Because of You Page 3

  “Feel good, Catherine?”

  I nodded, not able to speak.

  “Tell me,” he harshly demanded.

  “So good, Sutton.”

  He groaned, and the vibrations on my throat went right to my clit.

  “I love it when you say my name because you’re so fucking turned on.”

  I wanted him to touch me, desperately. As if he read my mind, he slid his hand down my chest and cupped my breast.

  A virgin. That was what I was. I wouldn’t tell him, wouldn’t stop this and confide that I had never been with a man before. Maybe he already knew, felt it as he tore through my innocence.

  Or maybe he hadn’t known, been able to tell.

  The room spun, and I didn’t know if it was because I was so far gone in my arousal, or because I’d had a little more than I should have to drink. Either way I felt like I was floating.

  A low rumble left him, and he flattened his tongue at the base of my throat, dragging it up slowly.

  When he pulled back he looked down the length of my body.

  He pushed back inside of me and I cried out.

  “Watch me, baby. Look at what I’m doing to you.”

  I rose up and braced my upper body on my elbows, watching as he pulled out of me and pushed back in.

  “You see what you do to me, how hard you make me?” His dick glistened with my arousal. He started thrusting a little faster, my pussy hugging his length, stretched around his girth. He cupped one bared breast, rolled the nipple between his thumb and index finger, and moved to the next. Sutton did this repeatedly while continuing to thrust into me, over and over again until I was mindless with need.

  Spreading my legs even wider so he could settle his hips between them, I felt the air leave me when all of his weight pressed me into the bed once more. Seconds later, he braced himself on his forearms by my head and lifted his upper body partially up. He never took his gaze from me.

  “Wrap your legs around me, baby.”

  I lifted my legs and hooked them around his lean waist. He didn’t tease me anymore, just slammed right into me hard and fast. Fucking me.

  A gasp of pain and pleasure left me.

  A mask of ecstasy washed over his face, perspiration covering his skin.

  “You’ll never know how good you feel to me; how good it feels to be inside of your body.” The drugged look he wore had my inner muscles clenching around his length, which caused him to groan deep in his throat.

  He breathed out harshly, his big balls slapping my ass as he pushed into me harder than before. “This is nothing compared to what I want to do.” His face became fierce in appearance. “I want to own your body … own you.”

  And then he became a wild man, uninhibited, intense … free in his passion. What Sutton was doing to me at this moment couldn’t be called anything but fucking me raw.

  “I’m sorry,” he grunted out. “I should take you slow, be gentle.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “But I can’t. You feel too fucking good.” My breasts shook from the force of his thrusts.

  He made this low, almost animalistic sound before pumping into me once, twice, and on the third time burying his dick so far into me I cried out as I came.

  He pumped all his cum inside of me, filled me up so I was marked by him. I felt like I was now his.

  We fell to the side at the same time, and Sutton immediately curled his arms around me, bringing me close to him. I was high from the euphoria moving through me, from what we’d shared, from the fact I’d given my virginity to Sutton. He was still semi-hard inside of me, and as much as I should regret what I’d done, as much as I knew this would probably cause a lot of issues come morning, all I felt was euphoria.

  I was with Sutton, and in this moment, nothing else mattered.

  Chapter Four

  Sutton

  I held onto Catherine’s hand and led her out of the party. My heart was still racing after what we’d done. We hadn’t spoken much after the fact, but she had to know this wasn’t a one-night stand. I wasn’t about to let her walk away.

  I looked over my shoulder at her, Catherine’s focus on the ground, the long fall of her dark hair obscuring part of her face. I got hard just looking at her, the feeling of her hand in mine, the memory of what we’d done. She’d been so responsive to me, so receptive under me. She’d taken every part of me, claimed it as her own.

  She might never know that, never fully understand it, but it was the truth. I wasn’t going to let Catherine go.

  She’d been mine from the moment she’d walked into my life. The way she looked, the sweet smell of her, the way she felt beneath me. No one could ever take that from me. We were so young, I knew that, but what I felt for her was real.

  Our ages weren’t an obstacle.

  Our family wasn’t an obstacle.

  I would be with Catherine.

  We might not have spoken fully on what this all meant, but we had all the time in the world. I would make sure she knew exactly where I stood.

  We left the house and started making our way across the lawn. I needed to get her home where she was safe and the idea of a drunken bastard hitting on her wasn’t a threat, wouldn’t turn me into a possessive asshole.

  I pulled her closer to me, the drunks weaving back and forth, getting too close to what was mine.

  This possessive feeling slammed into me at the knowledge that I had claimed her. I filled her up, made her take every last drop of my cum. I had no doubt if I spread her pretty thighs and ran my tongue on the inside of her thighs, I’d be able to smell myself on her. I heard this loud rumble and realized it came from me, an almost primal sound that had left the center of my chest.

  Before we took another step, someone knocked into her, having her thrust against me hard enough we both stumbled backwards. A football landed a few feet away, the guy who had knocked into Catherine laughing obnoxiously as he looked over at us. It was clear he was trashed, the glazed-over, red-rimmed look in his eyes clear.

