Sins of September (6 page)

“Scout, go to your room for a few minutes. I need to talk to your sister.”

I’m stunned and Scout is pissed, not understanding why she’s been banished from the room. Her body language says it all.

“I’m not sure what you’re wearing is appropriate,” Jesse says, his eyes lingering a bit longer than usual on my breasts. “I mean, you need to understand what guys think when they see a girl—a
woman,
” he corrects quickly, “Dressed so . . .
provocatively.
I’m only saying this because I don’t want you having to spend your evening fighting off his wandering paws.”

I smirk quietly. “I dress like this back home,” I reply innocently. “I mean Todd never complained.”

“I’m only trying to offer advice. I’d hate for you to be lured into something you’re not ready for, is all.”

He’s clearly not comfortable with my outfit. Hah!

“Well, don’t worry. I’ve had to slap hands before. I can handle it.”

He’s staring a blazing hole through me now. I mean it’s a burning gaze.

“I want you home by eleven,” Jesse says.

My eyes widen and I immediately form a pout with my lips. “Eleven? I’m almost eighteen for heaven’s sake! Besides, it’s eight ‘clock right now, and he hasn’t even picked me up yet. The festival lasts until midnight.” I put just a whisper of a whine into my voice for effect.

“Okay,” he relents hesitantly, “midnight then, but not one minute later, hear?”

“I guess,” I mutter, still not happy with such an early curfew.

“And put your damn seatbelt on. That boy drives like a maniac.”

“Yeah, okay,” I mumble, secretly loving it that he’s not comfortable with this. I move towards the front door when I hear the sound of Austin’s car horn out front.”

“You mean he’s not even coming to the door to get you?”

“God, you sound like
Grandpa
now,” I mumble, grabbing my purse and heading out the door. “Laters.”

Austin lets out a low cat whistle as I climb into the passenger seat of his car. He has some Cold Play rockin’ and I give him a flirty smile.

“You like?”

“Oh, I
absolutely
like,” he murmurs. “I’m surprised your father let you out of the house, that’s all.” He’s making no pretense of eyeing my cleavage, my breasts are all but overflowing the built in cups. I’m kinda proud of my girls. A 34C—nearly “D” as a matter of fact, and they’ve brought me a good share of attention over the past couple of years as I’ve blossomed. Todd has been their number one fan up to this point, but tonight, I’m hoping to add another admirer of them to my list.

“Stepfather,” I correct him, “And he did his best to give me an eleven p.m. curfew.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah—but it’s all good. I negotiated a bit and had it extended to midnight.”

He glances over to me and his eyes are now focused on my bare thighs. “But the carnival isn’t over until midnight with the fireworks display, and then it’s a thirty minute drive back here. Seems like he’s a little overly-protective being that you’re seventeen and all.”

I bite my lower lip in contemplation and then give him a slight frown. “Well then, maybe we should adjust our plans for tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t
have
to go out of town for fireworks, do we? I’m thinking we can make some of our own.”

I flash him a sexy smile. He needs to think that I’ve had my share of experience, which of course, I haven’t. But that’s what he’s for, after all. I’m sure he’s not even close to being a virgin with his looks and his cock-sure demeanor.

Pardon the pun.

“Seriously?”

“I don’t kid about that sort of thing.”

“Anything you say, baby,” he says, his voice huskier now. He puts his right hand on my bare thigh, gently massaging it. “I know a great place not too far from here.”

He turns at the next light and heads his car out onto the two-lane highway that morphs into the rural area outside of town. Several miles down the road near the ramps to access I-40, there’s a sprinkling of restaurants and hotels at our disposal.

“Pick one,” Austin says, “Ladies choice.”

Since Casey is paying—let’s see if we can get her money’s worth.

“Hmm, let’s see. I’m kinda partial to the Marriott,” I reply, picking out the most expensive one on the horizon. He’ll have no issue with the expense since he’s
not
paying for it! And I’m sure my
virginity
is the cherry on top!

“Marriott it is, doll,” he replies with a sexy wink as he pulls his car into the parking lot and up to the lobby entrance. “Be right back, baby.”

No more than five minutes later Austin returns, key card in hand. “We’re in Suite 113,” he says, starting the car and pulling it over into a parking space. “I think that just may be my new lucky number.”

“I think you may just be right,” I reply, my hand now rubbing his khaki-covered thigh intimately. “Do they have room service?” I ask coyly, getting bolder with my hand.

“Sure they do. You hungry?”

I shake my head. “No, I was thinking maybe some wine or champagne?”

“Absolutely. Champagne and strawberries for my lady, how does that sound?”

“Very romantic and very sexy.”

“You’ve got it.”

We’ve downed nearly one of the two bottles of champagne, and snacked on strawberries before Austin gets down to business. I’m starting to wonder if he’s as experienced as he tries to come off. He certainly needs his share of liquid courage.

There’s nothing smooth or sensual about his approach. He simply instructs me to get naked after we’ve been making out on the bed for the last twenty minutes or more.

I do as he instructs, and watch as he peels off his tee shirt and Bermuda shorts. He wears tidy-whitey underwear, and his pecker is standing at attention once relieved of those.

Now I’ve never
seen
Todd’s dick, but I’ve felt it before, and God knows, we’ve done our share of dry humping, so I have
some
point of reference as to its size and girth.

Poor Austin here isn’t measuring up.

At all.

“Fuck, I left my condoms in the car,” he mutters.

