Sorrow (Cape Frost #1)

13

When Boo takes off for work, I’m almost too eager for my next lesson. My nerves are shot, my mind is a mess, and I’m desperate to feel something other than the sensation of wanting to crawl out of my own skin. If anyone can put me back in my body, it’s Hayes Sarro.

I find him on the couch watching some stupid action movie I couldn’t give a shit about. But the colors reflecting off his face from the TV make him look softer somehow, nothing like the cold, callused brother’s best friend I’ve come to know and mostly fear.

He looks... human.

For a while, I stand there in the shadows and just watch him. I watch the way he moves, the way he fidgets. The tick in his jaw that doesn’t seem to be caused by the movie.

What’s he thinking about?

“Hayes?” I call softly, hoping not to startle him as I round the corner to the living room. “The sun went down.”

Brown eyes flick over to the window like he doesn’t have blackout curtains over them, and then back at me. “Yeah. Come here.”

He tosses the remote aside and pats his lap, giving me something to focus on as I cross the too-far distance. At least I don’t trip over my own feet as I kneel this time.

Meeting his eyes, I ask, “What’s tonight’s lesson?” And then, “Blow jobs again?”

“No, I tapped my lap, Sam. Not the ground. Come here.”

Shit. I should’ve known that. Maybe my mind is more of a mess than I thought. “I’m sorry,” I whisper quickly, ignoring the heat in my cheeks as I climb up into his lap.

This still feels too intimate, especially with him.

“That’s a good girl. You had a long day, didn’t you?” He tilts my face toward his with his fingers, and I swear when I meet his gaze he’s a completely different person. “You want me to help you let all of that go for a little while? ”

It’s just like him to see right through me. He’s done it my whole life, but this is the first time he’s offered to make me feel better instead of trying to make me feel worse.

I don’t want to admit how much I need it right now.

“Yes,” I breathe. “Please.”

“Okay. You did so good yesterday, you know that? That’s how I know you’re going to do good today, too. I think we need to work on getting you into a different headspace before anything else. I am gonna ask you to kneel again, but first give me a kiss.”

My stomach flips violently. The first time, I didn’t see the kiss coming. He just did it. I didn’t have to think about what it meant or where to put my hands or if I should use tongue.

I didn’t have to face the fact that I want to kiss him.

God, that’s a terrifying thought.

Reminding myself quickly what I’m doing this for — and who I’m doing it for — I reach up to gently touch his face, letting my gaze drop from his eyes to his lips, and then I kiss him.

He lets me lead for less than a minute and then devours me, his tongue slotting into my mouth like it belongs there as his hand grips the back of my head to hold me in place.

His other slides under my shirt to touch my skin, setting me on fire.

Is this it? Is he finally going to fuck me?

Nerves and excitement coil inside of me as I reach down to pull his cock out, smiling a little when I feel him twitch under me and bite at my bottom lip. He’s already fully hard. “On your knees, Hurricane. You’re going to keep me warm for a while.”

What?

Exhaling hard, I talk myself out of arguing with him. He’s made it clear that respect and compliance are absolutely necessary in order for him to keep teaching me, so I pout just a little as I slide down to the floor.

Knowing what he wants, I kiss the head of his cock before I suck just enough to get him wet, then hold steady with my eyes on his.

“Good girl. You’re not there yet, so just lay your head on my thigh and breathe with me.”

He swipes his thumb along my cheek so gently it catches me by surprise, though it does quell a little bit of the frenzy .

I don’t think he understands how hard this is for me. Part of me feels like I’m betraying myself by giving him any pleasure at all, and the other part of me is so ready to get fucked that I can’t stand waiting.

It’s also hard to ignore what’s at stake here.

But again, I tell myself not to argue. Again, I let out a breath and stay steady.

Each stroke of his thumb helps, even when his attention moves away from me and back onto the TV. “I know finding patience is hard sometimes, but it’s essential. Relax for me.”

Mind reading little shit.

Huffing, I adjust my tongue and let my eyes flutter closed. I can’t relax when I’m looking at him, my chest becomes chaos — lust, irritation that I’m doing things to please him, irritation that I want to please him — so he can forget the whole eye contact thing for now.

