The Tenth Girl Page 6

  It’s under my uniform, so I can’t see it, but I know that it’s there. Not that I pay it much attention, because we’re down by three going into the last two minutes of this game and I’m so laser-focused that it feels like the one time Grady dared us all to do Adderall.

  The scent of mud and grass fills my nose, the lights of Haven High School’s football stadium beat down on my padded jersey. It’s a home game, which means that the bleachers are packed with screaming fans, some of them without shirts on, chests painted in the late September chill. Our team stands on the sidelines, second-stringers and defensive players all nervously pacing back and forth, chewing on their mouth guards.

  Despite the dropping temperatures, I’m burning up. Sweat drips from my temples, and I’m clenching my jaw as coach screams at me to get this play done and score. Fourth quarter comebacks always make him jumpy, but I know that I’ve got this. This is what I live for, my lifeblood.

  I talk to my guys in our huddle like a general going into war. Each of their faces is pinched and focused, eyes dilated, black paint smeared down their cheeks. Long gone is the fun of halftime, where we peaked out the locker room door to check out the homecoming court girls in their sexy little dresses parading out on the field.

  We break, taking no time at all to get into our positions. I call the play, see the defense shift, and call an audible. Immediately my guys move, my receivers switch, I tick off different words to let them know what we’re going with off the cuff.

  And then I call it, and everything moves. The ground vibrates, growls burst forth. But for me, for my quarterback brain, it all moves in slow motion. Like I’m that superhero in the Justice League movie who can run really fast … can’t think of his name just now.

  I hand the ball off to our running back, Trey, and he does a spin move around one of their lineman, gaining twelve yards and a first down.

  We’re thirty yards from the end zone, and while I could move it slow and steady, I don’t want to. I want fireworks.

  Yeah, I’m in the mood for glory tonight.

  It’s homecoming, let’s give them something to talk about.

  On the next play, I don’t even huddle. I call out our Hail Mary formation, and some of the guys glance at me but do as their told. There is still a minute on the clock, we don’t need to score yet. But I want to, and I know this our best shot.

  The clicking in my brain says so.

  I give the command.

  They move.

  Click. Click. Click.

  Without even narrowing my gaze on Emmitt, I launch the ball, sending it soaring in an arc so perfect, it could touch the moon if that’s where I’d wanted it to go.

  But it doesn’t.

  Instead, it lands in my receiver’s outstretched arms.

  Which are in the end zone.

  I’m tackled, but it’s by my teammates, not the guys who desire to chop my body in half at this moment. The crowd is going insane in the stands. I can hear them shouting my battle cry, the chant they repeat every time I throw a touchdown.

  Raise the Cain!

  Raise the Cain!

  Yeah, it’s going to be a hell of a homecoming weekend.

  * * *

  “Fuck, I wish they would turn this shit off. Play some Aldean!”

  Emmitt is yelling at the DJ, and he’s so hammered that he’s already sweated through his shirt and tie.

  The dance floor, which is really just the tile of our cafeteria with all of the lunch tables cleared out, pulses with energy. Every which way you look, guys grind up on girls, with girls pushing their asses back on the guys crotches. Guaranteed that every person with a dick in this room is semi-hard, and now I’m weirded out looking at all of these guys who are probably sporting boners.

  Right now, a nameless blonde who looks like most girls here, short dress and curled hair, gyrates on my cock, and I hold her hips, maneuvering them.

  The alcohol has all but worn off in the half hour we’ve been here, and I curse myself because I should have snuck in a flask like Emmitt.

  And since my buzz is wearing off, and the tie around my neck is fucking strangling me, I’m not feeling this girl at all. Walking away without an explanation, I stalk off the dance floor. Someone around here has to have booze. I don’t know why I let the guys convince me to come to the actual dance for homecoming, the afterparty was always better and I could actually have my dick played with outside of my pants.

  At the tables on the side, some people are sitting solo. Some drink water, hydrating before going back out there. And others are making out, hands in places that the teachers or chaperones definitely didn’t approve of.

