The Good Girls Read Free

was as a person didn’t cause her to flinch when I needed a helping hand. “Love the sinner but hate the sin,” she used to say, as if that somehow would make me feel better. It didn’t. It only made me feel dirty and unwanted. I was a bad seed but a good deed, another check mark on her ticket to heaven. I snorted to myself—as if God judged you based on a point system, and I was failing simply by not understanding the questions he was asking of us. What does he want from me? I’m only human, created in his image and trying to live up to the standards of a God. His disappointment in me is his own failure, not mine. My free will is not freedom at all. I have to be a certain person, follow arbitrary rules set by his own creations, or be locked away in a cage like a circus animal, poked and prodded by society until I give in and become one of them.
    But that was a different lifetime for me. I no longer believed in the childhood fairy tales of heaven and hell, good and evil. The lines were a blur of blood and tears. Now I was the girl who harbored secrets and regrets while smiling. I wished I could be more like Ellie, but I hated myself too much to ever have so much self-respect.
    Changing into a short jean skirt and wedge sandals, I looked myself over in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of my door. Good enough.
    I snuck out of my room and carefully made my way to the darkened downstairs, feeling as if it was some metaphor of me slipping closer to hell. The house was eerily quiet, the world dreaming of a better tomorrow as I struggled to escape.
    I made my way down the driveway, only illuminated by the dim lighting of a street lamp from the main road. Sinking down on the curb, I waited for my boyfriend to arrive.
    He pulled up moments later with a bright grin on his handsome face, rubbing his fingers over the few days’ worth of stubble along his jaw. His blue eyes sparkled in the dim overhead lighting that popped on when I pulled open the passenger-side door. I slid across the seat and pulled the door closed, cloaking us in darkness.
    “Everything all right?” he asked as we drove away. Nothing is all right. It never has been.
    “Perfect,” I purred as I began to undo the button to his jeans. He adjusted in his seat so I could lower his zipper. I don’t want to think; I just want to forget.
    “Yes, you are,” he said with a deep laugh as I felt the car swerve when I wrapped my fingers around his length, slowly stroking the smooth skin. I glanced up at his clenched jaw, the muscles ticking underneath his skin as he stared at the road ahead, struggling to concentrate. His long fingers slid into my hair, encouraging me to take it a step further. I smiled as I slid my tongue over his tip, coating my taste buds with his salty flavor. It was hard not to cringe.
    “Fuck,” he groaned. His grip on my hair tightened, and I took him deep into my throat. He pulled off to the side of the road into the darkness and put the car in park, killing the headlights. Slow classic rock played in the background, muffling his quiet moans as I continued to tease him with my tongue.
    “Jesus, what’s gotten into you tonight?”
    I glanced up at him and continued to stroke with my hand. “I was hoping you,” I replied coyly.
    He nodded his head. “Then get over here.”
    I sat up, tucking my hair behind my ear before sliding one of my legs over him, hiking my skirt up around my waist.
    Sliding my panties to the side, I rubbed his head against my entrance.
    “Baby, fuck,” he groaned, his fingers gripping my hips. “I need to put on a condom.”
    “I’m on the pill. I want to feel you.” I panted as I lowered myself slowly onto him. His eyes fell closed. I closed mine as well, getting lost in the sensation and letting my mind empty all of today’s worries. My hips rose and fell, torturously slow as my mouth hovered over Tristan’s, inhaling his minty air.
    “You are so fucking sexy.” Tristan’s hands pulled down