He lets me stay there until I feel the tight anxiety in my chest loosen, and when I hear the credits roll, Hayes clicks his tongue to get my attention. “There she is. Feel better, pretty girl?”

My jaw aches, but otherwise?

Yes .

My mind is quiet.

Nodding, I suckle gently as an answer.

“Yeah, we needed to get you out of your head before we tried this next thing. Up.” He taps my jaw lightly in encouragement, then lifts me straight off of the floor without putting his cock away to carry me to his room.

I watch his eyes as he lays me down and undresses me, noting the intense way he stares at each piece of skin he exposes. Once I’m naked, he stands up straighter and tosses his shirt aside, then spreads my legs open before he grips the base of his cock to stroke it. “Touch yourself.”

His gaze is locked on my pussy, making me curious as hell as I reach down to toy with myself. “What are we doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like. I’m going to watch you make yourself come, and then I’m going to cover those perky tits with mine. I need to see how you look painted with cum.”

He twists his hand around the crown and then meets my eyes, challenging me.

“Rude,” I whisper, dropping my gaze to his cock as I pinch my clit between my fingers. If I wanted to play with myself, I wouldn’t have bothered involving my worst nightmare. “Just rude.”

“Rude?” He tilts his head. “What’s so rude about wanting to watch you come?”

I’m getting dangerously close to arguing with him, and I’ve been doing so well.

“Nothing,” I lie, dipping my middle finger inside myself to get it wet. “I’m sorry.”

He lets it go. It’s not something he usually does, but he treats me differently in this setting. “You think you’re ready to take my cock, don’t you?”

His free hand grips my thigh and squeezes, his other stroking himself a little faster.

Just seeing him like this feels wrong, but so, so fucking hot.

“I am. I’ve been ready,” I rush out. “Don’t you want it?”

“More than you know,” he admits with a growl. “But I’m going to show you every single thing I can while you’re mine.”

His .

That was never the deal, not even temporarily. I wasn’t supposed to be his. He was supposed to teach me, show me what to do. I was supposed to obey him, respect him. Be good for him.

I never agreed to be his .

So why do I feel like I am?

It jars me enough that I almost say that one little word to end it all. Frost. It would be better for both of us if I did. Safer, too.

But my fingers are still moving, his hand is still burning a hole in my thigh, and I still want to know what it feels like to be covered in cum.

I’ll save that little word for a different day.

“If I’m yours,” I say instead, “then prove it. Mark me.”

“Oh, I fucking will. Come for me. Earn it.”

He leans in to suck a mark on my inner thigh, arm still moving. It makes me wonder what his tongue would feel like instead of my fingers, what it would look like to have the man who tormented me licking my pussy instead.

Yeah, I can work with that fantasy.

“Fuck,” I moan, head tipping back as I roll my hips up, keeping the pressure on my clit perfect. “Please don’t move. I—”

Would he fall asleep with the taste of me all over his lips, his best friend’s little sister? Would he fantasize about doing it again? Burying his face between my thighs until I’m crying with pleasure, screaming his name?

There it is .

My body shudders as the orgasm floods through me, his growl traveling up my spine as he sits up to watch me.

“Say my name.”

Fuck me running. “Hayes.”

“Fuck.” Hearing him moan is a special kind of torture. “More.”

This time, his tongue swipes up my pussy exactly where I want it. It’s somehow hot and cold at the same time, jarring and completely overwhelming — but he looks exactly as good down there as I thought he would.

“Hayes fucking Sarro,” I gasp, stomach tensing as I lean up to get a better look. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

A finger toys at my entrance teasingly as he sucks my clit into his mouth, a groan leaving him like he enjoys the way I taste.

I wonder if this is as weird for him as it is for me.

My brain seems to glitch every time his eyes flick up to mine, reminding me exactly who it is that has his tongue on my cunt. It’s fucking surreal. “You agreed to this way easier than I thought you would,” I whisper through heavy breaths. “Did you want me, Hayes? Did you fall asleep wondering what I’d taste like? ”

The noise he releases sounds almost angry at how spot on I am, but I don’t believe he’ll admit it. His mouth is too busy anyway.

