Disclaimer: I own! I own! I own!…….ok, so kidding

A/N: Thank you to all my lovely reviews and considering the ratio of reviews to chapters, stories on this fandom usually get, I guess mine is doing pretty well. Love you all like the soviet union loves Weapons of Mass Destruction. Much Love!

Danielle (TillThatTime)

P.S. Notice the mentioning of Jones Soda…so my favorite drink.

Warning: Sex!….not for kids

Make It Rough

He finds it difficult to keep from staring. He strains to find anything in the room to hold his attention away from her. To keep his eyes from straying to the curves of her legs or the rise and fall of her chest as she leans against his brother to watch some old, decrepit movie that would have never held his attention as a child.

He also tries to keep himself from getting angry.

He tries not to notice as Josh's hand rests comfortably around her waist or the way that his head leans against hers in the dim light illuminating from the TV screen, and he has to fight the urge to knock Josh out with one, quick blow to the face.

But, Drake Parker does not get jealous, especially over someone like her. He can get any girl he wants. He can charm his way into any tight-fitting pair of jeans, so why on earth would he ever feel jealous. At least that's what he tells himself.

He clutches his bottle of Jones Soda in his hand to calm himself, and he barely notices that his knuckles are turning white or the fact that his jaw is clenching tighter by the second. What he does notice is the private kisses that are shared between the couple sitting on a couch that he has grown quite found of over the years.

"God, could you please not do that around me. Some of us have just had dinner." He says, trying to keep his voice light and convince himself and everyone else that that is the real reason why he wants them to stop.

"Wow, you're maturity level is shockingly low." Mindy says, sending him an icy glare, but in further inspection, he notices an amused smile hiding beneath her sneer. He throws his empty bottle towards the trashcan by his feet and an idea forms quickly in his mind.

"Hey man, we're out of soda.. Mind going to the store to get us some more?" He asks suddenly, his attention drawn from her to Josh for a moment.

"You can't be serious, Drake. I'm on a date, just go do it yourself." Josh tells him, throwing his arm around Mindy to emphasize just how comfortable he is with the idea of staying planted on that couch. Drake feels his fist clench as he watches this, but he pushes it aside to keep on attacking the current situation.

"Fine, I'm sure mom will be glad to hear that you dropped one of her diamond earrings down the garbage disposal." Drake muses, folding his arms across his chest, in anticipation of a triumph that he already knows will come.

"But, you said you wouldn't tell." Josh insists, his mouth hung low in disbelief.

"And I wont, if you march on down to the store and get me a soda." Josh is absolutely glaring at him now, and Drake has to once again ignore that uncomfortable feeling that he receives in the pit of his stomach. Josh stands up in a huff and quickly grabs the keys lying on the computer stand.

"I'll be back." he grumbles to Mindy before slamming the door behind him. Drake waits until he hears the roar of a car engine before he makes his way over to the couch. He plops down beside the girl that has been quite for the last couple of minutes and stares at her, waiting for her to speak first.

"If I didn't know you any better, Drake Parker, I'd say you were jealous." Mindy says, her eyebrows raising and her expression turning smug. In one swift motion she is underneath him, and he notices that she is not at all surprised.

"Good thing you do know me better then." He tells her through gritted teeth, his fingers already working to unfasten to buttons of her modest dress shirt. "I would never be jealous over you. I would never be jealous over some psychotic bitch that everyone cringes at the sight of. I would never be jealous over someone so smug, so conceited, so fucking into herself, that she doesn't even see herself for the slut that she really is." He says each of his words with more venom than the last because for some reason he's angry at her. For some reason he needs to insult her, degrade her, and humiliate her, to convince himself that the words that he speaks are true and that she is not worth this feeling that sends him over the edge at the sight of her.

"If I'm the slut what does that make you, Drake." She hisses, her tone just as harsh as his own.

"The person who turned you into one."

She is roughly pulling at his shirt now and his hair becomes disheveled as she pulls the fabric over his head. Her nails run across the bare skin of his chest and he knows that scratches will be left in their place. He leans down over her to leave a trail of bite marks along the sensitive skin of her neck. Through his ragged huffs of breath he continues on with the words that fuel his anger, his breath hot against her skin as he speaks. "I hate you more than anything I've ever hated in my life, Mindy, and if given the chance I would break your heart, if I thought you had one in the first place." And suddenly her fingers are entwined painfully in his hair and his face is jerked upwards to face her, and for a moment he thinks that he sees hurt shining in her eyes. For a moment, he wishes to take it back, to just take everything back.

"Then why do you keep coming back?" Her voice is soft and her forehead is pressed against his own. He can feel the sweat forming on their skin and he can feel her quickening heartbeat against his bare chest as she is pressed beneath him. For a moment they just stare at each other, because for some reason, this question is important. For some reason it means so much more than all the words and insults that have ever been tossed carelessly between them.

"For the same reason you keep coming back." He answers through the silence before trailing his hand along the inside of her thigh. "For this." He pulls her panties down her slender legs before bunching her skirt up around her thighs. "For this feeling of not caring how much I hate you when you're beneath me like this, moaning my name without any venom, without any realization of how much you hate me in return." In one quick motion he pushes into her. His breathing becomes erratic and she arches into him, and there is no further need to say anything, because this is the reason, this is the answer, and it all makes so much fucking sense now. He falls into a steady rhythm and barely notices when he starts cursing her name with each move of his hips. She meets each thrust with a curse of her own and she whispers repeatedly into his ear. "Make it rough." because if you make it harsh, it doesn't mean as much. If you make it rushed and cruel, then there's no time to feel anything. It's better not to feel. It's better not to think, because if they did stop to think then they might register the numbing realization, that there would be no point in closing their eyes to imagine it was someone else, because in the end there's no one else they want.

So make it rough.