No Deal-A threesome teenage erotica series

Unexpected House Guest

There are 1..2..3..4..5 stains on my carpet from God knows what over the years.

1..2..3..4. Legs on the table in the middle of the room

There are 1..2..3 candles on my table illuminating the space of my living room in a soft, warm glow. I watch the flames dance to music only they can hear.

1...2 feet propped up on the table, attempting to sit back and relax, and slow my racing mind

1... one super f****d me.

I've been staring at the stains, the flecks of color around the room, and the flames for 5 hours now. Replaying that conversation in my head, over and over, to the point where I feel like I have become certifiable.

It is sometime around 2 am, and I haven't slept a wink.

My thoughts have been completely overwhelmed by the events of today.

Or yesterday...

I'm unsure whether my actions were for the better or not.

I thought I was being proactive about my future this morning…I was... that was my intention when I made my deals with my new ...acquaintances…

I wanted to be prepared for what was to come. Little did I know it would snowball into me working for the goons who had entrapped me in this life in the first place.

Actually, that's not true; John did that. John messed up and then screwed me over… I want nothing more than to scream at the top of my lungs and cuss to the world about how much it sucks. But that won't make it any better, and, in the end, I'm still screwed. No need to hurt my throat in the process.

I finally decided that, as dangerous as my situation has become, I am better off knowing how dire my situation is. If I hadn't done what I did, and if events hadn't worked out the way they did, I would never have known I was set to become a call-girl against my will. At least not until it would be too late to change my fate. Now, I have a chance to help myself.

I faintly hear a Bing on my phone and ignore it. I sent Zane a message to tell him I was home, then set it down next to me where neither of us had moved. It has been binging every 15 or 20 minutes ever since I got home.

Just as my mind starts to wander off again into the slowly sinking ship of chaos that is my sad, sorry, pathetic excuse of a life, my phone makes a new noise. A noise I haven't heard before. It's sort of a harp and drum combo that is soothing yet exciting. It's not stopping. I turn to look at the device to see why it is making this never-ending tune. Reading ‘Shadow’ on the screen, I finally jump out of my stupor enough to realize I have a phone call.

Is he calling me? My Shadow is calling me! I almost dropped the phone in my haste to pick it up and answer. My heart is about to pump out of my chest. I'm excited, worried, and most of all, nervous, but mostly excited. Holding the phone to my ear, I wait for him to speak, but when I hear nothing, not even anyone breathing on the line, panic flares up in my head, screaming for me to do something, say something.

“Hello?... Shadow?” Silence still

“Blow the candles out; I'm coming in.” This is the first and only thing he says before he hangs up.

He's what? But why do I have to blow the candles out if he is coming in?

I don't let myself think too much about it. This is my chance to speak with Shadow in person. He only wants to make sure I can't see him, right? I bend over to blow out the candles, then sit back down on the couch. He said he would only do this if I answered his question last night, but something has changed. I'm twitching with excitement; the room is completely black. I can't sit still. I almost pick up the phone to call him to tell him to hurry up when I hear it. The front door opened.

A small shiver of fear alerts me in the back of my mind. This could go terribly, horribly wrong. Just like the rest of today. He could be a murderer, a rapist, or both. I don't know this person. I like to think I do, but I don't. My senses are screaming at me; I feel as though I'm one second from jumping out of my skin!

Words completely escape me as I wait for his next move. The slow, steady rhythm of his shoes hitting the floor offsets the offbeat of my racing heart. His walk is sure, set to a destination…me. I try to take a breath, but it comes in and out shaky, like when I used to get my asthma attacks. Once he stops in front of me, I get a hard hit of his cologne. It smells familiar. Like I know it. Like I've been this close to him before.

"Amity?" His voice is just as I imagined it—deep, but soft and lustful. The voice of a man sure of himself in every way. The way he says my name sends chills over my flesh. Please say it again… "Are you OK?" He's worried about me, but why? Does he somehow know what happened tonight? "Amity, please speak Love."

"I—I... I'm not sure what to say." A heavy breath is released from him, and I can feel the tension in the room slowly melt away. His need for me to speak was causing him so much worry that it made the room hard to breathe. Shadow takes a seat at the other end of the couch, making it dip into his weight. He must be tall or maybe just a heavy-set kind of guy. I want to know what he looks like. Just to have an idea…

"Anything you want."

I want to ask him so many questions, so many things I've wanted to say for so long, yet none seem important right now. I want to unload my day. I almost need to talk about today; otherwise, I will explode.

