it’s been since she last slept with a man.

“Have anything more to say?” I raise my eyebrows, chuckling when she presses her lips together. “That’s what I thought.”

Digging my fingers into the cake pan, they come out with a gooey mix of cake and caramel beneath vanilla ice cream and the frosting. Brooke’s eyes follow my hand as it deposits the cold mess right between her breasts, and she lets out a high squeal.

“Shit! That’s cold!”

I shoot her a warning glare. “Keep it down or I’m gonna stuff your wet panties inside that smart mouth.”

Lips pulled into her mouth, she moans and squirms as I spread the sticky mess over her chest, taking extra care in smearing the ice cream around her hard nipples. They perk into tighter little nubs right before my eyes.

Fucking perfection, I think to myself, dragging a lump of ice cream with my finger down past her bellybutton and pressing it into her warm center. Before the ice cream drips on the sheets, I catch it with my tongue, following the line of desert back up her wriggling body back to the spot between her tits. Brooke’s fingers thread through my hair, yanking hard when I take a cold nipple in my mouth. I drag my face over to suck on the other nipple, taking a mouthful of cake in the process before lapping her soft skin clean. By now my face is as sticky of a mess as her body, but part of the fun will be washing it off later. Together.

Peering up to meet her gaze, I lick my lips. “Mmmmm…delicious.”

Her eyes shine when she throws me a crooked smile. “Me or the cake?”

“Definitely the cake.”

She reaches down between her cake-covered tits, swiping a finger-full and popping it into her mouth. “Mmmmm…you’re right. Maybe you should leave me alone with it.”

I pounce on her, circling my swollen tip around her sticky center. “I mean if that’s what you really want, it can be arranged.”

Her eyes darken right before she throws her arms around my neck, bringing me down to meet her insatiable mouth with pain clenching my chest. Our limbs tangle as we move together, becoming a slippery mess. While I wouldn’t exactly classify her as any kind of expert when it comes to sex, she’s a master of kissing. I swear I’m about to come the way her caramel and chocolate flavored tongue behind eager lips work me over.

I continue to torture her with my cock, pressing into her pussy lips without pushing all the way in. When her fingers wrap around my shaft, attempting to guide it inside, I pull back.

She throws her arms over her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “Enough foreplay, Rook. I figured you came here to fuck me.”

“You think I’d pass up another chance to be inside that gorgeous pussy?”

“Then do it,” she pants, blindly swatting at her nightstand. “There’s a condom over there somewhere.”

With a deep chuckle, I swipe the foil package from inside the nightstand drawer and rip it open with my teeth. She pulls her arm down, hooded eyes following my fingers rolling it on like she’s fantasizing about doing it herself. God knows if I let her do it, I’d come in an instant.

When finished, I set my hands on my hips and grin down at her, enjoying the fact that I’m driving her insane with anticipation.

She throws her hands up. “What are you waiting for now?”

I bend in for another taste of her cake-flavored lips. “I want to hear you beg.”

“Please?” She says the word nicely, like she’s asking for the fucking salt and pepper.

“That all you got?” I press the very end of my cock through her opening and laugh. “Come on, baby. You can do better.”

With a groan, her eyes roll back into her head and her fingers dig into my back. “Rook…please.”

I push in a little more, dragging my lips over hers. “Please what?”

“Give me every inch of that beautiful cock before I lose my shit!”

“Wouldn’t want that to happen,” I whisper with a grin.

Capturing her mouth, I shove all the way inside, warranting the loudest cry from her yet. I force myself in and out, biting against the red-hot pain in my ribs. The sound of our cake and ice cream covered bodies slapping together almost drowns out the violent bangs of her headboard against the drywall. Our mouths break apart when she reaches behind her, stopping her head from hitting the wood.

An orgasm hits me as fierce as if a vice was clamped over my balls, almost cancelling out the excruciating pain resulting from my old man’s fists. I roar and twitch inside her, witnessing her beautifully dirty face light with pleasure as I rub her clit, making her finish seconds behind. I take her mouth as she comes, lowering down to her side and taking her in my arms.

It’s the first birthday I didn’t wish I’d never been born.

* * *

Hours after we’ve showered and gone another round, we lay tangled together in her sheets. Brooke props her head on her hand, gazing into my eyes while her fingertips lazily trace my abs. “If I ask you something, will you promise not to get mad?”

Thinking it sounds like a loaded question, I merely shrug.

“Why won’t you even consider applying for college grants? The counselor at your school told me you’re the smartest kid she’s seen come through in her twelve years working there. You have a four point six GPA, and scored a near perfect on the ACT. Do you get how rare that is? You could probably get a full ride to the U, or—”

“It’s not happening, alright?” With a grunt, I wish I could go outside for a smoke. Anything to avoid this conversation again. “That shit’s not for me.”

