The Lies we Steal (The Hollow Boys Book 1)

Briar

The next several minutes of my life go by in a blur of hasty decisions. Moments ago I’d witnessed Alistair almost combust from the video we’d both watched. My stomach was queasy just thinking about it. 

It made me nauseous to think he’d hugged Lyra, how sorry she’d felt for him when in reality he’d done all of this to himself. The reason he’d lost a daughter to death and drove his other one to the brink of self-insanity. 

Yet even in my state of utter shock, I couldn’t quit follow Alistair. The way he paced a hole in the floor, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His blood was pumping so strong that the veins in his forearms were thick vines asphyxiating a tree. 

There were links in my head chaining together. I pieced the narrative in my head, weaving all the parts I’d witnessed and what I’d heard. It all finally coming together to make one shocking image. 

They weren’t just killing people for the hell of it. They weren’t murdering teachers and abducting girls because they could, they were doing it so they could figure out what happened to Rosemary. 

I saw the way his black eyes fragmented, cracking like the earth above lava. The glow from the magma below blazed through the obscurity when he listened to Frank give up his daughter like she was some pig for sale. 

It had evoked this real, raw, vulnerability I’d never seen on his face before. Even if he tried to mask it with anger and wrath. I could still feel his hurt as he stared at that screen. 

Rose had been important to him. 

And she’d been taken away. 

I of all people should know what happens when you take something from Alistair Caldwell, it almost always doesn’t end well. 

I thought he would have time to cool down before we headed back downstairs. I was going to give him space, let him punch something, but we didn’t even get out of the office. 

We had been so absorbed with the video that neither of us heard our phones buzzing in our pockets until it was too late. 

Lyra had blown my phone up with texts and calls, all of them reading the same thing, “Get the hell out of that office.” Greg was on his way from the party, and by the time we had read the messages, he was already messing with the doorknob. 

My heart dropped to my feet as we rushed to shove everything back into the safe, shutting it as quietly and quickly as possible. My wild eyes searched for places to hide, the sound of the lock wiggling making a trail of sweat race down my back. 

We were screwed. 

Until Alistair palmed my elbow, jerking me into the closet across the room. He shut the door, the plantation shutter door allowing us to see bits and pieces of what was happening outside. 

I couldn’t breathe, I felt weak and lightheaded as I rested my hands against the tight walls, my back cemented to Alistair’s chest as we waited with charged pants. I was frozen as I watched Mr. West waltz into his office. 

His expensive shoes floated across the carpet as he made his way around to his desk. I could feel the fury sweeping off Alistair’s chest, his heart beating vigorously against my spine. 

He wanted to do something stupid. His anger getting the best of him at the moment. The man who’d made a deal that ended his friend’s life was only a few feet away and I was nothing but a toothpick holding the dam back. 

I felt him shift his weight and I panicked. 

My hand darted down to his, wrapping around his long fingers like a child seeking solace. I folded my hand around him, clutching harshly. I wasn’t doing it to protect him, I was doing it to protect myself. 

If he busted out of here we were both fucked and I wasn’t going down with him. As much as I hated it, we were in this position together. 

Greg fiddled with his computer, sitting in his chair and making himself comfortable. I had no idea how long he’d be there and I didn’t know if I could stand here forever. 

I shut my eyes, pinching them as I tried to imagine anywhere else instead of this claustrophobic room with the one man on earth I couldn’t stand. My breaths came out erratic and it felt like there was nothing I could do to calm my galloping heart. 

My brain was submerged with distress signals. The ability to process this anxiety was shutting down my system. Everything felt scattered and normal function felt unlikely. 

Just beyond my shut eyes, Alistair let go of my hand and both of his hands come down to my hips stopping there with authority, grounding me to my spot. I felt my breath in my stomach, the collapsing of my rib cage over and over again.

With gentle strokes, he followed the curves of my body like a reserved path. Fingertips ghosting over the material of my dress, all the way to my chest where he paused.

I was cast in a daydream, nothing here felt real. 

Not even when his hands slipping below the fabric, callused palms brushed my tender nipples and it sent tiny bolts of lightning to my center. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should have been furious. I should have stopped him, but it was as if another person had taken over my body. 

An alter-ego had come out to guard me against the terror. 

I tilted my head back onto his shoulder, my nose brushing his razor-sharp jawline and I swore it almost cut me. 

“Can you feel that, Little Thief?” He murmurs, so inaudibly that I thought I might be hallucinating. 

I nod agreeing so that he’ll continue to knead my breasts, maneuvering in small circles, lifting the weight of them up as the pads of his fingers dive firmer into my skin. My daze of warmth began to fizzle out as I heard Mr. West move in his chair, leaning up to type something into the keyboard. 

“It’s called the flood.” My legs twitch at his voice, “That rush of endorphins that’s filling you up. Your brain does that before you’re about to die, so it’ll be less painful. Making you all tipsy and aroused. It’s why you liked being scared. It’s why under it all,” He’s chest resounds, “We are the same.” 

I could feel it. 