  He looked sweaty, like he’d been running laps around the house. He brought the beer bottle he held up to his mouth and took a long drink from it, finishing it off before tossing it aside, the glass shattering against the pavement. He started laughing harder, which in turn had his buddies doing the same thing.

  “Watch where the fuck you’re going,” he slurred out and chuckled. I didn’t miss how his focus was trained on Catherine, or the way he looked her up and down. His focus was glued on her, and he licked his lips.

  “Watch the fuck where we are going? You ran into us.” I curled my hands into fists at my sides. I should’ve walked away but I felt myself moving forward, wanting to knock this guy on his ass. I knew who he was, one of the rich kids at school, a pompous asshole who thought he could get away with anything without any repercussions because his daddy would bail him out.

  I found myself taking another step forward. He kept checking her out and that made me pissed. She was mine and no one else got to look at her.

  A few of his buddies came up and stood behind him, maybe seeing the tension between us, the look on my face that said I was about to beat his ass. I could take them all though. I was big for my age, tall and muscular from working out. It might be three of them now, but hell, I’d take all of them down.

  I was feeling so possessive of Catherine, so pissed that he’d knocked into her, that he was checking her out, that I found it hard to control myself. I found it hard to walk away even though I knew it was the smart thing to do.

  But Catherine tugged at my hand, her small fingers curled around my wrist, this lifeline that instantly had me stopping and looking over at her.

  “He’s not worth it,” she said softly.

  I felt everything kind of fade away, like nothing else mattered except getting her out of here. And I did just that, turned my back on the asshole and his friends and took a step away from them, leading her.

  “Pussy,” he said and I felt my body tense. But I could handle some low-blow name calling.
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  “Although you can leave her,” he added. “Her and I can have a real good time. Bet her pussy is as tight as that stick up her ass.”

  I felt that self-control snap right in half. I turned and Catherine tried to pull me back. I could hear her telling me, asking me to just leave it be. But I couldn’t. He’d insulted her, was vulgar about her. He needed my fist in his face to learn a lesson.

  I saw red, my whole body tight, my muscles contracting. He and his buddy started laughing, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. I was on him a second later, tackling him to the ground and knocking his friends away. He was smaller than me but beefy, had a wrestler’s body. I slammed my fist into the side of his face. His head cocked to the side, blood pouring out like a tap had turned on.

  His friends were on me, trying to pull me off, throwing sucker punches in my sides. But I felt nothing but my rage for this little asshole. I slammed my fist into his face again, heard bone crunch, saw blood splattering on his shirt.

  He used his strength to roll me over so he was now the one on top, his fist connecting with my jaw. But I felt no pain. All I felt was this intense need to avenge Catherine’s honor. Like I was some fucking old-school hero needing to right a wrong. Where she was concerned nothing else mattered but protecting her, even if that protection was from words.

  We grappled on the ground, punches getting thrown, people shouting out to see more violence. I didn’t know how long we fought, maybe a few moments, maybe longer than that, but before I knew what was happening the sound of sirens rang through the air.

  Everything came crashing back to me, noises around us, people scattering in different directions. But still I fought with this asshole. His buddies tried to pull me off, but he and I were too into this to back out.

  “You asshole,” he grunted when I slammed my fist into his gut. “You’re going down for this.” That was the last thing he said before the police were pulling us apart. I finally took in a breath and let reality sink in. I stared at the asshole, blood covering his face and his shirt, knowing I probably looked the same way. But it had been worth it.

  I saw the police speaking with him, almost reassuring him. In this shitty little town money bought friends, and it was clear I was going to be the one who got shafted in all of this. I looked over at Catherine to see her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide. Tears streamed down her cheeks and I felt my chest clinch in pain.

  I’d put that look on her face.

  Me.

  And no matter what happened, no matter what repercussions came out of all this, the only thing I regretted was that I hadn’t listened to her and walked away.

  Chapter Five

  Catherine

  I knew how this would end as soon as Sutton threw the first punch.

  Michael Crawford was one of the elite in town, an asshole with a lot of money, and a dick for a father who didn’t hesitate to use his connections to get what he wanted.

  That’s why I tried to stop it, not just because I knew Sutton would do some serious damage, but because I knew Michael wouldn’t hesitate in burying Sutton. And as I watched them put the guy I loved in the back of the cruiser, this sinking, tight knot in my stomach intensified.

  Michael was off to the side with his father, a paramedic looking them over. Michael’s father spoke with one of the police officers, the two men grinning as if they were talking about a day at the country club.

  The party, although underage drinking had been involved, was clearly not the issue. Although many of the partygoers had scattered, it seemed the police officers could care less that there was enough alcohol on the premises to open a small liquor store.

  No, they were more worried about Michael’s broken nose and bruised ego. Either way, they’d screw Sutton over and I knew there was nothing anybody could do about it.

  Sutton’s father didn’t have the kind of money or connections that these people did. He was blue collar all the way through. I looked at Sutton and saw he was watching me. He mouthed something but I couldn’t make it out. I took a step forward, wanting to go to him. He gave me a small smile as the cruiser pulled away.