When he moves both of his hands to grip my ass, he squeezes almost too roughly, sending two radiating streaks of pain up my back that only seem to make me wetter. It pushes me over the line from okay to desperate. “Oh god,” I mumble, letting my head fall back again as I roll my hips to ride his face, and it’s enough.

I think I stop breathing as this orgasm traps me, his growls turning pleased with the mess he’s making of me. Once he’s done licking me through it he sits up and slaps down on my clit hard enough to make me gasp. “Why the fuck do you taste so good? Don’t fucking move.”

His fist finds his cock and he begins stroking himself feverishly. The sight makes my toes curl.

“What’s the matter, Hayes?” I ask, leaning up to spit on his cock then laying back down. “Mad none of your whores taste this good?”

Watching him smear my spit around the head of his cock has my hips lifting in desperation even though I know he isn’t going to fuck me. “I wouldn’t know,” he rushes out. “I don’t eat whores’ pussies, Hurricane. Gonna paint your beautiful skin with my cum and mark what’s mine. Say my name.”

No. He’s not giving me what I want, so for once, I’m not giving him what he wants. “Bastard.”

His eyes snap to mine. “How many nights did you lie awake wishing you could kill me? How many times did you use my name as a curse, or utter it through gritted teeth? And now you can’t come without me, can you? You’re so twisted up for the man you claim to hate that you’d choke to death on my cock if I’d let you. Say. My. Name.”

He really is a fucking bastard. The humor drains from my face, and while I want to tell him he’s wrong and I’m not twisted up about him at all, I remember what he said. If I don’t play along, he’ll quit — and he hasn’t taught me the one fucking thing I actually need to know yet. “Hayes,” I say firmly. “You’re Hayes fucking Sarro.”

“Good... good girl. Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

His left hand reaches out to squeeze my breast as he releases, ropes of hot, wet cum painting my stomach and pussy, marking me his .

Clearly, I’ve been playing along a little too well. I should remind him who he’s dealing with.

“Are you this possessive of your whores?” I ask. “Or is it just me?”

Chuckling, he reaches out to swipe some up off my belly button and holds it up to my mouth. “So concerned with what other girls I’m fucking, huh? What if I told you I didn’t have whores?”

“I’d call you a liar, because that’s what you’d be.”

“Mmmhm. Suck.”

He pushes his fingers between my lips, making my eyebrows pinch together. The dick really isn’t giving me much to work with here.

Still, I clean his fingers off and do it again when he feeds me more. “So what did this teach me? Patience?”

“You’d think, but I can see we still have work to do there.” This time when he reaches down to play with his cum, he doesn’t bring his hand up to my mouth. Instead, he rolls his wet fingers along my swollen clit. “You’d be learning a lot more if you got out of your own head. Patience... skills... what makes a man tick. You’re doing well with dirty talk and allowing yourself the freedom to come, but you’re so fucking hung up on when I’m going to actually fuck you you’re not letting yourself enjoy the ride. It’s not all about the destination, Samara.”

Yeah, I still hate him.

My cheeks burn as I fight the urge to push his hand away. It’s easy for him to say when he gets laid whenever the fuck he wants — hell, I don’t know where he goes when he’s not here — but for me? It’s been a constant thing in the back of my mind. I’ve watched all my former classmates and friends brag about their conquests and judge me for never getting any, I’ve had my truck tagged, threats made against me. So yeah, on top of just being horny, I want to get it over with. I don’t want to be a fucking virgin anymore.

But if this is how he’s going to look at it, then fine. I don’t want to wake up in ten years and have to remember that I gave all my firsts to someone as vile as Hayes, so maybe I can learn just enough that I’ll be able to wing it with Nate as long as I don’t bleed.

“Trust me, it won’t happen again,” I say quietly .

“And now you’re shutting down,” he says with a sigh. “What’d I say about getting out of your head, girl?”

Apparently I’m not allowed to have any feelings at all.

That’s easy enough.

“I’m fucking sticky, are we done?”