“No worries,” I say, grabbing my purse on the nightstand and tossing him one. “I came prepared.”

“And so you did you little minx,” he replies, ripping open the foil, and rolling the latex down the length of his short, slender erection.

This is gonna be a piece of cake. I’m thinking he might need to gore me with that needle-dick of his a few rounds before he totally obliterates my cherry.

“Spread those long legs,” he orders, on his knees, inching towards me with his weapon in hand. “Is this your first time? Not trying to be nosey, but I need to know how gentle I’ll have to be with you is all.”

I nod. “Yes it is, Austin.”

“Okay - I’ll be as gentle as possible,” he murmurs, dipping down lower.

I can feel the tip of his penis poking around my slit and for some odd reason, I feel a sudden urge to burst out laughing at how totally ridiculous this must look to the ceiling and walls of this hotel room. God knows, they’ve had to have seen better.

“That’s a girl,” he croons, pushing the head in just a bit deeper. So far, all systems are good. His fingers are now at least massaging my clit, getting me lubed up a little bit. “Ah, I see you’re already wet and willing,” he teases. “Hopefully you’ll feel less pain this way.”

Just fuck me, dick-wad.

“Ugh,” he moans, thrusting his joystick in a little further, and I do feel a stab of pain as he hits my stubborn hymen. “Jesus Christ your pussy is tight. Not what I’m used to I guess.”

Those are the last words that come out of his mouth as he grunts and pumps, and I feel his balls slap against my skin a few times, and then it’s over before it began. He slumps against me, his breathing still coming hard and fast and moans, “Fuck that was good.”

Rewind—what?

I feel his now deflated penis slither out of me like a wet noodle. I hurry and pull the covers up under my chin after he rolls off and over to the side of me.

He’s spent.

Oh. My. God.

“No worries, babe. Give me five and I’ll be raring to go again.”

“I don’t think so.”

“What? Why?”

“Let’s just finish this champagne. Then you can take me home.”

“Whatever,” he says with a shrug, sitting up and reaching for his underwear. “It’s all about you tonight.”

Pfft.

I let myself into the house as quietly as I possibly can seeing that I’ve missed curfew by thirty-five minutes.

Who’d have thought those few glasses of champagne would be enough to get me hammered until I remembered that I hadn’t eaten anything since I’d picked at my breakfast that morning.

I want more than anything else to forget this evening ever happened! That’s not to say that I regret the path that I took because clearly I don’t.

I had set out to accomplish something, and I in fact
did
accomplish it, though not in the way I would’ve hoped or expected.

I see movement from the sofa that startles me.

Damn!

“You’re
fucking
late.”

“I’m sorry,” I say mustering up my best apologetic voice. “I totally lost track of time.”

Jesse is up and off the couch and doing his very best to be in my face. I can’t help but notice he’s shirtless and my eyes travel south, mentally admiring the way his light cotton pj pants hang low on his narrow hips.

“What the
hell
happened to you?” he asks, his voice getting a bit louder.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Let’s start with your neck. Been hanging with vampires? There are sucker bites all over it.”

Oh . . . shit.

“And what the hell’s all down the front of you, girl?”

“I-I got sick,” I reply, looking down at the pink and tan foamy traces of my puke. I’d thought I’d rubbed it all off after I heaved out the window of Austin’s car on the way home.

“Have you been drinking? Did that boy feed you alcohol tonight?” His eyes are flashing anger—worse than I’d ever seen before. Even worse than when Mama had taken off.

“No,” I lie, “I just ate some cotton candy and soda at the carnival and then went on the Tilt’O’Whirl and it made me sick.”

“I don’t believe a fucking word of what you’re saying,” he growls, clearly pissed, and obviously not buying any of it. “Get your ass to bed. We’ll talk in the morning. I’m disappointed in you, September,” he finishes, shaking his head. “Go on—
get
.”

For a moment, I actually consider whether he’s thinking some form of punishment is in order.

A spanking on my bare ass perhaps?

My mind envisions him pulling me down across his lap; his large hand begins delivering open-palm slaps to my creamy delicate derriere until I start to squirm against his muscular thigh in delightful pain, my swollen clit rubbing against the soft cotton fabric of his pajama bottoms until I come. I picture the wet spot I leave on his thigh.

I scurry off to the bathroom, glancing in the mirror and seeing that I do in fact resemble a ghoul. Mascara is streaked down my cheeks from the tears that escaped while I was retching my guts out in that hotel room. My neck does in fact bear an assortment of hickeys from the foreplay that took place before the ‘deflowering’; my eyes are glassy and a bit red-rimmed from the champagne and tears, and of course, the puke-stained shirt that carries its own stench with it.

I wash my face and brush my teeth and then hurry to the privacy of my room where I peel off everything—including my blood-sprinkled panties, that I quickly toss into the trash can in my room. I want no reminder of that awful two minutes with Austin’s pecker inside of me.

I pull on clean panties and a tee shirt and crawl beneath my covers.

I seriously doubt that Austin will want to see me again, and I hope to God he doesn’t. What a fucktard! Oh well, he’s served the purpose I intended for him to serve.

I might actually have reconsidered going a second round with him after we killed the last of the champagne except shortly afterwards I started spewing it, along with the strawberry remnants from my stomach, onto the king-sized bed in Suite 113 at the Marriott.

Austin had totally freaked and practically carried me out to his car, instructing me to keep my window down and hurl outside of his car if I had to again—which I had.