Kid
: Chapter 8

The house reeks of weed and sex.

Two things I very much enjoy. Walking into the ritzy house, Brynn leads me by the hand upstairs to one of the empty bedrooms, only to replace that they’re already taken.

This place has become a party haven this summer. I wonder what Bran’s parents would think if they knew he was trashing the family home while they’re casually sipping their mimosas on the family yacht. Oh, who am I kidding? They’d just buy another fucking house.

I look around the top floor, replaceing a pull-down door to a creepy-looking attic. Pulling her up the wooden, creaky stairs, we replace a small angular room that will provide a space for us to do what we came to do. The room is dusty and filled to the brim with old belongings. One tiny bulb near the door is all we have to illuminate the space. There’s an old desk with the globe perched on top of it giving me a dirty library feel, and there’s a three foot long bottle sitting nearby with one of those pop up ships inside of it.

I was always fascinated by how the hell those were made when I was younger. I thought for sure it took a bit of sorcery, or some sort of unworldly intervention to create such intricate replicas of large, detailed ships inside of those tight, glass bottles. But now, knowing how stupidly simple they are to create, it takes the magic right out of it. Now I kind of hate them. Fucking lying bottles of boats.

Brynn shuts the small door behind her before walking towards me, biting her bottom lip playfully as she grins. She locks her fingers through mine as I smile, pulling us back towards an old covered couch.

“You fascinate me, Kid,” she smirks, straddling my lap. “But you’re trouble.”

“That I am,” I reply, pulling her down to taste more of that tongue.

We kiss again, her hands replaceing their way into my unruly hair. Our tongues massage each other’s, and she moans when I press my hips up into her. She pulls my head to the side by my hair, kissing the side of my neck as I roll her hips against my growing hard-on.

I open my eyes as she continues the welcomed assault on my neck and I come face to face with my worst nightmare.

There, in the corner by the opposing wall on top of a tall collection of random old radios, is a tiny little face I can’t unsee. Hidden in the darkness is a dead, stuffed squirrel wearing, you guessed it, a black sombrero. Brynn lifts my shirt, removing it over my head, and continues kissing me as I stare at the uneven, beady eyes glaring at me from the corner.

Like the ship in the bottle, Han has now taken the magic of out the fucking room. I didn’t even realize it but I’m now glaring at the sombrero squirrel. Brynn leans back in my lap, eyeing my strange disposition, looking from me to the dark corner and back.

“Kinda creepy up here, isn’t it?” she asks, stalling on my lap.

“It’s straight demonic,” I comment, staring at the tiny broken arm that’s been left at a horrific looking right angle while simultaneously holding what looks to be a maraca.

There’s a loud crash sound coming from outside, followed by a crowd cheering. My eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Only at Bran’s.” She shakes her head, scoffing. “Come on, let’s go get another drink.” She pats my shoulders, clearly feeling the awkwardness of the disrupted moment.

We head back down towards the rest of the party, which has grown by at least fifty people since we were last present.

Cole and Hawke are talking to a group of friends near the bonfire off the beach, laughing and casually drinking while a buddy of theirs does a beer bong. A blonde chick with short hair standing near Cole gives me the sex eyes as Brynn and I approach.

“Kid! You’re up next!” Cole screeches animatedly, on her way to being drunk.

“Nah, I’m good, baby, that’s all you,” I comment, making blondie raise a suggestive brow.

Girls love it when you say baby, even if it’s not them, because they imagine it’s them and they feel things. Ugh, the things I know.

As we’re sitting there watching this man guzzle some sort of cheap malt beverage directly into his stomach, my eyes wander over to the outdoor patio furniture near the house.

Immediately, I notice a set of eyes locked on mine from a distance, sending a strange sensation up my spine.

Han is sitting there, staring at me with an expressionless face, her lips slightly parted. I stare back at her for a moment, my parted mouth mimicking hers. She turns away after a brief staring exchange, leaning into the guy who has his arm draped around her shoulders on the couch.