  Toward the back, two girls catch my eye.

  One of them being Harper Posy.

  Shock courses through me, because for some reason I didn’t think this would be her scene at all. No, I know this isn’t her scene. She hasn’t been at any of our football games since she moved to town, and I was sour to admit that I knew she hadn’t been in the crowd. I’d looked.

  Harper also never came to bonfires or parties, and the time I’d caught her lurking was a fluke. Since the night in the woods, I haven’t seen her on the back acres of her grandmother’s property. I should have put two and two together when she moved in there, since the land that Grady’s parents own borders the ranch land.

  My mind drifts back to that bonfire as I look at her in the back corner of the cafeteria. Her surprised gasp when I’d snuck up on her, the way she smelled like summer leaves and the fireflies twinkled around her pale hair. I’d been so close, so close to taking those plump cherry lips.

  I shake my head. After our win last night, we were untouchable. Gods. If I wanted to have a threesome tonight, I could probably convince just about any girl here to get naked with me.

  But there she is, standing in the corner while Mary-Kate tries to drag her out of her chair. Her hair hangs long down her back, like it usually does, and she’s wearing a plain black dress that hugs those massive tits. It doesn’t fit right, which makes her cleavage pop out even more. I was sporting a midi by the time I made it to her.

  “Come on, Harper. One dance? You know you want to shimmy.” I overhear Mary-Kate slur at the new girl.

  She, like most everyone here, had a couple of pre-dance drinks. Probably in the backseat of someone’s truck in the parking lot before chewing a piece of gum on the way in to showing one of the teacher’s at the entrance their tickets.

  “Yeah, new girl, why don’t you dance?” I send a vicious smile her way.

  Both Harper and Mary-Kate look up at me, and the latter is stunned.

  “Cain?” Mary-Kate sputters.

  Not because she is infatuated with me, like most of the girls here, but because she has no idea that I know Harper, outside of the time she yelled at me in English. No one does really. As of now, we’ve had our dalliances in the shadows. Secrets whispered and tension unspoken.

  “MK.” I tip my head. And then move to Harper, my eyes falling down her body. Shit, there was nothing sexier than an untouched chick. “How about it? Just once dance.”

  “I think you should dance with him.” Mary-Kate smiles and pushes her friend toward me.

  Finally, Harper looks up at me. “No, thanks. I don’t dance.”

  “Good thing I’m a great one, then. Dancer, that is. I’ll lead.” I offer my hand, total gentleman-like.

  I think she can tell I’m not going away, and if this will get us both off of her back so she can go home then she’ll do it. Because her expression relents. “Fine, whatever.”

  Her hand slaps into mine, like she’s annoyed she has to do this in the first place. It’s small and warm, her fingers slender and non-committal to the show of affection. The exact opposite of what a good handshake should be, her digits are like limp fish sticks.

  But I keep it moving, ignoring the pull in my chest while my large fingers stroke at her skin as I walk us to the dance floor.

  And of course, the second we move onto the makeshift da
nce floor, all ready to connect our bodies nice and close together and turn her body into a pile of mush that I could mold, is when the beat turns slow and Brad Paisley begins crooning about love.

  Shit.

  I don’t stop though, because I asked for this dance and I can still play her body like an instrument I know like the back of my hand. I’ve been told I’m an expert when it comes to girl’s bodies, and Harper definitely won’t be hard to break.

  Even if she’s proven to be a worthy opponent thus far.

  “You look mighty sexy tonight.” I smirk as I leer at her tits.

  “Gosh, you just make a girl feel special.” She rolls her eyes.

  My hands circle her waist, pulling her into me so that she has no choice but to wrap her arms around my neck. She’s slim and shorter than me, and she feels … dainty in my arms. We sway to the music, and Harper avoids eye contact as much as possible.

  “This doesn’t seem like your scene.” I bend down so that she has to look into my eyes.

