Hazed by Brittany Butler
****
Lea breezes through the door, she tosses her headphones on the bed. Her hair is stuck to her forehead and her workout attire is wet. As long as we’ve lived together I’ve never seen her workout, and I wonder if it’s a temporary thing or if I’m a terrible roommate.
“Hey, I’m going to my mom’s tonight,” she says.
“Are you staying the night?” I ask.
She stops digging through her bag and turns to me. “Why are you so fancy? And why are you asking if I’m staying away tonight?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a date,” I smirk.
“Does my brother know about this?” She laughs.
I shrug my shoulders. “It was his idea.”
“I knew it!” She exclaims as she laughs. “Tell me everything, what’s the plan?”
“He didn’t say. What does he usually do on dates?” I scrunch my nose, wondering why I asked that. Do I really want to know?
“I’m almost positive he’s never taken a girl out,” she says.
“The man whore of ETU hasn’t taken a girl out? How stupid do I look, Lea?” I laugh, giving her a pointed look.
She lowers her head, staring at me until it clicks. “Pretty stupid, he doesn’t take girls on actual dates. He doesn’t have to…”
“Oh.” I hold my hands out, silently asking her to say no more.
A knock on the door halts the questions swirling in my head. Lea tugs a sweater over her head and opens the door. Hayze walks past her; she swats his arm.
“Where are you two going?” She asks.
“The cabin,” he says. With a boyish grin, he shoves his hands in his pocket. “You ready?”
His mustang is cranked and waiting by the curb. I tell him that he’s lucky no one steals it but arrogance shines through, and he tells me no one messes with him. Thirty minutes later my sight is on the cabin for the first time. He turns the radio down and grins at me. The secluded log house sits within yards of the lake. To the side, a dock houses a ski boat. When he slides the car in park I jump out.
“Is this your place?” I twirl around the yard, taking in the forest and the secluded night sounds.
“My dad’s parents,” he corrects me. He catches my elbow, guiding me on the porch and to the front door. The wood continues inside, the dimly lit living room is open to a small kitchen and dining room.
“Hayze, it’s beautiful! I’m so happy you brought me here.”
He comes to me and wraps his arms around my middle. Smiling as he looks down at me. “I’d do anything for the look on your face right now,” he says. He lips brush mine, but he pulls away too soon. “You hungry?” He asks.
“That depends, are you cooking?”
His brow arches as he points his finger. “You’ll be sorry you said that after you take a bite.”
I laugh and follow him into the kitchen. “We will see. What are we having anyway?”
“Lasagna, my specialty,” he says.
“That’s like the easiest thing to make. What? I’m just saying.” I say. He shoots me a playful glare. I hold my hands out, feigning innocence. I look around, taking in the house from a new angle. “Do you come here a lot?” I ask.
“Yeah, not as much as I used to though, I come out here to be alone.”
“So, this is your grandparents place?” I ask.
He nods his head. He grabs a bottle of water, unscrewing the lid with an amused expression. He tosses the bottle back then throws it into the trash can and waits for me to pry more. He doesn’t offer information so I get what I can, beginning with small details.
“Are you close to them?” I ask.
“I am.”
“What about your dad?” I push a little further, remembering how upset he got the first time I asked about his dad. But this time he doesn’t seem upset; he doesn’t snap at me. He stops and seems to consider the question.
Sighing, he says, “Not as close as we used to be.”
As tension fills the room, my questions subside. He points to a bar stool. I take a seat and watch him navigate around the kitchen. As he pulls the lasagna from the oven, the smell fills the room, instantly watering my mouth. He sets the attractive dish of food on the counter and pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge. I have to admit that I’m surprised he can actually cook.
“No more questions?” He smirks.
“I have a ton, actually. Do you want to hear them?”
Chuckling, he shakes his head as he pours the wine to the rim of each cup. “No, pace yourself,” he says.
“Can I help you with anything?” I ask.
“You ask me now that I’m finished.” Laughing, he sets the wine in front of me.
“It looks good,” I say, scanning the food. “And smells good, let’s see how it tastes,” I grin.
Two plates of food and a bottle of wine later, I sit giggling on the couch. A string of profanity flows from Hayze’s mouth. He sighs with relief as the ancient entertainment center powers on. He turns on a movie and sits beside me.
“I have never witnessed an adult tantrum,” I laugh.
“Yeah, well, get used to it,” he says. His tone is playful but I know there’s truth behind his words.
“Thanks for the entertainment,” I smile. “It was worth it.”
In an instant I’m flat on my back, with him hovering over me. “Entertainment’s not over,” he says.
His lips tease my neck, brushing my skin as he runs along my jaw. My fingers dig in his back, urging him closer.
“Patience, sweet Taylor,” he whispers. His voice is dangerously low.
The nip on my ear is almost my undoing. I tug on the hem of his shirt. I pull it over his head and toss it to the floor. My fingers eagerly trace the new territory, following the inked patterns by memory. From the day I laid eyes on him, his white shirt clung to his chest, showing the dark lines. Each day was a constant reminder of what lies beneath his shirt. I roll on top, slowly kissing the lines. I tug my dress off, when it hits the floor his eyes snap open. He scans my body. His eyes are fiery with lust.
“I didn’t bring you here for this,” he says. His voice is strained. It’s as if he’s warning me, but without a lot of strength.
“I know,” I said. My voice is breathy. “But I want it.”
With his lips pressed in a hard line, he studies me. He sits, guiding me off of him. My face falls. I look at the floor to avoid him seeing my disappointment. He bends down and kisses me. It’s deep, yet soft, hinting he wants more. I feel him holding back.
His hands grip my thighs. He lifts me from the couch and my legs wrap around his waist. Still kissing me, he begins to walk, flipping on the hallway light, he walks me into a bedroom. He ungracefully runs into the door frame and trips before he lays me on the bed.
My hands glide down his bare back. They travel to the top of his jeans and stop at his zipper. He presses his hips to mine and I feel how much he wants it.
“Are you sure?” He groans.
“I thought I was the virgin,” I say.
“I feel like an asshole. This isn’t why I brought you here, babe. If you want to wait, I understand,” he says. His eyes bore into mine, full of question and restraint that dims by the second.
I place my finger over his soft lips. “I have never wanted anything more,” I say.
His lips curl into a smile before returning to mine. As he unsnaps my bra, his reluctance slips from the room. I pull his jeans down, but he stops and pulls a square package from the pocket. I cock my eyebrow at him.
He shrugs his shoulders. A cocky grin takes over his face. “Ya know, just in case.”
I pull him back to my mouth. His hands slide down my body, stopping at the top of my panties. He slides them off then does the same to his boxers. I can’t look away as he tears the foil package and slides the protection on.
His mouth comes back to mine when his finger pushes into me. I gasp in surprise. He pulls back and inspects my face.
“
He retracts his finger. My eyes find his amber irises; they watch me with intent. With a thrust of his hips he’s inside me. I clench my eyes from discomfort.
“Look at me, Taylor.” His voice is hoarse.
I pry my eyes open, fighting to keep them on him with each thrust. Slowly, the pain turns to pleasure. His movements become jerked and rigid before he collapses on top of me. He lies beside me, panting for breath.
As his breathing evens, he wipes his forehead with the sheet and sits up. He positions himself over me, kissing and nipping until he reaches my stomach. My eyes lock with his, they widen as he continues further down. I feel his warm breath hit me. I throw my head back and grip the sheets. The entertainment’s not over.