“For two hours? Who has so much to say?” He wrapped his arm around her, which she shifted to accommodate.
“Baby, you know when I said you were cute when you’re jealous? It’s wearing off. Let it go. Dante does not want me, and even if he did, have you noticed where I am?”
“Here,” Matt said, kissing her shoulder. “You’re mine.”
“And I always will be,” she continued. “But now tell me, what was that all about anyway? You’ve never been so rough before. What were you thinking about?” she asked as she held his hand.
“Just doing what Dante told me to do. Taking care of you.”
Chapter Three
Promises, Promises
Sophie Hasler took in the sight of the city lights. It was hard to imagine she had been in the middle of them less than an hour ago at her year 12 formal dance.
She sat in the passenger seat of a convertible parked in a small gravel car park. The surroundings weren’t much to speak of, dark and far too bushy for her tastes. But she had been promised a breathtaking view and she wasn’t disappointed.
Unfortunately, she had a feeling that this would be the turning point in her night. Her formal had been wonderful—everything she had hoped and her date, Steven Hawkins had promised her—but now she felt the burden of expectation on her shoulders.
“So what do you think?” Steven asked, turning off the ignition and sliding an arm around her shoulder.
“The view is really beautiful,” Sophie replied, hating how shy she felt.
He turned to her. “That’s not what I meant.”
His groping hands took her by surprise, as did his lips, fumbling around at her bare neck and chest. She scrunched her nose at the alcohol on his breath. For someone as experienced as he was supposed to be, she was surprised at how clumsy this felt.
“Let’s get in the back,” he whispered.
“Steve…wait.”
“Don’t worry. I have a connie. Let’s make love under the stars, baby.”
“No, I didn’t mean…just wait!” Sophie shoved him off her.
“What the fuck, man? What’s wrong?”
“Steve, I’m sorry…”
“Great! Well, that’s my formal night wasted.” He threw up his hands and turned back to face the front windscreen.
“I’m just not ready.”
“And you couldn’t have told me this before I shelled out for everything tonight? Fuck this, I thought we were on the same page.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You promised me. I never pressured you before, but this is bullshit. Look, fine, whatever. I could’ve had two hot chicks tonight, two! Bi-fucking-sexual. Every guy’s dream. But I told them I wanted you. I believed you. You know what? You’re lucky I’m a nice guy. I could just throw you out right here, but I won’t. I’m taking you home, back to your nice comfy virgin bed. And one day you’ll remember this night and know that I actually deserved more. You’re never gonna see me again. All I wanted was something to remember you by.” Steven started the car in a huff.
“You wanted…to remember me?” Sophie asked softly.
“Forget it.”
“No. Please tell me…”
“So that no matter what happens in the future, you were with me on this night. We shouldn’t live for tomorrow, we should live for today. I thought I meant something to you. Oh well.”
Sophie sat back slowly in her seat, looking thoughtful. Maybe he actually does care about me. She fumbled with his seatbelt, and ran her hand timidly over his groin.
“I won’t go all the way,” she said, “but you really have been wonderful tonight, and I want to say thanks.”
He turned off the engine again.
She unzipped him. Smiling now, he jostled in his seat for her to get his manhood free. She leant forward and, shaking the feeling this was just a guilt-enforced blowjob, enclosed her mouth over him.
Steven sighed and relaxed in his seat, grunting and moaning. He placed his hand on the back of her head and pushed it down. She gagged as he hit the back of her throat.
“I hate that,” she coughed, coming up.
“Keep going.”
She adjusted herself by kissing his shaft and started to flick the head with her tongue. After several minutes of this, Sophie couldn’t help think how bored she was. Why did so many of her friends claim to love giving head? She just felt uncomfortable. Her neck was sore in this position and she was breathing out of rhythm, having really no idea what she was supposed to be doing. Is there a trick to this? Her friends just told her to keep her mouth wet.
Steven suddenly jerked in his seat, trembling, slapping the inside of the door like he wanted to cry out. I guess I’m doing something right, she thought with some amusement.
Sophie felt drops of wetness fall on her hair from above. Must be raining. She ignored it and kept her head moving a little faster, hoping it would be over in a few seconds. His legs jerked violently as her hair suddenly became saturated. That did it.
She released her grip and came up. “Can we put the top down—”
She could not finish the question. She did not remember the question. Her focus was not on Steven, but on the mass of moving hair beside his neck. It was on the hand clamped over his mouth, holding his face to one side, the bulge of his eyes. It was on the woman in the back seat leaning forward, violently ripping his neck to shreds with her teeth, flooding his chest with a thick river of dark blood.
The woman released herself slowly after Sophie’s scream of terror, a chunk of Steven’s neck still in her teeth. She grinned wide-eyed, like a sadistically proud cat presenting a mouse to its owner. Sophie