  Harper shrugs, licks her lips. “I’ve never been to a school dance before. Figured this was my last shot. Plus, Mary-Kate wouldn’t leave it alone.”

  “You’ve never been to a school dance? Where have you been living, under a rock?”

  Harper scowls at me. “Where I’m from in the Florida Keys, kids are more interested in dime bags and blow than prom and senior skip day.”

  I’d never asked where she’d moved from. In fact, I’d never asked much of anything about her.

  I’m about to ask her about where she’s from and why she moved, what she likes … when my cock gets the better of me. It’s nestled right up against her stomach, she must feel it, and it’s only repeating one thing.

  The tenth girl. The tenth girl.

  Why do I care where she’s from or if she likes to watch movies or TV shows? This is about getting in her pants, not into her head. Who the hell am I right now? Slow dances and conversation.

  Without permission, without tenderness, I bend down and harshly take her lips.

  It’s not in private, as if I’m saying to her that having any type of special moment with her is off the table. That she’s not significant, that she’s just like every other girl here getting tongued and finger fucked under their dresses.

  My lips are bruising, crushing, and I can tell that she’s inexperienced. Somewhere in my chest, a flicker of guilt nips at me. Harper can’t keep up with me, her lips and tongue fumbling. The naivety actually kind of turns me on, and I skate my hands up her ribcage and back down, around to cup and grip her ass.

  Everything in me is lighting up like a wall of elevator buttons, and I can tell that she’s into it because she’s mewling into my mouth.

  My hands at her ass, I start to pry at the fabric, raising it higher. Our lips dance just like we do, and something more than fucking with our mouths is happening.

  This feeling, hot and then cold and then hot, is new. The goose bumps, the semi-nauseous feeling low in my gut. The fear.

  What the fuck?

  Even though it’s a slow song, that doesn’t stop one of my football buddies from passing on the dance floor and saying too loudly, “Get it, Kent!”

  Automatically, Harper stops. She’s still in my arms, the music still floats over our heads, and others around us are none the wiser to the football star and the new girl just having made out.

  But her eyes, those piercing baby blues, are shaken. I know I’ve became a splinter under her skin, she’s not going to be able to shake me now. Harper Posy will fall asleep every night from here to eternity thinking about the kiss I just planted on her inexperienced lips.

  And then she does something so unexpected, I bristle.

  She laughs. A tinkling, melodic sound that grates my nerves but tightens my nuts.

  “You might have won the battle, but you’re definitely going to lose the war.” Harper smirks, a sneaky expression that has my hackles rising.

  “And why is that?” I’m so confused. There is nothing simple about this girl.

  Was I still sure I wanted to make her number ten?

  “Because I’m never going to sleep with you, Cain Kent.” She sees right through me.

  I play with a piece of her white-blond hair. Her shiver tells me that her body thinks otherwise. “I told you I didn’t want to fuck you.”

  “We both know that’s all you do want to do with me. And I’m here to tell you that it’s never going to happen. Because … I’m never going to sleep with anyone. Not until I’m in love, that is.”

  Her confession stuns me, and I’m rendered speechless for a full minute. And during that minute, Harper decides it’s her time to escape. She walks off without a backward glance.

  “Dude, were you just kissing the new girl? The one who schooled you in English?” Grady walks up, his tie askew and pants unbuttoned. He definitely just got laid in the bathroom.

  “I told you, that one is mine. She’s going to be my number ten.”

  I was going for bonus points at the end of this competition, and Harper had just unknowingly thrown down the best gauntlet of them all.

  Virgin pussy.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Harper

  I’m staring at Mary-Kate’s ceiling, the fan whirling above my head.

  Just like the last five nights of this long week, I can’t fall asleep. Or close my eyes. Or dream.

  Because every time I do, I see Cain Kent’s face. His mouth, coming down on mine, the roughness of his kiss. The growl he’d emitted when I’d reciprocated.

  I’d been kissed, but never like that. Nothing quite like that.