Her hair is up today with some sort of teal color on the ends. She’s wearing the tiniest little black button-up shirt that ends at her ribs, being held together with one button just above her breasts, which are clearly not restrained by a bra again. Her entire toned abdomen, littered with tiny random tattoos, is showing, but it’s the baggy, ripped, oversized shorts that get me. Her style is everywhere, but man, does it fucking work. There’s a group of about five guys all circled around them while the one holding her tells some animated story as they all listen.

It’s suddenly somewhat awkward being in her presence with Brynn right up on me. She wraps her arm around my waist and instantly I get the itch to do a line of coke in the bathroom. So I part from her and do just that.

I leave the bathroom by myself, feeling the numbness in my nose. I just needed to think clearly around Han, not like this weird, sad puppy who wants attention from his owner, so I took to the coke to bring my confidence back.

As I walk down the hallway, I get pushed into one of the now empty rooms.

“Fuck! What—”

“Shhh…” she whispers, shutting the door behind her. “He can’t know I’m in here. He’d kill me.”

I don’t know what she’s talking about or what she’s doing, but I’m here for it.

“Han, what are you doing?”

“I need your help,” she whispers, grinning mischievously. “We’re going to break into Bran’s safe, get back what’s mine.”

“What?! Han…what are you talking about?”

She grabs me by my shirt, pulling me into her chest. My clumsiness has me falling forward, bumping into her with a thud as she lets out a giggle at the sudden forceful contact.

“You’re like dead weight,” she says, our bodies pressed against each other.

“I’m more wheat grass,” I reply, looking down at her green speckled eyes.

Before she can even try to understand me, she clutches my shirt into a tight fist, forcing me down until her lips are on mine. I’m shocked at the feeling of her soft kiss on me. She pulls away for a second, looking back and forth between my eyes, her breathing somewhat frantic, before wrapping her hand around the base of my neck to pull me down again.

Her tongue touches mine and my dick twitches. I roughly grab her by the back of the neck, pushing her until her back hits the wall and I can seal my body against hers. My hand instinctively replaces her breast, cupping it roughly over her shirt before she pulls her lips away from mine again.

“Fuck,” she breathes, her eyes heavy with sudden lust.

I press my lips against hers as she tilts her head slightly, opening her mouth wider as she massages my tongue with hers. The tongue ring glides along the length of mine before she slightly tilts her head in the other direction, running the length of the other side of my tongue with a forceful yet slow lick, as if she’s tasting an ice cream cone.

Fuck me, she knows how to kiss.

All I can think about is that tongue ring licking up the underside of my shaft when she pulls apart from me again, gasping for air as she does.

“Sorry, just had to see something,” she breathes out, tucking her hair behind her ear then trailing her hand down her neck then slowly trailing her fingers across her pierced nipple that’s completely aroused and erect through her tiny button-up shirt.

“See what?” I ask, still breathless, my dick ready regardless of the answer.

Shaking her head, not answering my question, she looks all around the room.

“We gotta get to work.”

She drops to the floor, leaving me in a heaping pile of holy fuck what just happened, as she crawls towards a large safe that’s propped up in the corner of the closet.

“So you wanna use me as an accomplice to a crime? What does this Bran cat have of yours, anyway?”

“Too many questions,” she says, twisting the combination while looking at the inside of her forearm.

I look over her shoulder, peering at her arm, which appears to be covered in numbers smeared with purple lipstick.

“Watch the door,” she whispers quickly.

I turn, walking towards the door that’s now opening. I quickly put my foot against the base, stopping it from opening.

“Hey, what the fuck!? What are you doing in my room?!”

It’s the guy she was sitting next to by the fire, the one that had his arm around her. The prick I’m assuming to be Bran. The guy who lives here. The guy hosting the party.

“Sorry man, room’s taken.” I smirk with an arrogance about me.

Peering back into the room, Han shakes her head with a frown, telling me whatever she was looking for wasn’t there. Closing the safe, she twists the lock again before heading towards the window, quickly opening it. Dipping her head out before each of her legs, the legs that have me wishing they were wrapped around me again as she claws at my back, moaning for more of my dick deep inside her, she disappears. She quickly reappears, popping her head back in the window to give me a little salute before crawling along the roof.