“I wish you’d at least consider it. For me. I don’t want that brilliant mind of yours to go to waste.” When I keep my lips drawn in a straight line, her eyebrows draw down. “If you’re not going to college, then what are you planning to do after graduation?”

“Ryker has been playing with the idea of opening a mechanic shop. I’ll probably end up working for him.” If I haven’t strangled him by then, anyway.

Eyes softening, she drags her teeth over her bottom lip. “What if someone told you that you’re not destined to live on the South Side forever to become a hardened felon like ninety percent of the population? What would you do then?”

That’s easy. It’s something I’ve dreamed of doing for years. “Probably join a legit rock band…tour around the world. Make the road my home. Can’t imagine anything better than performing in packed stadiums every damn day. Me and the guys always talked about doing it after we realized we don’t totally suck. Trask was convinced by our junior year that we’d get a record deal one day. He thinks we could be the next generation of Foo Fighters.”

“So why don’t you do it?”

“Because the rest of the guys aren’t interested anymore. Ryker’s too into this idea of becoming his own boss, Stone wants to go into the military, Trask needs to stick around for his sister. And I’m too mediocre of a bassist to try out for another band.”

“I doubt that. You couldn’t possibly be mediocre at anything.” Her lips bend with a devilish smile. “If you love it that much, I want to hear you play.”

“Yeah? What about you?”

Her smile straightens. “I can’t play any instrument, or sing.”

Laughing, I pull her hand into mine and thread our fingers together. “I meant what would you do if you weren’t stuck here? What did you dream of becoming when you grew up?”

Her eyes snap down to our hands. “I guess I don’t really know. I hardly remember what I wanted out of life as a kid, except maybe to be a princess like every other little girl. I just remember wanting to run far away. While I was in foster care, I dreamed that I’d find a way out of there so I could somehow help other kids like me.”

Warmth fills my chest. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be so selfless, and center all your goals around others. The woman has a 14 karat heart of gold, and she’s braver than anyone I know. “And here you are, living out that dream.”

When her eyes meet mine, they’re visibly pained. “What we’re doing is wrong, Liam.”

A sting of anger makes it hard to keep my voice even. “Why? Because you’re older? Or because I’m still in school? That shit doesn’t matter. At least not to me.” When she opens her mouth, I drop her hand to press my finger against her lips, shaking my head. “No. You wanna know the definition of wrong? When I was a kid, my dad was stationed in El Paso. The summer I was eleven, he was sent to Iraq for a year. At first my mom was actually around, and not gambling away every last cent she earned from scrubbing cum stains off hotel sheets. Then she started hiring babysitters to watch after me so she could stay out all night long, probably screwing the guy she eventually left us for. At first they were other Army brats that ignored me most of the time. Then she paid a twenty-something chick from work, and that’s when shit started going down.”

Brooke’s face pales. “Did she—”

“Every chance she could get. But Stacey never forced herself on me. She seduced me, made me feel good. It was like having every pubescent fantasy come true. I was thirteen the first time…it went on for months.”

“Oh my god, Liam,” she whispers, setting her hand on my face. Tears spill down her face as she slowly shakes her head. “It’s not considered seduction when you’re that young.”

I look away. Part of me hates seeing her cry, although it throws me for a loop.

“Don’t matter,” I say. “I liked it. I would’ve kept it going if my mom hadn’t walked in on us. She threatened to have Stacey arrested. It was probably the only real decent thing my mom ever did for me since I was a baby. Then my old man blew his knee out and came back two months early. She told him what happened right before she told him she was leaving us for some douche she met at the casino. I haven’t seen her since. My old man blamed me for what happened with Stacey, and moved us back here to where he grew up.”

“What happened wasn’t your fault. You were a victim.”

“I fuckin’ know that. Just like I know this thing with you is different. You aren’t taking advantage of me the way she did. I’m old enough to know right from wrong, and I know what I want. I want this. I want you.” I roll onto my side, threading my fingers through her hair as intensity oozes from my every last pore. “You’re the only one outside of my crew who seems to give a shit whether I live or die. And you look at me like I’m a man. You make me feel like a man. Aside from whatever code you’re breaking by being with me, the way you make me feel is worth it.”

Before she can find a way to negate everything I said, I pull her into my arms and kiss her.

* * *

Over the next week, Brooke arranges for Sasha to complete her schoolwork from home. Whatever kind of magic she pulled with the middle school, I’m grateful as fuck. At least Sasha has some kind of stability while her brother’s fate remains up in the air until his trial.