"Today was bad… I made a mistake. A few, actually. People are going to come for me, if not today, soon. I don't know what I'm going to do. The people I made deals with have secrets. Their families own my secrets. I can't escape them. They want me to pay for sins that are not mine." I start to cry a little, and my voice breaks.

"What deals did you make?" His voice... I know it, but from where?

"I need help to get a job once school is over. I needed clothes, references, and a way to protect myself. I made deals with them to get those things. But now the people they know want me to do more than I bargained for."

"Who?"

"These boys at school. They are like a gang or something, the four of them. Mafia wannabes in training. They are known for trouble at South Brooke High, but I thought I was smart enough. I thought I would be able to control the narrative at least until I got what I needed from the deal, and then be done with it. I only made a deal with three of them. I only now realize how stupid it would have been for me to ask anything from the fourth."

"Why is that?" He asks me very carefully.

"Because he hates me, always has, I suppose. Now he's helping people who want to hurt me. I have barely even spoken to the guy, and he looks at me like I'm evil incarnate."

"I'm sure that isn't true. How could anyone hate you?"

A warm hand slides over my cheek, into my hair, cupping the back of my head. He works his fingers into my hair just to move his large hand down my arm. I feel a small tinge of pain as he lightly grazes where Brendon grabbed me earlier, but I ignore it. Making sure not to flinch. He holds my hand, palm up, drawing lazy circles around and around. An electric pulse zips through my body, igniting every inch of me, settling deep into my lower region. I feel a strange sensation starting to work through my private parts. It feels slick and sensitive. He's only ever touched me once, and my body has awakened into the horny teenager I am supposed to be. This is the power my Shadow has over me.

"That feels amazing." My voice is a whisper into the dark silence.

My Shadow takes a deep breath, releasing it with a shaking shudder. "I've wanted to touch you for so long; …you should stop me."

Stop him? No… I don't want him to stop; I want more. "I don't want you to stop."

"You should." It sounds like his jaw is clenched.

"Why?"

"I can't tell you..." Something in me flares to life when I hear the pain in his voice. As if it is physically painful for him not to tell me everything.

"Can I touch you?"

"What?" His voice is pained or panicked or both. I'm not sure.

"I—not like that! I mean—I—never mind, I'm sorry." I feel awkward asking now; what a stupid question. Why do you have to be such a freak, Amity!?

"Don't be sorry; I just wasn't expecting you to ask that." I see a small shadow of movement, as if he just ran his fingers through his hair. I think it could be blond, but it is near pitch black in here. The blackout curtains are blocking almost all the moonlight coming through the window.

"I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry. I just—I wanted to touch you too, like, to get an idea of what you might look like... It’s stupid, I'm sorry." I fold into myself

He chuckles, then takes both of my hands in his, resting our joined hands on his lap. "You apologize too much. Okay, go for it."

"Go for it?"

"Touch me."

I work my way up his arms, feeling all the rolls and waves of muscle he has under what feels like a sweatshirt. I move up, up, up to feel broad shoulders. A frenzy takes over me as I explore. It's as if I have left all traces of the shy girl I am behind. He gave me the green light, and I am fully determined to get my fill of my Shadow while I can. He is tall, so I have to lean forward on my knees to reach him. My knees press into the couch mattress, brushing his leg. I slowly touch his face; his skin is smooth with a small amount of scruff from his facial hair coming through. His features are sharp and defined. High cheekbones and a sharp jawline, and his lips seem soft but not very full or plump. Thick eyebrows are shaped over long lashes. I realize too late that I am touching his eyes and lips; this must be so weird for him, so I move on. I push my fingers through his soft hair. It's thick but long enough for me to run my fingers through it. So soft! My nails lightly scrape against his scalp. He makes a small grunting noise.

"Is this OK?"

"Yes," his voice breaks, and he seems tense.

"Are you sure?"

"...Nope..." I feel his hands shaking in his lap. A small part of me is happy that he is nervous, too.

"Can I take your sweatshirt off?"

"Off?" He asks, alarmed.

"So, I can feel your arms; this material is thick." I lightly tug on the thick hoodie.

He is silent for so long that I don't think he's ever going to answer.

"..okay.."

I move my hands down to the bottom of his hoodie, slowly lifting the material. I get stuck on his shoulders since they are so wide. He thankfully chuckles and helps me out. I like his laugh. I decided here, and now I want to hear this laugh every day for the rest of my life.