This sensation of ecstasy that baptized me from head to toe. Drowning me in need. How alive the stir between my thighs felt. The way it was all elevated because Mr. West was but a few feet away. At any instant he could catch us, his hands assaulting my breast, my back arched into him as I panted like a dog in heat. 

I felt so near to death, yet so fucking alive. 

Swallowing hard as he moved his study south, hands tugging the skirt of my dress up and around my waist, exposing the lacy top of my black thong. I was grateful for the dark color, hoping the arousal already pooled there wasn’t visible to him in the dark. 

“I can smell how wet you are, Briar. Your cunt was needy for me in the pool and she’s needy for me now and I’ve barely even fucking touched you.” He talks to me like I’m in trouble. Speaking down to me, as his palm traced the curve of my ass. 

My body trembled from the feeling, making me shift so that I could feel his cock pushing into me from behind. I could feel my mouth hanging open in silent pleasure, my body betraying all forms of control I’d previously had over myself. 

Yet my lips just wouldn’t give in to him. Not yet. 

“Fuck you, Alistair.” I hiss through barred teeth. 

The way his mouth came down over mine was a rush of flame. A clash of tongues and teeth as we stirred each other. Our lips blending in pursuit of passion and resentment. I wanted to moan how good he tasted, just like dark chocolate. 

Biting my tongue when he latches onto my bottom lip with his white teeth, sucking on it before releasing me. I could taste the blood in my mouth, the metallic edge burning me alive. My fingers grab onto his clothing, unsure if it’s from anger or desire. 

“Stop lying to yourself, it’s getting old.” His tone leaving no room for argument, “You need this. You’ve been craving this.” 

Heartless fingers reached between my legs, slipping across the crease of my pussy making me tremble in his hold. I’d never felt so small, so tiny in his brawny arms. Everything he was sucked me in and refused to let me go. 

I wiggled, chasing the little bits of friction he was delivering. My mouth, my pride would never let me admit it out loud. That he was right. 

That at night when I woke up sweltering, the only way I could get rest was if I placed my fingers between my thighs and let them dance to thoughts of him. That after the night in the pool, I couldn’t come without picturing his face. 

The twinge in my stomach was heavy, but so, so good.

And I wanted it all. 

I looked up at him in this tight space, our lips floating over each other, Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

“Fight me or fuck me, Caldwell. I’m done playing games.” 

I’d deliberately unleashed a furious beast with those words. I’d never felt power like that, it engulfed me whole. Taking all my willpower against him and set it ablaze.  

Two fingers drew patterns at my core, parting my lips and spreading my juices. Lazy, intentional strokes as he explored my sopping cunt. I could hear the faint sounds I made between my thighs as he drags my natural lubricate from clit all the way to the puckered hole closest to him. 

He played with me, teasing me and I could hear his throaty breaths as he watched me. Looking down watching the way my hips grinded on his fingers, chasing that high. 

My hands mounted to the edges of the closet frame, clutching for stability as my body leaned forward. My head barely scraped the door, pieces of flyway hairs seemed to pock through the slits in the entry. My eyes kept surveillance on the teacher that would only have to click the light on in this room to see us beyond the shutters. 

He would see my flushed cheeks and the shine from the liquid that poured between my legs, dripping, racing down to my ankles.

I quivered in Alistair’s grip, the fire of my heat only grew with each passing moment. There was a second of clarity when he stopped touching me to unzip his pants, pulling them down just enough to remove his dick, when I asked myself what the fuck I was doing. 

God, Briar, what the fuck were you doing? 

Then like it had never appeared in the first place, it dissolves the second I felt his length press between my folds, slipping between my thighs slicking his shaft with my sweet-smelling fluid. 

The veins in his ridged cock stroked against the tender parts of me, tickling my clit with every rock of his hips. Ragged breaths tumble from both of us. 

I glimpsed down to view, as he penetrated through the gap he created in my thighs, the tip of his cock gliding beyond my mound revealing just how hard it would be to keep quiet when he buried himself inside my compact walls. It was the most erotic experience of my life.

“Are you scared?” His voice felt like thunder in my eardrum. 

I shook my head no because I wasn’t. I was hot. Driven mad with desire. Delusional. And fucking desperate but I wasn’t scared, for the first time being around him, I wasn’t afraid. 

With calculation, he stretches forward knocking his fist against the closet wall. 

Once. 

Twice. 

Three times.  

The sound ricocheting around in the room making Mr. West elevate his gaze in our region. He couldn’t see us from his desk but his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. The need to investigate whatever it was that he just heard. 

Oh my God.

What was he doing?! 

“Alist—” 

I felt his palm cover my mouth just as he sheathed himself entirely inside of me. Leaving me no time to adjust, no time to settle. 

Alistair wasn’t having sex with me. He was fucking me. He was taking every emotion I had and feasting on it. 

My wetness helped aid his violent thrust, but I could still feel the discomfort from the abrupt action. My fingers dug into the wood of the frame, eyes wide with horror as Greg stood from his desk. 

Icy fear trickles into my veins at the premise of getting caught. Alistair knows what he is doing, what I could lose if we are caught. I think those thoughts are what fuel his vicious onslaught. 