She’s crazy as fuck, and I love it.

Bran pushes against me again, bringing me back from the distraction. This little punk couldn’t open the door if he threw his whole body against it. As he throws his shoulder into it, I stand back, letting him fall through into the room, sprawling his Tommy Hilfiger ass all across the floor.

He scurries to get up, scanning the room as I stand against the door with a grin.

“What the fuck were you doing in here, punk boy? Jerkin’ off by yourself!?”

“One of your socks, bruh. You’ll want to wash it,” I give him a head nod before leaving the room.

Heading back to the beach, I wonder what the fuck Han was trying to get back from him. Was it money for drugs? Drugs themselves? Was she really over there canoodling with him to somehow get the lock combination, only to write it down with her own lipstick on her arm in order to break into his safe?

A fucking badass bitch.

“Kid! C’mere! Brynn’s in need of some warmth!” Cole yells at me, seeing me nearing the fire.

I know what she’s doing. Trying to solidify the hookup. While she’s a great wing woman, I can’t help but realize Han is on the other side of the fire watching us as she talks to a group of surfer guys.

Brynn is curled up on a tiny blanket in the sand, smiling all cute at me. I sit down behind her, leaning back on my elbows with her between my legs. She lays back, pulling my legs tightly around her to get warm.

“Where d’ya go?” She leans back, looking up at me with her head against my chest and an easy smile.

“Bathroom,” I reply simply. It’s a lot easier than saying I was just snorting coke, making out with my crush across the fire, and breaking into the safe of the guy who’s hosting the party.

Everyone is wildly drunk or on their way there after another hour or so. Hawke’s got Cole pinned in a corner, doing the freaky shit they like to do, while Brynn’s run off to the bathroom, feeling sick after doing yet another beer bong. I think that’s three for her now. I’m not sure if this is her style or if she’s trying to impress me, but her friends are keeping a close watch on her.

Sure enough, she returns after a few minutes with a couple of girls holding onto her arms.

“Think we’re gonna take her home,” a girl named Shay informs me.

I give her a head nod, saying goodbye as they lead her away towards the car, Brynn’s head seemingly hard to keep upright.

Poor girl can’t hang.

I hear laughter nearby, or should I say, a certain someone’s laughter. The kind that seems to make my heart want to beat irregularly in my chest. It pulls my attention back towards them as I see a guy pick Han up from the sand, throwing her over his shoulder as they race out into the water.

I’m not jealous. I don’t get jealous. I’m just concerned about her wellbeing. The water, late at night? Irresponsible. There are sea urchins and shit.

A crew of about five guys, another girl, and Han go play around in the water, swimming in their clothes as I stare in their direction.

“Afraid of the water?” a voice says softly beside me.

I turn to see the blondie with the short hair who was giving me sex eyes earlier, now planting herself next to me in the sand. She swooped in real quick after Brynn’s departure. Like a damn vulture. But it’s cool, I don’t mind having my meat ate.

“Why would you say that?” I question with a bit of a smirk.

“The way you were just looking at it. Like it terrifies the life right out of you.” She knits her brows with a smile. “What’s that about?”

I look back at Han, who’s now perched on the shoulders of some guy, playfully laughing and splashing about.

“Dark water is a scary, scary place. Things pull you under when you least expect it,” I reply, not talking about the water at all.

One guy throws his shirt at her as she falls back from the position on the other dude’s shoulders. She reappears, laughing and playfully splashing shirt-guy before he runs towards Han in the water, tackling her and pulling her under with him. My jaw tightens for some strange reason. Probably because stingrays. Reckless.

“Well, dry land is where you shall remain. It’s safe, warm…void of the unknown. Here you know what you’re getting into.” She cocks her head towards me, lifting that brow of hers suggestively again.

“Oh yeah? And what am I getting into with you?” I question, dipping my head back over to her flirtatiously.

“Why don’t we go replace out?”

She stands, brushing the sand off her denim skirt, holding out a hand for me to grab. I glance back to the water, seeing Han in the arms of one guy, then back at blondie’s hand.

“Fuck it. Let’s.”