Reaching forward, I find the middle of his torso. My fingers can feel his pecs through the thin material of his shirt. His biceps, even his forearms, are muscular. Gosh, does he live at the gym when he isn't stalking me?

"Wow"

"Is that a good 'wow' or bad?" His honest curiosity is adorable.

"How would wow be bad?" I laugh.

"Wow, this guy feels like he would be very unattractive."

I can't help but laugh a little. I don't answer him; I just keep exploring. My curiosity is getting the better of me. I wonder what his skin feels like under this shirt. I pause for only a split second before I let my hands slide up into the underside of his shirt. Feeling the hard pull of his abs tighten against my touch. He takes deep, slow breaths. Is he controlling his breathing? It seems slower than it was a moment ago.

I go to move away, ready to apologize again for my over-curious mind, but he catches me by the waist. Pushing me back, making me fall on the couch. It bounces as his weight presses on top of me.

"D—did I do something?" Ohh no, I overstepped; I made him angry...

"I'm trying very hard to hold myself back, Love. Distract me…please." He runs his nose along the length of my neck to my jaw.

"H—Hold yourself back from what?" Oh s**t, he is a murderer. I angered him, and he is going to kill me!

"f*****g Christ! You drive me crazy, and you don't even know you're doing it. To feel you touch me like that…makes me want things I shouldn't want." He is so close to my face that his minty breath fans my face.

Fear and excitement blur into one big adrenaline-fused moment. I don't know if I want him to kiss me or if I want to scream in fear.

"W—what do you want?"

He starts laughing, a laugh that screams mental torture. "You can't ask me that."

"Why not?"

His woodsy pine cologne invades my senses. I feel his lips barely graze mine. Ohh, my God! The wetness between my legs has intensified to a full-blown waterfall. I need to feel friction there like I need air. Speaking of, I need to breathe. I seem to have completely forgotten how at some point during this encounter.

"Damn, you smell good, like vanilla and fresh rainfall...stop me.” He almost begs me to stop him, but I don't say a word. I don't want him to stop. Just as his lips start to press against mine, word vomit pours out of my mouth before I even know what I'm saying.

"Z-Zane kissed me." And just like that, I destroyed the moment. I feel him pull back away from me. I guess that worked.

"...Zane?"

"He's one of the guys I made a deal with today… I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way; I just. I guess I felt like I should tell you since it happened only 6 hours ago."

"Are you actually dating?" he practically growls at me.

"That's, ahh, a long story; it's, ahh, it's complicated. He's just helping me, it's — it's part of the deal."

"Did you like it? The kiss." I never knew the word "kiss" could sound so much like a curse.

"I... I mean... I don't have anything to compare it to. And it was in front of people...in public."

"Did you like it?" He sounds upset that I brought this up. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I take a moment to relive Zane kissing me again for the hundredth time tonight.

"I-I don't know. I got this feeling in my gut. Like a hive of bees buzzing around, trying to get out."

"I see."

"How is it supposed to feel?" I need to know if what I felt was normal or not.

"How did it feel with other guys?" he says it so flippantly. Because, of course, he would assume there were other guys. What 17-year-old has never been so much as kissed before in these times when s*x is literally everywhere we look?

I wish I didn't have to explain this to him. Granted, I kind of brought this on myself by spewing out stuff I should have kept to myself. "There were no other guys."

"No other guys... that was your first kiss?" Gosh! I'm so glad he can't see the horrible blush plastered on my face right now. But the silence speaks volumes. "f**k it!"

Before I know what's happening, Shadow's lips work magic on my soul. The second his hands grip my face to pull me into his embrace, electric waves of hot, hot bliss burn down from my blushing face to my aching center. A pulse, deep inside me, screaming for me to go further, to crave the unthinkable with a man I have only just met. Not even truly met. He is a stranger, a stranger I feel more for than I ever thought possible. A stranger who seems to push and pull all the right lines to make my body want him in a way I have never wanted anyone. My body knows what it wants. Him, now...

I kiss him back with as much passion as he is cocooning me with. Nipping at his lower lip when it pushes against mine. I don't know what I'm doing, but, wow, this feels good. He rewards me by groaning into my mouth, asking for more, pressing closer to me, his weight now pressing against the spot I want him the most. A primal need takes over me as I start to move against him. Almost as soon as I move my hips to press against him, I feel a hard object pressing against me. Getting harder and harder. A small voice in the back of my head tells me, "This is too fast," while the other voice is saying, "Speed up."