SWNOVELS The Golden Boys: Chapter 31
Her silhouette darkens the doorway and I’m actually shocked she came. If she were any other girl, I could’ve staked my life on her accepting that invitation, but not Southside.
This girl … I can’t pin her down.
Smiling, I call out to her when she hesitates. “Get your ass over here.”
She doesn’t move, but folds both arms across her chest instead. “Say please,” she teases, but I’ve had about all I can stand and take large strides forward, drawing her right into a kiss.
She leans to the side when I push my hand along the smooth skin of her neck. The throb of her pulse hammering against my fingertips causes mine to race, too.
What is it about her? I’ve never met anyone who makes me break my own rules, makes me forget all the things I should hate about her. Even if only temporarily.
I’m pulled from thought when her soft hands push up my back, then latch onto my shoulder blades. I hate clingy chicks, but for some reason, this isn’t so bad. Not even with her holding me so tight that I can feel she needs someone. I guess, for tonight, I’m that someone.
There’s this frustrating sense of being too close and not being close enough, but I know which of those conflicting sentiments is controlling me, taking over my soul more with every second.
A sharp breath surges into her nostrils when I lift her onto a raised, cement slab. I’ll tell her later it’s some dead bastard’s tomb, but for now, I settle between the softness of her thighs and drag the straps of her dress and bra down her arm. Goosebumps texture her skin where I kiss a trail down her neck to her shoulder. I want her so bad I can fucking taste it. No way she doesn’t feel that.
I draw her to the edge by her waist and she snatches off the headpiece to my costume. Throwing it aside, her fingers push through my hair, gripping it tight.
Tugging the dress a little lower, I kiss the soft flesh of her tits until the material falls away and exposes more. First, my lips softly graze over her nipple, but when I tease it with my tongue, the bud of flesh tightens and I draw it into my mouth.
“Shit, West.”
Her breathy plea makes it even harder not to rush things forward. More so when that tight body of hers arches toward mine. I make myself release her, placing both hands on the edge of the slab instead. It’s the only way I won’t tear her apart in the next few seconds.
Only, the instant I regain control, she snatches it right from my grasp again. All it takes is her removing her hand from my back, to then wedge it between our bodies. We’re both damn-near vibrating with the most intense energy I’ve ever felt.
I sense where she’s going with this, and when my waistband is pulled away from where it rides low at the base of my stomach, an alarm sounds off inside my head. It’s the reason I decide now’s a good time to warn her who she’s dealing with.
“Easy, Southside,” I groan, lifting my head to speak the words against her neck. “You’re dangerously close to crossing the point of no return.”
She ignores the first warning and rests her full lips against my collarbone before sucking there, driving me absolutely insane.
“If you aren’t fucking sure,” I speak up again, “Stop while you still—’
She shuts me the hell up by pushing her soft hand down the front of my boxers, unapologetically gripping my cock like she owns the damn thing. My chest moves against hers as I breathe deep. Then, my eyes fall shut.
This damn girl has me right where she wants me.
At her mercy.
Her hand works up and down my length and all the back and forth between us has built up to this. I’m tired of tiptoeing around what we’re both really after, so I make up my mind to propel us to the next level. I reach beneath her skirt to grab her hip, and with one rough motion the seam of her panties starts to rip. Only, I don’t get very far, because out of nowhere, we’re engulfed in bright light.
Southside gasps and is quick to cover herself, pushing her straps back in place in record time. I, on the other hand, am not thinking about any of that shit. All I want to know is who the fuck just interrupted?
“Thought you’d like to know it’s time for the Monster Mix.”
I recognize Parker’s voice. Even if it isn’t all chipper like usual.
She doesn’t leave right away, instead keeping that light focused on me and Southside while we fix ourselves. If history is any indication, Parker’s going to cry herself to sleep about what she just walked in on, and I can expect a phone call about 3 a.m., when she’ll feel the need to tell me what a good catch she is and how I’ll miss her long before she’ll miss me.
