He spread her legs open before him, and then he reached behind her, roughly grabbed her ass, and positioned himself in front of her.
“I hate you,” she barked out.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he said as he shoved inside her.
She cried out, and he just covered her mouth with his to muffle the sound of her screams, but it hardly masked the sound of their bodies slapping together.
And he was as rough as he’d promised to be. Pinioning her arms above her head, he savagely thrust into her. Their conflicting emotions fueled their passion. She loved him, and she hated him. She wanted him to fuck her senseless. She wanted him and despised him. She couldn’t stop even if she wanted to…and she didn’t. She just wanted him.
“I want to give it to you deeper,” he told her.
She didn’t resist as he pulled out in one quick motion, gripped her hips, and flipped her over, so she was on all fours in front of him.
“That’s better,” he said, smacking her ass hard with his open palm.
She shot forward as pain blossomed on the spot. He dug into her hips, bringing her back toward him, and then reentered her.
As he started pumping again, his hand twisted around her long mane of hair and tugged until her head was looking upward. Then, he buried himself inside of her. She squirmed against him. Even in her addled brain, it was borderline uncomfortable. He was hitting so deep, but the pain and pleasure mingled when he started moving again. He drew all the way out and then slammed back into her.
After a few agonizingly slow repetitions, she thought she was going to combust. He didn’t seem too far off. Their bodies moved in time. She pushed back into him as he forced his way in over and over again.
Their breathing was labored, and then she felt it. Everything happened at once. He started coming, and her body responded with her own orgasm. She shuddered, and her hands gave out beneath her. He released her hair and was holding on to her hips as he finished.
After a few seconds of heavy breathing, Preston slid out of her and started to right himself. “That was…” he said, trailing off.
“Amazing?” she ventured, flipping over.
“Yeah. Amazing.”
Trihn slid her dress back down her hips and stood. She wished that she could blame what had happened on the alcohol she had consumed today, but she knew it had nothing to do with the reality of the situation. While she had been tipsy, she had been coherent and would have gone through with it sober.
She knew what she had done and how wrong it was. And with every look at Preston…she hated him a little bit more for it.
“Good, because that’s the last time you’ll ever get that again,” she said.
She walked back toward her house, leaving him all alone, without a backward glance. She knew she would torture herself later, but for now, she just needed to hold her head high and get out of there.
One day, that bastard would realize what he was missing.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Trihn peeled her eyes open and frowned. She had a splitting headache, and the noise wasn’t helping anything. It was a consistent boom against the wall at the head of her bed. And it wasn’t going away.
Seriously, what the fuck is that?
She wiped sleep out of her eyes and slowly eased into a sitting position. The noise had pulled her from a dream, leaving her disoriented. Last night was a blur of bad decisions. She hadn’t returned to the party. Instead, she had gone back to her room and passed out to try to forget what had happened.
Looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand showed her that it was still too early for her to be awake. The thumping stopped, and Trihn sighed back into her pillow. She would just get a few more hours of sleep before she thought about what the morning would bring.
“Yes!” a scream split through the wall. “Yes. Yes. Fuck, yes.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Trihn bolted upright. Her eyes snapped open. She ignored the stab of pain in her skull as realization dawned on her. She knew exactly what that sound was.
But no…he wouldn’t. There was no way. She couldn’t believe it. Her mouth went dry as the noise escalated in the other room.
Oh, but he would. He would absolutely have sex with Lydia in her room next to Trihn’s the morning after having just had sex with Trihn. That was exactly what he had been doing the whole time she was dating him.
She was so angry that her hands shook. She wanted nothing more than to wring his neck.
And cry. Crying seemed like a viable alternative.
But her tear ducts were dry. She didn’t want to shed a tear for him anyway. She just wanted to hold on to this anger. This anger would drive her, fuel her, rather than crumple her and make her collapse under the weight of the deception.
She had known how wrong it was to let Preston fuck her last night. It was an infinite amount of wrong. She had walked away, knowing that it was the end—the official end at least.
But she hadn’t thought that meant he would be fucking her sister the next morning. It hadn’t even been twelve hours, and already, he was getting off with someone else.
Trihn jumped out of bed and threw on shorts and a T-shirt. She slipped into a pair of sandals, grabbed her backpack and headphones, and then rushed out of her room. She noisily slammed the door behind her. Hopefully, they would realize that she had heard, and they would feel bad about it, but she knew Preston wouldn’t. He probably wouldn’t even stop. Nothing could change the fact that she had heard it anyway.
She trotted down the stairs two at a time and went through the kitchen. She had almost made it to the back door when her mother stopped her.
“Trihn, is that you?” Linh called.
“Yeah, Mom. Just going over to Ian’s,” Trihn called back.
“Wait, just one minute.”
Trihn sighed and slunk back into the kitchen. “What?”
Linh raised her eyebrows. “What’s with the attitude?”
“Just on my way out.”
“That’s fine, but don’t spend the whole week over there. Ian will be in the city next year, and you can spend your time with him then. We’re going out on the sailboat later, and you two should join the family.”
“Ian and I aren’t together, Mom,” she quickly clarified.
“No one said you were.”
Trihn snorted and started walking away. “Everyone is just insinuating it.”
Linh shrugged her shoulders. “He’s a nice boy.”
“Ugh! Mom!”
“Fine. I’ll see you two later, but please try to change into something more suitable for the boat.”
Trihn rolled her eyes and quickly left the house. The last thing she wanted to do was go on a sailboat with her family and Preston. Besides the fact that no one going on that sailboat should be wearing fucking white, she couldn’t handle another family outing. She couldn’t handle Lydia. She couldn’t handle Preston. She just wanted out.
And out was the only thing she was thinking about as she dashed across the yard and over to the Petersons’ house. She didn’t bother knocking. Even though it was early, she knew Ian had likely been up, gone for his morning run, and eaten breakfast. It was his MO. Didn’t matter that he had drunk nearly as much as her last night. He was a stand-up guy.
She found him back on the patio. His parents were seated around the table. His mother was carefully slicing a grapefruit while his father read the paper. Ian had his computer in front of him and was typing away at the speed of light.
“Hey,” she said when she walked in on them.
Ian’s head shot up. He had circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. Or maybe he was hungover. She had never seen him hungover, but it was possible.