Twisted Ties, page 23
part #2 of Ties Series
“I thought you had to go home,” he taunted.
“I do, but I thought you said you wanted to fuck me.”
“Oh, I do. Grab the bedposts.”
I did as he’d said, preparing myself for his entry. He didn’t disappoint. He slammed into me hard enough that I had to hold on to the bedposts to keep myself from moving up the bed. I gasped out his name as he pulled out and ran his thumb along my clit.
God, I’m going to kill him for torturing me.
“Again,” I said as I shifted, trying to force him to enter me.
“You like it rough, don’t you, baby?” he teased.
“You know I do,” I groaned.
He ran his hands over my body before grabbing my hips and thrusting into me again. Over and over again, he slammed into me until I was gasping for breath. He wasn’t gentle, and I hadn’t expected him to be. It was just the way we were. He liked rough sex, and I was happy to oblige.
I wrapped my legs around his waist to allow him to go deeper as I met him thrust for thrust. His grip on me tightened as he came closer to his release. I couldn’t hold out much longer either. I was so close. He continued to pound into me as he reached between us. He flicked my clit and sent me screaming into my orgasm. My legs clamped tighter around him as I came. His thrusts became harder and more erratic as he came with me.
My body went limp, and I could see again once my orgasm left me. Joel was panting above me with his forehead resting against mine. Once his breathing returned to normal, he slipped out and rolled over to his side.
“I told you I’d make it quick,” he said as he grinned over at me.
“Yay for you.” I stuck my tongue out at him.
He continued to grin as he leaned over, and then he kissed me. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
We both dressed quickly, trying to hurry. Now that I wasn’t staring at Joel’s naked body, the need to get home was strong. I knew I was in trouble, but I just didn’t care. I was tired of spending all my time trying to figure out ways to get around my parents’ rules.
I knew fighting didn’t solve anything, but it sure as hell made me feel better. Since Joel and I had become a couple, I’d made quite a few enemies, especially from the female population, but I didn’t really give a fuck. He was mine, and if people tried to come between us, I’d take care of them.
I wasn’t the sweet and innocent girl who I’d been before I met Joel. He’d changed me—but for the better. Before him, I rarely drank, and I never got into trouble. Now, I did what I wanted, and I didn’t care what anyone thought of me. I had no friends of my own. I only hung out with his. It didn’t bother me though. I hated girls. My solitude and bad attitude usually led to rumors that I was on drugs or helping him sell them. And both rumors were true, so it didn’t bother me either.
It made most people leave me alone, but there was always some dumb skank who thought she could talk about me or try to push me around. Joel had taught me how to fight since he would bring me along to deals or he’d even send me out to do them on my own if he was busy. I knew how to take care of myself. The girls who talked about me or tried to start fights with me always ended up with blood dripping down their faces as they cowered on the floor.
Most people who were aware of the fact that I was helping Joel deal thought I was nuts, but I considered it a normal part of our relationship. Besides, he never sent me out on deals that were dangerous. He always handled those on his own. I would try to help him as much as possible. I knew that if I got caught, I wouldn’t end up in as bad of a situation as he would since I was under eighteen.
I never used drugs—with the exception of weed. While I had no problem dealing, I didn’t want to end up like one of the addicts who I supplied. They were gross and pathetic. Joel smoked weed a lot, but as far as I knew, that was the only thing he did. We both knew that if he started using, his profits would disappear.
We walked down the steps from the house to where his Harley was parked outside. He was the only guy I knew who was confident enough in his badass reputation to leave his bike out on the street all night. I grabbed my helmet and put it on before climbing on the bike behind him. I wrapped my arms around him as it came to life, and we tore down the street. The ride was short but exhilarating. I loved being on his bike more than anything else. I’d made him promise me that we would go on a road trip the summer I turned eighteen. I wanted out of this town and away from my parents. I just wanted to be free.
We arrived in front of my house faster than I would have liked. While I was in a hurry to get home, I hadn’t taken the time to mentally prepare myself for the fight that was sure to ensue. Sure enough, the front door flew open as soon as Joel parked. My mother stomped down the sidewalk to where we were sitting before I even had the chance to take off my helmet.
“Get. Inside. Right. Now!” she shouted.
I sighed as I pulled off my helmet. This should be fun.
“I can explain—” I started.
She held up her hand to stop me. “I don’t want to hear it. Inside the house—now.”
I kissed Joel’s helmet and hopped off the bike. He started it back up and left, leaving me to deal with my mother alone.
Asshole.
“Mom, let me explain,” I started again, hoping that she would let me talk. “I just wanted to see him for a little bit. I planned to stay with him for only an hour or two, but I fell asleep when we were watching a movie. I woke up and started freaking out.”