Cruel deep blows from behind me leave me reeling. I could feel him everywhere. His scent strangling me, his cock so deep that I didn’t know how I’d ever feel empty again. 

“Are you scared?” He grunted to me. 

I was submerged with too many feelings. It was all too much. My heart hammered at the dread of being caught, we were going to be caught not only breaking into his office but fucking in his closet. 

I knew the consequences for myself if that happened. 

But even as Mr. West began to walk towards us, I couldn’t tell Alistair to slow down. I wouldn’t even tell him to stop if I had the chance. 

There was a burning in my stomach that only flew higher the harder he pressed into me. Short, ruthless drives that I was shocked no one could hear. My cries were swallowed by his palm over my mouth, and as much as I wanted to I couldn’t shut my eyes. I had to keep watching. 

It was like watching a head-on collision. My eyes just couldn’t be peeled away from the horror. I had to see how it ended. 

Every step Mr. West took, the closer I got to my climax. The more intensely I felt Alistair’s shaft brush against the sensitive spot inside of me. The harder I pressed back into him, giving him something solid to slam into.  

Chills racked down my body as I heard his low grunts of pleasure, the way his free hand held my hip steady. His lips blazed the trail of my throat with sorting mounting urgency. I can feel the way he inhales my scent deep into his lungs. Trapping me there. 

I wanted to come. 

I wanted it so badly that I didn’t care if I got busted.

My mind went empty, my body utterly boneless in his grasp. Everything was spinning, flickers of white spots filled my vision as euphoria licked at my heels. My walls clenching around him tighter and tighter. 

“Tell me, Little Thief. I wanna hear it. Tell me right fucking now.” 

Tears brimmed my eyes from the powerful emotions. His hand pulling from my mouth, leaving me free to scream for help or tell him exactly what he wanted to hear. I was so wound up, that I was already close to falling over the edge. The rubber band inside my stomach began to snap. So when his thumb found my clit, rubbing it mercilessly I couldn’t refrain myself. 

“Yes, I’m afraid,” I whispered in a frail voice that frightened me because it didn’t sound like myself. 

The ultimate high had been reached when Mr. West grasped his hand around the closet doorknob. Ready to open them and watch me shatter into a million pieces while Alistair continued fucking me from behind. My orgasm hit me hard, an onslaught of pleasure that vibrated every inch of my body. 

Sticky, nectar ambrosia leaked down my legs, drowning Alistair’s cock. My pussy convulsed, sucking him inside of me and refusing to let him go. I could feel every dip and curve of his length within my walls as I drew my orgasm from him. 

“Fuck, I need to pull out.” His voice is strained, raspy and strangled. He seems to be saying that more to himself than to me. 

Teeth sunk into the flesh of my shoulder, not just a tiny love bite, but a ferocious bite that left my skin stinging. Alistair pumped his hips into me a few more times, before sliding out of me easily, another shock wave of fulfillment fills my chest as I hear my name on his lips as he comes. 

I can’t help but wonder if that happens often. When he’s in the shower if his hand is wrapped around his cock, jerking until he comes with my name in his lips. 

Beyond the point of ecstasy, that I didn’t even register the sound of a fire alarm blasting had concealed my whimpers of pleasure. I was coming back to earth, the consequences of my actions becoming more and more real as I heard the alarm echo. It sounded all around campus. 

Mr. West curses, so close that he’s basically breathing the same air as me. He quickly forgets about the thumps from his closet, rushing to go help with the apparent fire that has saved my pride and reputation. 

I burst out of the closet, the clean air outside of our sweat and hormones is a brutal reminder of what I just did. What if he had a fucking STD? We didn’t even use a condom. My God I can’t end up pregnant. 

Placing my hand on my chest, forcing myself to calm down as I turn to look at him, my dress sticking to my thighs from the perspiration. 

“Please tell me your clean.” I breathe, wincing as I try not to check him out while he pulls his pants up, zipping them and shaking a hand through his hair. Waltzing out of the tight space as if none of this bothered him. 

There is something that flashes over his eyes. Annoyance? Frustration? 

He breathes, “I’m clean.” 

Relief floods me, taking care of one of the major glaring issues I’m dealing with right now. The siren continues to blare as I jog slightly to the window, seeing that one of the trees in the commons is incased in a rage of orange flames. The fire cackled and hissed loudly, raising higher and higher as it consumed the old tree. 

“Oh my God, Lyra.” I breathe, worry filling me for my friend that I left with three out of the four psychos. 

I spin ready to bolt out of this office and back to where I left her in the grand hall. Alistair’s arms catch me before I can, stopping me with his tall frame, hands holding my forearms tightly. 

“Lyra’s fine.” The human in his eyes is gone, returned are the black orbs that leave no room for anything but darkness. 

“Yeah? And you know that how?” I argue. 

A knowing smirk builds onto his face, twisting his face into the stunning villain he is. My stomach rolls, God I had sex with him. I had the best sex of my life with him and now what? 

“Because she helped Rook set the fire.”