I sit the fuck up, dick still out and everything. Because I do know those blue-green doe eyes. Normally they’re sweeping over me with sharp sparks of scorn when I tease her about the frumpy ass sweaters she wraps herself in. Not just scorn, but judgment, just like her nosy bitch of a mother.
“Well, shit.” I drag the word out, followed by a short laugh of disbelief as I stare at the girl I’ve only ever known as my nerdy neighbor, Thea Kennedy.
A shy girl at school I love to torment just to watch her blush.
The same sexy as fuck little minx I just had an awesome sext jerk off session with.
I trace a finger over my lips and glance at my window. Her bedroom faces mine. I’ve caught her peeking once or twice while I changed, thinking those sheer curtains hide her. Might’ve even put on a bit of a show for her once I knew she liked to watch. Blinds are for pussies.
Who knew under those lumpy, shapeless sweaters in every color of the rainbow, she hides a body like that, with those luscious, seductive curves? It really is the quiet ones that are the biggest surprise.
I scroll back through our messages to admire the nudes and smirk. Her voice recording is still there, because she’s a naïve thing that doesn’t have them set to expire after listening. How cute. Between the photos and the recording, I could have an entire field day blackmailing her to do whatever I wanted.
The way she responded to me, obeyed me, makes it a strong temptation. My best friend Devlin would probably do it in a heartbeat, but he’s a dark and twisted fucker. I maintain a rep that I could implode lives on a whim, when really I prefer to have a reason to destroy someone with the dirt I keep on people.
As I press the replay button, her breathless voice fills my room again.
“Wyatt,” Thea whimpers, innocent and sinful all at once. Her soft tone stirs my cock for another round. “Feels so good. I’m close.”
It had thrown me the first time I heard it, long enough to stop stroking my dick. She’d called out another man’s name and a righteous bout of jealousy surged through me. I’d never been possessive over my hookups, but something about her in that moment made me want to hear my name falling from those plump pink glossy lips before she came.
Now things click into place with the blood flow returning to my brain. This is all a case of mistaken identity. She texted the wrong number. Whoever this Wyatt guy is, he’s not me. And if I have anything to say about it, he won’t ever get to hear Thea moaning his name like that.
The games I play with her at school are out of petty boredom. I need more of this side of Thea. Things just got a lot more interesting.
The next time she makes those sounds, it’ll be because I drew them out of her.
My mouth curves in a mean smirk. I bet it will piss off her neighborhood busybody mother if she ever finds out her shy, mousy little daughter is naughty under those good grades and oversized granny sweaters. It’s time for some revenge for what that woman did, sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.
If I’m going to do this, I have to be strategic. I can’t reveal myself yet. It will end this game too soon. Thea is the shy type who likes to get freaky in secret. She’ll piss her pants and take off running if I come at this too hard.
No, I have to take it slow and steady. Figure out my play and the next three possible moves ahead to find the right moment to unveil that it’s been me all along.
For now, I save her number to my phone and take care of the dirty tissues I dumped on the floor after cleaning myself up.
Thea doesn’t know it yet, but with one racy selfie, she stepped into my world.
Five
Connor
By the next week, I’ve settled into a new routine. Wake up, text the little mouse that lives next door, take care of my morning wood with help from photos of Thea’s sleepy eyes sparkling with mischief, shower for school, text her again—and so on throughout the day until I’m coming before bed to the image of Thea’s perfect tits. The best part of the game is passing Thea in the halls or in classes we share, completely unaware I know how she sounds when she’s about to come.
I’ve been keeping up the pretense that I’m this Wyatt guy she believes she’s messaging.
On Tuesday, the soccer team has a practice scrimmage after school. Half of us play positions to cover one team, and the rest play against us. We’re tied 1-1, but we’re coming up on the end of the game.
There’s nothing like the feeling of driving the ball toward the goal, the sweet grass-scented breeze in your hair, every nerve ending fizzling with energy. I love playing soccer. Always have, since my dad first put a ball in front of me.
My boy Devlin only has his head half in the game. I’ve pulled him up on it as captain once, but he keeps watching the girls track team. More specifically, the school’s charity case sitting nearby like she’s being subtle. Devlin got her kicked off the team because she pissed him off. Those two are bound to be fucking by the end of the year if they aren’t yet.
“Dev!” I shout, dribbling the ball while avoiding two mid-fielders. “You better quit making moon eyes at Davis when I make this pass.”
I check my periphery for him. One guy playing against us tries to break my footwork, but Devlin appears out of nowhere, like the lightning-quick devil I know, and picks up the pass I send him.
Satisfied laughter bubbles from my chest as Devlin’s attack turns merciless, whipping past the other team’s defenders and punting the ball with insane speed. It’s how he got his nickname, the dark devil of Silver Lake. Together we’re an unstoppable pair. The ball becomes a blur, cutting through the air and sailing past their goalie’s outstretched hands as he dives for the save.
Devlin turns back to me, a sharp, wicked smirk in place. He jogs to my side at a lazy pace. I shake my head, grinning at my best friend. He’s an asshole, but I love him. We get each other in a way the rest of the superficial idiots at this school don’t.
“We could’ve cinched that goal faster if you hadn’t been all goo-goo eyes for Davis. I told you last year, bro, you’ve got to just do her already, get your obsession out of your system.” I hook an arm around Devlin’s neck and rub my knuckles into his scalp. “Watching you two eye-fuck at lunch is not on my agenda for a second year in a row.”
“Fuck off.” Devlin shrugs my arm off. “I wouldn’t touch Davis’ cunt if it were the last one in the world.”
I bark out another laugh. “Even you don’t have that much self control. Pussy is pussy. You’d cave eventually.”
Devlin rolls his eyes. “Whatever, prick. If you’re so sure, you go fuck her.”
“Nah. You called dibs last year.” I hold up three fingers in a Boy Scout salute and solemnly intone, “Bro code is sacred.”
I get smacked upside the head for being a good friend. Dick.
“All right, guys,” I call. Sticking my fingers in my mouth, I whistle for the team to circle up on center field. They hustle over, wiping sweat from their brows with their practice jerseys. “Trent, you need to dig harder when the ball comes to our backs. Don’t slack because it’s practice, you lazy shit. Bad habits in practice make for bad habits in real games.”
Trent snorts and flips me off while Sean, our other center-back, shoves him with a smirk.