The disappointment in his eyes as he stands says more than his mouth ever will, and without a word he moves to grab a washcloth to wipe up some of his cum. But he doesn’t actually clean me. I still feel how sticky I am everywhere it landed when he steps away. “Don’t shower. I want to smell me on you, and if you can get out of that pretty head and obey me... I’ll fuck you.”

Something tells me it’s a power trip thing for him. He doesn’t give a shit how I smell, he just wants to prove he can keep me miserable even when he’s bringing me pleasure.

But he said the magic words. Maybe this is almost over. “You’ve known me my entire life. I’ll never get out of my own head, but I will do better at hiding it. Deal?”

Rolling his eyes, Hayes tucks himself away. “I’ve gotten you there, you just fight it the second you feel vulnerable. ”

“Maybe that’s because you’ve picked at every insecurity I’ve ever had, poured gasoline on them and lit them on fire. I’m doing my best.”

“Okay,” he whispers a little impatiently. “If you’re doing your best then I appreciate that, and it’s my fault for expecting something that isn’t possible.”

Because my best won’t ever be good enough.

I think that would hurt if I were actually allowed to have feelings. Good thing I’m not. “You’re right. But remember that in the end, it’s not your expectations I need to live up to. It’s Nate’s. So maybe don’t look at me like you’re disappointed in me and I’ll try a little harder to at least make this worth it for you.”

Frowning, he bites his lip like he’s holding back an argument I don’t have the energy to have. “Let me ask you something I should have asked before. What do you think he means when he says he doesn’t have the time to train you?”

“He means he doesn’t want some meek little virgin who just lays there or cries when it gets rough,” I explain. “He says he really likes me and that’s the only thing stopping him. Before you get all weird on me about that, let me just say I don’t care. I’ll probably never love him anyway. I just want out.”

He nods at me absentmindedly, staring straight through me as my words sink in, and then he finally speaks up. “Alright. And you’re still convinced this is the only way to get out?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” I ask. “Show me one place hiring someone with no experience right now and I’ll work for it.” He can’t, and he knows it. Cape Frost is a dead town full of dead people and dead dreams. “But I’m all ears if you have an idea.”

“Work for me,” he offers, leaving me speechless. “Do my scheduling and I’ll give you a cut. I don’t fucking care what you do, just don’t stand there like you’ve actually tried to find another option.” He looks me up and down. “Hell, I’d pay you to be my little whore if you asked.”

I can’t imagine the first option would give me enough to get out, but it would at least be something. And the second? The whole reason I don’t have a job right now is because I don’t want to be a sex worker.

Beggars can’t be choosers, but I don’t know if I could ever work for Hayes .

“You’d pay me to be your little whore even after admitting you know my best would never be good enough for you?” I ask. “Why?”

“To help you. I don’t know.” He looks almost annoyed, but I don’t know if he’s mad at me or himself. “I’m training you, aren’t I? Who’s to say I wouldn’t be able to train you to be exactly what I need?”

What he needs. Not what another man may need.

“And then what, I’d stay here?” I say softly. “In Cape Frost?”

Forever.

“No. You’ve made up your mind there, Samara. I have no doubts you’ll leave this place behind one day, but how about you stop overthinking every little thing today, hmm? Think of it as a simple transaction. A fucking dumb one on my side since you’re already giving me all of this for free, but one I’m willing to offer so you can have some income. You can say thank you later.”

Yeah, it’s dumb. Which is why it makes no sense unless he’s trying to push me out the door faster.

I’m actually okay with that.

“So nothing would change?” I ask. “You don’t expect anything extra?”

“Not at the moment.” He stands up straighter and crosses his arms. “You listen to what I say even if you’re mad about it in the moment, so I can’t really ask for anything else unless you start to disobey.”

This somehow sounds like a trap. It’s straightforward enough coming out of his mouth, but this is Hayes. Devious, cunning, vile Hayes.

He’ll find a way.

But if I can stash some cash while he teaches me and still end up hooking Nate, it’s a win/win for me. I like those.

“Okay,” I agree. “You’ve got a deal, Hayes. From sun down to sun up.”

Something tells me I’m gonna regret that.