  And in that moment my heart broke, just split in two. Sutton leaving was like a little part of myself went with him.

  But I’d wait for him. I’d always wait for him.

  I felt like I was in a cage, and I suppose I was. I sat on the hard-plastic chair, a small counter in front of me, a plastic barrier between me and Sutton. He hadn’t moved since he’d sat down a moment ago, just staring at me, his face showing this hard, stoic expression. I could tell he wasn’t pleased I was here, but I had to see him, even if it was in this situation.

  I reached to my right and picked up the black plastic phone. The thick silver metal cord that came out the bottom of it was attached to the wall. It reminded me of an old-school payphone. As I held it to my ear, I stared at Sutton, waiting for him to do the same. Finally, he exhaled, his shoulders slouching slightly as he picked up the phone and brought it to his ear.

  “Hi,” I said, not knowing what else to say. He’d been locked up for assault, Michael’s father pulling strings to get him put in here. Although it wasn’t technically jail, it was a sort of juvenile holding facility despite the fact that he was an adult. I suppose that was a small miracle. Michael’s father probably could’ve made it a lot worse.

  I guess this was more of a holding facility for the degenerates and bad boys. It still broke my heart seeing him on the other side of that plastic barrier. I wanted nothing more than to reach out to him, to hold him, tell him that I wasn’t going anywhere. But the look on his face told me he’d shut off, built this wall around himself.

  “Talk to me, Sutton.” I hated that he was so closed off. He had been like this when we first started living together, when my mother married his father. But it hadn’t taken him any time at all to open up to me. Then we became friends, inseparable, and my love for him had grown.

  “I hate that you’re here,” he finally admitted. “I don’t want you coming back, Catherine.” His jaw clenched after he spoke, as if he hadn’t wanted to say the words.

  I refused to cry at his harsh tone. We hadn’t been able to be together, hadn’t been able to talk about what we’d shared that night at the party. He’d been taken away so fast that my world had turned upside down.

  “Sutton, you’re just upset. I can’t believe you really don’t want me here.” I curled my hand round the phone even tighter when he didn’t respond, just kept that stoic expression. “You don’t want to see me for the whole year?” I asked incredulously.

  “I don’t want you seeing me like this. So no, Catherine. I don’t want you coming back.” His voice cracked on the end as if he were trying to keep his emotions in check. “I love you, but please, baby. Please stay away.” And then he put the phone back on the cradle and I was left there feeling like my heart had just been ripped out of my chest for a second time.

  Chapter Six

  Catherine

  Six weeks later

  I didn’t know what had happened, only that he’d been sent away, gone from my life for the next year. My heart was racing, the tears threatening to spill. But I forced myself to be strong. Although breaking down seemed like the easiest thing to do right now, something I desperately wanted to give in to.

  I straightened and breathed out slowly, willing myself to stay strong, especially right now. But my undoing was the little test in my hand, that little stick with two plus signs in pink, that had me on the verge of a mental breakdown.

  Pregnant.

  I’d only had sex once, given myself to one person.

  But it seemed that was enough.

  I’d gotten pregnant from that one night with Sutton.

  My hands were shaking and I felt like that tether that was keeping me grounded was about to break in two.

  And I wouldn’t even be able to tell him about this, not now at least.

  I closed my eyes and thought about the future, what this meant, how everyone
would handle it. I knew one thing for certain, and that was I wouldn’t tell anyone Sutton was the father, no one except my mother and stepfather. They deserved to know, at least.

  But what would they say, what would they think of me now?

  Pregnant at eighteen with my stepbrother’s baby.

  He was known as the delinquent, a troublemaker. But I saw him as the boy I loved, the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. And he wasn’t even here to help me through this, to keep me grounded.

  That tether started to fray.

  And then the tears did spill, fat droplets of salty water cascading down my cheeks and landing on my jean-clad thighs. I set the test strip on the counter and wiped my tears away, breathing out slowly through my pursed lips as I stared at the closed bathroom door.

  Pregnant.

  A mother before I was even out of my teen years, before I’d even gone off to college.

  God, my life had changed so drastically, and all because of one night of passion.

  I wouldn’t wait to tell my mother. What was the point? My mother and stepfather would find out eventually—hell, the town would find out soon enough.

  I stood and faced the mirror, bracing my hands on the sink. The girl who looked back at me in the reflection sported red-rimmed eyes and glossy cheeks from the tears moving down her skin.

  Stay strong.

  “I can do this,” I said to that girl, who looked so scared and unsure in that moment. “I have to do this.”

  I had no choice.

  I placed my hand on my belly and looked down.

  A baby.

  Sutton’s baby.

  And amidst all the fear that consumed me, I felt a glimmer of happiness, a light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel.

  I was having Sutton’s baby.

  My mother and stepfather were silent as they sat across from me, my mother’s eyes wide and this look of horror on her face. Of course, I hadn’t expected them to be okay with me getting knocked up at eighteen, and I especially didn’t expect them to be all right with the fact that the father was Sutton.