Judd Birch

You Like Huey Lewis and The News?

It's only when you have a moment alone that you realize you never discussed Halloween. Before your mind can properly catch up, you've already called his name.

He doesn't respond other than opening the bathroom door, busy brushing his teeth and staring at the cut on his lip from the fight at school that's finally begun to scar over.

Your feet mindlessly take you to the bathroom, shucking off your sweatshirt and leaning against the doorframe.

"What?" He asks, finding you staring like you tend to do, and spitting in the sink.

"I didn't mean what I said." You finally admit.

He knows exactly what you're talking about and, despite how emotionless he typically looks, you can tell that this flavor of emotionless means he doesn't want to talk about it.

He drops his stare, unfastening his jeans and dropping them to the ground.

"If you were anyone else," He starts, leaning over to start the shower. "I wouldn't be so nice to you."

"This is nice?" You tease, folding your arms beneath your chest with a playful smirk.

He looks over his shoulder, eyes heavy with something domineering, something dark and possessive. With two strides forward, his hand is at your throat, leaning down to bite at the flesh of your cheek and jaw.

"You like it. You love being a little brat."
A low sound escapes him as he pulls back, briefly admiring your awestruck expression before his lips graze over yours.
"And you love how I treat you."

He finally pulls away, leaving your knees weak and mind empty, save for the thoughts of him. He strips himself of his boxers and black shirt and steps under the water, almost entirely hidden by the clouded glass.

You feel as if you've been rooted into the ground, stuck under some spell as you watch him.

"Are you gonna join me or stand there like a fucking idiot?"

You finally exhale the breath you've been holding for what feels like the last hour and begin to weigh your options.

You could please him, have the best sex of your entire life, do what both of you have been waiting for since you first met- or you could feed his wanton rage. He said you were a brat, so why not accept the title.

"You're funny." You say in a feigned light-hearted tone and step out, shutting the door to the bathroom to give yourself some privacy while you catch your breath.

If it weren't for the patter of the running water, you'd hear Judd spit a few curses. He braces a hand on the tile wall while the other weaves back his black hair. He had thought you'd obey his offer, but the rage and annoyance he feels quickly contorts into something of pure, unadulterated lust. The way you pull him back and forth and keep him on his toes makes his head reel and blood rush.

He was telling the truth- that if it were anyone else playing the games you do, he wouldn't be so nice, wouldn't play the game with them. There is something about you that keeps him yearning for more.

You are his drug.

While he showers you strip yourself of your sweats and tank top, leaving you in only your black bra and thong.

You lay back against the plush bed, a thin sheet thrown over your body as your mind wanders back to him.

"Did you see that dick?" Connie startles you, appearing laying at your side with her head propped in her hand.

You gives a breathless nod, lips pulled in a weak smirk as your stare mindlessly at the ceiling.

"Then why the fuck did you leave?"
The monstress sits up, voice much more stern. "Are you stupid? Did you hit your head, baby- cause no sane fuckin' person would walk away from that."