27| Nyx

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Edited.

Edited

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"Fucking ow," I buzzed when my elbow banged into the tinted window and my frown intensified when Beckham laughed. "You asshole." Just as I went to protest again, his mouth capped mine as he dragged me closer. I slanted into his embrace, coiling my arms around his neck, making sure to not thump my elbow into the window again. It ached like a bitch and I didn't want to go through it again.


Beckham groaned, hands clutching my hips and moving me against him. I dragged myself over his lap, revelling in the loud moan that left his lips. Kissing was always satisfying for me. I'd kissed many people in the past. But kissing Beckham was completely different, solely because of the way his kisses made me feel.


Detaching his mouth from mine, he moved his lips down my neck, and I inclined back as he suckled on the exposed skin above my bra. And then my back knocked on the car horn. The earsplitting honk carried through the campus parking lot, causing me to shriek in surprise. Beckham was laughing again.


Cussing him out, I pulled my sweater right and opened the door, nearly falling off his lap. I snubbed him as I climbed out of the car, tottering on my white sneakers and trying to steady myself. Beckham had a way of making me woozy. "Where are you going?" he urged, still chuckling and shutting the door behind him, locking the car. When he messaged to meet at his car during lunch, I'd gotten excited because I had some tension I desperately needed to release. However, that was far from Beckham's mind. Apparently, he wanted to talk.


We hadn't done so since a few nights ago when it was Indigo's recital. We were both occupied, well; I was. Benson mailed me a list of potential fundraisers and I had to sift through all of them, finding ways that it could profit both the team and the community. Beckham and his team still had this week off. Being busy helped me evade the talk we needed to have, because it terrified me. And I had a feeling Beckham knew that, which was why he let me climb into his lap so we could make out. It irked me that he was so fucking understanding. As much as I was annoyed, I needed his comfort, the sanctuary that he provided.


My dad had pulled up last night, completely pissed off. The girls had gone to bed and Annie was cleaning the kitchen. I hadn't seen him for a few days because whenever he showed up; I wasn't there, conveniently. It had been a while since I last pissed him off and Annie mentioned that he hadn't raised a hand to them either. We assumed things with his other family were going well. But then last night happened.


I'd forgotten what he looked like when he got that mad. It was like being in the presence of a demon, sucking all life from the room. His words were pure malignity and his fingers coated with destruction as he lunged for me, yanking my hair and flinging me into the wall.

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