Blah fucking blah …
All bullshit.
Southside hops down from the tomb, brushing dust off the back of her costume, and I can’t wrap my head around her leaving.
“We aren’t finished here. What’re you doing?”
She glances down to where I’ve just taken her wrist, then she passes a look toward Parker.
Before she even answers, I realize she’s about to use that as an excuse to bail. “Kind of feels like we’re done,” she reasons.
I don’t get another chance to plead my case, because she rushes off after that. I’m right behind her, grabbing my headpiece before pushing past Parker. She doesn’t miss the death-stare I shoot her. It’s the next best thing to actually being able to punch her, which I would’ve done without question if she were a dude.
Southside is moving slowly, and I can’t help but to wonder if it’s because she’s hoping I’ll catch up. Parker’s lingering somewhere behind us, probably sulking, but I find it all too easy to forget about her these days.
An uncertain glance flashes up at me before Southside speaks. “What’s the … Monster Mix, or whatever?” she asks.
We’re walking in step now and it feels a lot like I want to touch her, hold her hand or some weak shit like that.
I kill the urge because I’m not that guy. Never have been. Might castrate myself if I ever become that guy.
“… Uh, it’s sort of a Monster Bash tradition,” I finally answer. “It’s just a drink concoction Marcus makes up. He puts it in this big, gaudy chalice and we all take a sip, drinking to the occasion.”
And we’re probably drinking to cold sores and mono, too, which is why my brothers and I have a standing rule where we drink first.
She smooths her costume again and this is where it gets weird. All because we somehow fell into the first normal conversation we’ve ever held with one another. It’s jarring because that’s not us. We don’t do coffee dates or walks in the park with our twin puppies. We’re sharp points, rough edges, and nasty insults.
And, apparently, we’re a little bit of her touching my dick and me kissing her tits, too, but … I guess that fits.
Sort of.
Glancing her way, she looks at least as uncomfortable as I do, but it breaks up some of the tension when Parker shoves her way between us, charging toward the crowd.
“Move it, assholes,” she hisses.
I hold in a laugh, because I know I shouldn’t find humor in Parker’s frustration, and I guess I’ve gotten used to hiding what a sick fuck I am. But when I peer over at Southside again, she doesn’t even bother trying to pretend. She’s smiling big, maybe because she knows getting caught with me has just destroyed Parker on the inside.
Southside’s a little crazy, and I might be a little obsessed with that side of her.
The distance between us has grown as we draw closer to the others. I slow down and she speeds up, until it isn’t even obvious we came from the same place. Only we know the truth.
I unashamedly scan every face for hers when she disappears among the others, but I find her quickly. She’s laughing and chatting it up with Rodriguez and a small group near the beer pong table.
Watching her, I brush my thumb over my bottom lip and I’m aware of the missed opportunity. Aware I’m getting deeper in this by the second.
Pull back, Golden. You know who she really is.
“Where’d you disappear to?” Sterling asks, slamming his hand against my back.
“Probably putting Parker’s mouth to good use,” Dane adds. “Anything to shut her up for a few minutes.”
Meanwhile, barely listening to my brothers’ speak, my eyes are glued to Southside. She, on the other hand, is doing everything in her power to avoid looking this way.
“Nah, not this time,” I answer. “Found something … a little more interesting to keep me busy.”
“She got a name?”
Dane laughs at Sterling’s question before asking one of his own. “Better yet, do you remember her name?”
All I give them is a vague smile.
The music quiets and Marcus climbs up on a table, already drunk off his ass, but that’s not unusual when he parties. He’s got a crooked crown resting on his fro and he pushes his kingly robe behind him in dramatic fashion.
“Here ye, here ye,” he says into his scepter, using it like a microphone. Everyone laughs. “It is a time-honored tradition that all guests drink from the Chalice of Doom every Halloween. Should someone fail to complete the tradition, the curse of our most notable Cypress Pointe founding father—Sir Vladimir Bledsoe—will be upon thee,” he adds. “And nobody wants that because, as history tells us, the old man’s insides leaked out through his arse, on a dreadful night from thenceforth known as the darkest, shittiest night in Cypress Pointe.”
