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FreakA "Love Bites" Contest Honorable Mention
by Ché Mejean
“What scares you the most?”
“What the hell kind of question is that, Ben? We are out here in the middle of nowhere and you want me to tell you about what scares me? You’re a freak.” Molly was sarcastic and biting. Always had been.
Ben shrugged. “Maybe I am. But you like it.” Ben placed his hand affectionately on Molly’s bare knee. She had worn her shortest skirt. It was endearing.
“Whatever.” Molly rolled her eyes and made her signature “you’re a dumb-ass” face. Ben was so used to it, he didn’t even notice. They had been inseparable for years, Molly and Ben. Ben and Molly. You didn’t get one without the other. But they never called it a relationship. They had always dated other people and were open about the association. But when Ben started sleeping with Louisa Bryant, Molly had been pushed to the side. Ben had penciled in tonight’s quality time with Molly. Louisa did not like the idea that Ben and Molly had such an intimate bond. She was jealous. Ben knew it. Louisa was driving a wedge between them. It had taken a fight to get here. A knockdown, drag-out to get to this moon drenched stretch of desolation. Ben looked at Molly’s legs again. It had been worth it. The cemetery on Lansford Road had always been one of Molly’s favorite places. The aged stones and ancient oak trees surrounded by a decaying stone wall were ominous. This place always filled Molly with fear and dread and adrenaline and for some reason, that adrenaline always made Molly horny. Molly was a lover of all things macabre. Movies, places, people. It was a sure bet he’d get laid if he took her to a horror movie. She was kinky that way.
“Come on, Molly.” Ben’s voice was nagging “what are you afraid of?”
“Nothing. Ben, I don’t have anything left to loose.” Molly was of course referring to him. She had lost him. It was strained between them. He had spoken little of Louisa, and yet that is all Molly heard. Louisa was in every aspect of their conversation. Louisa was all around them.
Her meaning wasn’t lost on Ben. He looked at her with his big, brown, sad eyes. She had always been his heart. The moonlight trickled in through the passenger side window. It was full and bright. Molly looked porcelain in it’s glow. Dark hair. Eyes that mirrored his own in color but were almond and slanted. The shadows caused her tiny nose to fade into nothing on her face. Her full pouting mouth sparkled with traces of her lip-gloss. He did miss her. He knew he had done the right thing by fighting to see her tonight. He couldn’t be whole without her in his life.
He reached up and touched her cheek. It was damp. He hadn’t noticed the tears.
“Mol, I’m sorry. She’s ruining us, isn’t she?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. But I can’t tell you who to love?”
“I don’t love her. I just sorta like looking at her.”
“You sound like such a pig, Ben. You wouldn’t date someone just cause she was hot and she was putting out.”
“Sure I would, Molly.”
“Ben!”
“But I don’t love her. It’s you, Molly.”
His hand was still on her face. He applied the tiniest bit of pressure and she moved toward him. It had been months since they had kissed. It didn’t take long for the kiss to escalate into something more heated. Within minutes Molly straddled Ben’s lap. Her blouse was in the passenger’s seat. Her denim mini skirt was hiked up and her round ass cheeks were peeking out. She was squirming around on him. She was getting off and he wasn’t. He was still confined to his pants. “It’s okay, tonight is about her,” he told himself. His face pressed into her breasts, the steering wheel at her back. He looked up to find her staring into the backseat.
“Molly?” She bent down and kissed him, never once taking her eyes off the back seat. She writhed on his lap and moaned.
“Molly!” She looked down at him and smiled briefly before biting her bottom lip and sighing.
He moved Molly over so he could twist his body and look into the back seat. Louisa’s dull eyes stared unblinking straight ahead. The blood had matted in her hair and on her face. Her perfect body sat perfectly still – marred only by the purple welts and smattering of blood that was accented by her fair skin. He involuntarily shivered.
“Molly, would you look at me instead of her?”
© Mejean, 2007
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Ché Mejean is a previously unpublished author. She is a product of good Christian parents and the public school system of Hall County, GA. She lives with her cat, Zapper Louise in South Carolina.