I spend as much time with Brooke as we can manage. Thought we’d have all the time in the world with Jordan’s new slack rules. But between school, her job, meeting with my new counselor, and moving the band’s equipment to Jordan’s garage for jam sessions with Sasha and the guys, it’s nothing close to enough.

The first time Brooke watches us as we work through a new song Ryker wrote, I catch her bobbing her head to the beat, eyes closed. Gets me all worked up seeing her appreciating music that way, like it seeps into her heart and penetrates her soul like it does to me every time my fingers touch the strings. I’ve been introducing her to bands that have a sound similar to ours, and she claims to love every one. She’s always telling me not to give up on my dream to tour the world, and sometimes I even lie to myself, saying it could happen.

We’re limited to stolen kisses when we’re not helping Sasha with school, a quickie in my room at Jordan’s while she’s over for dinner one night, and a blowjob in a supply closet the time I meet with my new hard-ass social worker.

Although I’m no longer on her caseload, Brooke’s understandably still leery of the consequences. Sneaking around only heats things up. Once I send Sasha off to be with Grandma Miriam again the next weekend, the marathon of sex that follows is the best I’ve ever had.

Somewhere between the string of endless orgasms, Brooke convinces me to apply to a few colleges and throw my hat in the ring for a dozen different scholarships. While I still believe the notion of someone like me going to college to be ridiculous, I wonder if she listed a couple local universities because she’s hopeful I’ll stick around. Maybe I’m not the only one who doesn’t want this thing with us to end. Hell if I know where it could be headed, but lately I’ve aspired to become something more, solely for her.

The child psychologist is easily manipulated into thinking I’m a well-adjusted citizen who’s suffered extensive abuse. She writes a glowing report for the children’s advocate to present to the court along with her own favorable observations. After only a few hours with each of the women, they make a recommendation that I continue counseling until I’m nineteen. Best of all, they’re in agreement that any formal charges against me related to the shooting should be dropped.

Though my old man remains in a coma, the following Monday he’s formally charged with felony domestic assault despite my strong objections. I just want to cut all ties with the asshole so he’s out of my life forever.

While I haven’t seen anything of King Marty since Trask’s last hearing, I check in with Candy a few times to see what she’s seen or heard, which amounts to jack-shit aside from a few more trust-fund kids hanging around the area than usual. Brooke thinks it's drug-related. I remain skeptical, thinking there must be something bigger involved. Why else would King Marty be so determined to send Trask away?

Another week passes. More sneaking around leads to another scorching weekend while Sasha’s away.

As Brooke comes out of the shower following the latest fuck-fest involving edible massage oil, she catches me throwing my shirt on while I’m finishing up a call with Candy. It’s a weak lead, but it’s the best I’ve gotten since Trask was arrested.

I toss my phone on the bed at the same time Brooke lets her towel fall to the carpet. Watching a bead of water trailing down her body, rolling off a hard nipple and landing in her neatly trimmed pussy, I lick my lips. I hate myself for leaving that gorgeous fuckin’ body earlier than planned.

Her eyebrows lift. “Why are you dressed?”

“I’m heading down to the South Side.”

Disappointment floods her beautiful face as her shoulders drop. “Already? I thought Sasha wasn’t coming back until tonight.”

“That’s still the plan. I’m going to check on a tip that something’s going down in the old neighborhood. A group of preppy students from the U are handing out fliers of three friends that went missing in the past couple of weeks. Whatever’s going down, King Marty’s behind it.”

“Maybe their friends OD’d. The South Side likes to discard junkies without getting the cops involved.”

“Maybe, but I intend to find these students and see what they know.” I move over to take her wet body in my arms, and press a kiss against her damp lips. “If I’m not back by nine, I’ll have Stone deliver Sasha here. You girls aren’t running around the South Side in the dark without me.”

Her short, unpolished fingernails dig into my arms. “Don’t go.” My heart dips when she throws me the kind of wide-eyed look, pleading I doubt I’d ever be able to say no to. “I’m sure they’ve filed missing person reports if their friends are handing out fliers.”

“Babe, me and Stone are all Trask has. Ryker’s head is so far up his ass that he can’t be counted on to see what’s really going on. I have to do whatever I can to help Trask out of this mess.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“That's not a good—”

She silences me with a hot and dirty kiss. I grab a handful of wet hair and drag her closer, then pull away with a grunt. “Your ass is sexy as hell, but it’s not going to distract me. You’re not going. It’s too dangerous. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

“You can give me a thousand reasons why it’s a bad idea, but I once thought getting involved with you was a bad idea too. And look at us now.” With a wicked grin, she stretches her neck to lick the corner of my mouth. “I’m. Going.”

And I’m a fucking goner. What the hell am I going to do with this stubborn woman?