Cheers erupt as he spouts this made up BS, and all I can do is laugh. Details of his story change a little every year. But what’s most important is that, aside from Bledsoe’s name, nothing else is true.
“Bar wench, hand forth my chalice,” he barks out, and Parker reluctantly approaches the center with said chalice in hand.
He accepts it and leans in when Parker pulls him close, whispering something so quickly I don’t know if anyone else catches it. She walks away and Marcus smiles, staring at the skimpy piece of fabric Parker is trying to pass off as a costume.
“Shall we begin?” Marcus announces, prompting Sterling to shove Dane and I closer. You know, to avoid the whole ‘mouth herpes’ situation.
We make our way to the front quickly. Helps a little that people know not to try us and back off when they see we’re coming through.
“This year, I’d like to bring a little order to our tradition,” Marcus announces. “We have a few new faces here, and being the thoughtful host that I am, what do you say we invite them to partake first?”
My steps halt and I scan the crowd again. There Southside is, trying to blend into the crowd in that short, stark-white dress and long black wig. She’s the hottest thing out here, which means no one’s going to mistake her for one of our regulars.
“No, really. It’s okay,” she insists when Marcus goes into the crowd to get her himself.
Rodriguez, half drunk and tripping over her own feet, is egging the whole thing on. Southside politely declines several more times before the chanting starts.
Now, she’s not protesting so much, and as she looks around, I see her getting ready to cave.
Peer pressure’s a bitch any day of the week, but it’s inescapable when you’ve got a couple hundred kids all calling you out at once.
Everyone goes silent when Marcus raises his hand to let Southside speak. She looks like a deer caught in headlights. Turning to Rodriguez, she gets zero support.
“…Fine, I guess,” she concedes.
More cheering and howling. Then, bottoms up.
Her face scrunches up and she shakes her head wildly, trying to get the taste out of her mouth. Sorry to say it, but it’ll be sometime tomorrow when she’s finally free from it.
“Sip and pass,” Marcus instructs, handing the cup over to Dane next.
He reacts pretty much the same as Southside before I take a swig and give it to Sterling.
The stuff’s always awful, but this year … something tastes even more off than usual. I watch as others go in on it, but no one else seems to notice, so I figure it must just be me.
A second later, the music kicks up again and the chalice is already making its second round. Marcus is keeping an eye out for when it’ll need another refill, which won’t be long.
Joss bobs over, perfectly sober tonight. From what Dane told us, she got in pretty big trouble after Homecoming. My brother, the hero, was fully prepared to take the heat—despite having nothing to do with how much she drank that night—but Joss wouldn’t hear of it. Possibly because we all know how much her dad hates him already.
Which isn’t an overstatement at all. Judge Francois would skin my brother alive if given the chance. In his eyes, Dane’s nothing but a self-absorbed pretty boy with nothing going for him, and I’m guessing he sees how he stares at his daughter. Still, the judge is only half right.
Dane would definitely kiss his own ass if he could, but the kid’s going places.
“I feel like dancing,” Joss announces.
Recalling the stunt Dane pulled at Homecoming, it’s the perfect opportunity to get him back. So, I take Joss’s hand before he has the chance.
“Know what? Me, too,” I announce, cock-blocking Dane about as thoroughly as Parker did to me a little while ago.
Joss doesn’t think twice about getting out there with me, and I hope Dane feels the burn. The same burn I felt in the center of my chest when he thought it was a good idea to grind all over Southside’s ass. Granted, I’d never touch Joss like that, but he could still sit this one out, wishing it was him instead of me.
Not so funny now is it, dickhead?
Joss is vibing out, getting into the song and I’m only halfway there, because I’m on the hunt again. Like always. Hoping to catch a glimpse of the one girl I should never want as badly as I do.
I spot her and it seems she’s already feeling the effects of Marcus’s Monster Mix. She lowers into a seat and I recall my first taste of that shit. It hit me pretty much the same way.