  It haunted me in my waking and sleeping moments. Why had I allowed Cain to get to me? He knew, he had to know, that I was staring at the ceiling, thinking about that kiss. I blush all the way down to my toes, which are currently under Mary-Kate’s comforter, thinking of how bad of a kisser I must have been. Cain Kent must have kissed dozens, maybe even hundreds, of girls … all of whom were probably much more skilled than I was.

  I had no idea what I was doing. I let him sweep me along, trying to mimic his movements even as my brain short-circuited from what his mouth was doing. But it hadn’t stopped my body from warming to Cain. I’d woken up every night this week in a sweaty panic, my underwear soaked from the arousal my dreams brought on.

  What is wrong with me? I’d sworn to myself that I’d keep my distance from Cain. I didn’t even know the guy, and I’d agreed to slow dance with him and had then allowed him to maul me in the most public place possible. I wasn’t stupid enough not to know that I was just another girl on his list.

  Gah, I had to stop thinking about him and that kiss.

  “Did you just growl?” MK turns over, the room dark except for her night-light shaped like the Eiffel Tower.

  MK had insisted I sleepover tonight, Friday night, since the football team had a bye week and I’d accidentally revealed that I’d never had the ritual sleepover. So, she’d invited Imogen over, and together, we’d pigged out on popcorn, chocolate, painted each other’s toenails, and yes, had even braided hair.

  Imogen had gone home around eleven, and I’d yawned and brushed my teeth much to MK and her late night plan’s dismay.

  I hadn’t realized I’d done it out loud. “Ugh, yes.”

  “Spill. Sleepovers are all about gossip and pillow talk. But what is said at the sleepover, stays at the sleepover.” MK pretends to zip her lips and throw away the key.

  She was quickly becoming a good friend, and a confidant, and I needed someone to talk to. I was going to burst.

  “You know that I kissed Cain, right?” I sigh.

  MK chuckles. “I don’t think anyone at homecoming missed that little public display of affection. You’ve been the envy of half the school, if you didn’t realize.”

  Maybe that was why half the girls at school said hi to me now, and half looked like they wanted to murder me. “God, I’m such a statistic. Just the next girl in the lineup of Cain Kent.”

  “It
was really that bad? If you dislike him so much, then who cares? It was only a kiss.”

  “To me, kissing is a big deal.” I shove my hand under my head, looking at her on the other pillow.

  MK props up on her elbow. “Wait a second, are you a virgin?”

  “Yes,” I grumble, but then I stiffen my upper lip. “By choice. I want to wait until … I know it sounds stupid and cliché, but until I’m in love.”

  She flops back down and looks at me. “That’s not stupid, Harper. Not stupid in the least. I think a lot of girls wish they’d waited, me included. I lost my V-card in the back of a pickup after a night of drinking with a boy who doesn’t even bother to return my calls. Ain’t that a freaking cliché?”

  I can practically feel her eye roll across the queen sized bed. “I’m sorry, MK. And I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but that’s exactly what I don’t want. I don’t need candles and flowers, but love and comfort and trust are big factors in my decision to have sex. And Cain Kent is guaranteed to supply none of those. So I’m annoyed that I’m now linked to him because of one stupid moment of weakness.”

  She studies me. “You can’t stop thinking about it, can you? And not because you regret it, but because you want to do it again.”

  I hit her with the edge of my pillow. “What are you, psychic?”

  “No, I just speak the same language. We’re teenage girls, Harper. We crave the bad boy, we want for the things we know we shouldn’t touch. It’s imprinted in our DNA at this age.”

  “I can promise you, I’ve never wanted the bad boy before. Something about Cain, it just gets under my skin.”

  MK is silent a moment, and then looks at me. “I’m not saying this because we’re girls and we try to psych each other up about boys. But … he’s different. I can’t put my finger on it, but there is something that happens when he sees you, and I’ve known the boy since kindergarten. Hell, everyone in Haven has known everyone else since diapers. You’re not exactly his type, either.”

  I prop up on an elbow now, too curious to appear nonchalant. “Oh? And what is his type?”