“You never should have gone to him in the first place. You’re grounded.”
“You can’t keep us apart. I love him, and he loves me!” I shouted.
“You have no idea what love even is, Alexandria! You’re still a child.”
“Yeah, I do. I know what I feel for him is love, and there is nothing you can do to change that.”
I stomped past her, focusing on the front door in front of me. Once I made it inside, I hurried upstairs to my room. She followed, obviously not finished with me.
“You are not to leave this house for a week. You were kicked out of school for the rest of the week, and since you don’t need to be there, you don’t need to be anywhere.”
“What does it even matter? This is the last week of school anyway. If I hadn’t been suspended, I would have skipped anyway.”
My mother shook her head. “I will never understand you, Alexandria. You’re not my baby girl anymore, and I have no idea what happened to you. I’d blame Joel, but this attitude of yours started long before him. If things don’t change, I’ll—”
“You’ll, what? You might as well figure out what you’ll do to me because this is me, and I won’t change who I am to make you happy.”
“You’re destroying yourself, Alexandria. Look at you—you’re as thin as a twig. You’ve dyed your beautiful blonde hair black and put red through it. You won’t listen, and you have no respect for your father or me.” She glared at me. “And don’t even get me started on those piercings in your lip and nose. They look horrible.”
“Don’t forget about my tattoo. I know how much you love it,” I said sarcastically.
I’d come home almost three months ago with a tattoo on my left arm. It covered most of my inner arm from my elbow to my wrist. I wasn’t eighteen yet, but Joel’s friend was a tattoo artist, so he had done it for me. I’d wanted a tattoo forever, so I’d jumped at the opportunity to get one. I had drawn the design myself. At the top was a skull that ended with partial butterfly wings. Below that was a blue rose. I loved it even though I’d ended up being grounded for a month when my mother saw it.
I really wasn’t sure why she was still so angry over it. I would come home with new body modifications all the time now. I would have thought she’d be used to it by now. Currently, I was rocking a septum piercing and a piercing in my nose along with looped snakebite piercings.
“I’m tired of your attitude, Alexandria. Enough is enough.”
“I love you and Dad, but I’m tired of you both looking down at me. This is my life, and I’ll live it however I want to. I don’t have an attitude. I just can’t handle how you freak out over every little thing.”
My mother’s nostrils flared as she tried to control her temper. She closed her eyes, and I watched as she counted to ten under her breath. Her entire body sagged the second she hit ten. It was like someone had dropped a ton of bricks on her shoulders.
“I don’t know what you expect from me, Alexandria. I refuse to just sit here and watch you self-destruct.”
I stared at my mother as she spoke. She looked tired, the kind of tired that came from worrying. Her blonde hair was hanging limply around her face, and there were lines around her mouth and eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. Her hazel eyes that were identical to mine had fear in them. I felt a twinge of guilt for causing her any worry, but I pushed it away.
“I don’t expect a damn thing from you.”
To me, this is the hardest part of a book to write. There are so many people who have helped me, and I know I will miss a few.
To my husband—Without you, none of my books would have been finished. You’re my rock.
To my parents—You listen to me and help me with everything I need. I wouldn’t be who I am today without you.
To my blogger friends—Gah! I can’t say thanks enough times to all of you. You’re not just bloggers to me. You’re my friends. Without you, no one would even know who K.A. Robinson is. No one would know who Drake and Jesse are. (That would be a damn shame right there, wouldn’t it?) Your support means so much to me.
To my “real-life” friends—Thank you for dealing with my constant absence. I know it’s hard to get a hold of me. I get so into writing that I forget to live sometimes, but you’re always there to drag me back to reality. I love you!
To my author friends: Tabatha, Katelynn, Sophie, Tijan, Jamie, Teresa, Sara, L.B., Debra, and several others I know I’m forgetting—I love you. Seriously. You guys keep me calm, help me when I need it, and remind me to eat. I feel so blessed to call you my friends.
To my readers—Your response to both of my series has been overwhelming. I never imagined that so many of you would care about these two characters the way you do. You guys continue to rock my world on a daily basis. I love you all to pieces.
To Letitia—You make the best covers ever. Thank you!
To Jovana—You deserve a medal for dealing with my crazy self and for reading the unedited mess of a book that I send to you. You rock!
K.A. Robinson is twenty-three years old and lives in a small town in West Virginia with her toddler son and husband. She is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Torn Series and The Ties Series. When she’s not writing, she loves to read, usually something with zombies in it. She is also addicted to coffee, mainly Starbucks and Caribou Coffee.
Facebook: www.facebook.com/karobinson13
Twitter: @karobinsonautho
Blog: www.authorkarobinson.blogspot.com
K. A. Robinson, Twisted Ties