“Uh-oh,” Joss says, nodding to my left where Parker’s storming toward me. “That’s my cue to move it along. I don’t do crazy. Later.”
I wish I could make a run for it, too, but Parker’s like a heat-seeking missile when it comes to me. There’s no place to hide.
Not even in a mausoleum, apparently.
“We need to talk,” she demands, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. I hadn’t gotten a good look before now, but that little number she’s wearing is thinner than I realized.
I only follow her to the tree line so she doesn’t make a scene.
“What?” I ask flatly, already wanting more space between us.
She flashes an incredulous look my way. “Are you kidding me, West? What the hell was that I walked in on? One minute you’re giving me and the girls carte blanche to terrorize this bitch, then I catch you with your dick in her hand? I mean, I know you’ll screw anything that moves, but she is way, way beneath you,” she insists. “You have to know that.”
My brow twitches with curiosity.
“Wait … you don’t realize that … you’re beneath me?”
The question has her mouth gaping open for a moment, but in true Parker Holiday fashion, she rebounds quickly.
“Don’t be an ass West.” She scolds me, then, which only encourages me to be even more of a dick.
“Ah, I see what happened. You’re confused because I fucked you,” I say with a grin. “Guess this mistake is right up there with you thinking that opening your legs for me will eventually lead to me feeling something for you.” As my smirk turns into laughter, I feel an adrenaline rush coming on. “You really are a fucking idiot, aren’t you?”
Even with what little light there is, I see her face turning redder by the second.
“You are such a dick,” she scoffs.
I shrug. “I’m a dick and you give terrible head,” I shoot back. “Honestly, you should consider taking pointers from some of your friends. Especially Ariana. I taught her well. Girl listened to every pointer I’ve ever given her.”
I see tears and my heart beats faster.
Cry for me, bitch. I love that shit.
She’s wounded and can’t hide it. My words cut her deep and there’s nothing I want to take back. Not a single thing.
Shaking her head, Parker backs off and relief sweeps over me. For too long, I’ve let her cling to me because I enjoyed the added benefits. Problem is, now, I’ve lost every bit of interest I ever had in the girl.
And with this one conversation, she knows.
Her thin arms cross tightly over her chest and I see more tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. She walked in on me about to go balls-deep inside another girl, and it took this, me spelling out that I don’t want her, for the message to get through.
Just as quickly as the emotion flashes in her eyes, it’s gone again, and she nods.
“If that’s the way you want this to end, fine. I’m good with that,” she lies. I could call her out on it, but don’t welcome the extra conversation that would result.
“It’s for the best,” I add, reciting bull I’ve heard in the movies. Maybe it’ll help her get over it.
She’s starting to walk away, but not without looking me in the eyes again.
“Before you sever ties, ask yourself if your secrets are really as secret as you think,” she warns.
With how confidently she just spoke, it makes me wonder if she knows, but that’s impossible. Still, the reminder that there’s info out there that could ruin me makes my stomach clench in a knot.
“Cut me off and I won’t protect you, West. And, who knows?” she adds with a grin. “I might just be the one who eventually sets your whole world on fire.”
She’s grasping at straws. Has to be. I’ve been more than careful and those who know would never expose me. She tried, but that cryptic shit falls short of working.
“It’s over, Parker. You should go before you make yourself look even more pathetic,” is my parting advice.
“If you say so,” she replies with a smile.
As much as I hate to even consider that she might have found me out, I’ll keep an eye on her. According to my grandfather, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
@QweenPandora: It seems PrincessParker’s girls were called in to console her. Rumor is, the cemetery was the perfect place for her dealings with KingMidas to finally be laid to rest. My guess is that things are really starting to heat up with NewGirl, which means this is likely the end of PrincessParker’s reign. It was fun while it lasted, I guess. Well, lovelies, it seems The Beatles aren’t the only thing Hurricane Yoko blew apart.
Later, Peeps!
—P