After a long moment, he nods. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” I think. Then again, I thought I had a clear view of what I wanted when I put all this into motion. I didn’t expect Devan to lean into the dirtiness of the fantasies and then shove them into an entirely new realm of sexiness. I clear my throat. “I’m going to change.”
He watches me for a long moment. “Okay.”
I try to tell myself I’m not fleeing the room as I hurry back into the bedroom and grab my bag. Except it does feel like fleeing. Like hiding. What if he wants something more? I shut that thought down really fast. I can’t afford to hope. Better to play through this alternate history sequence and leave it at that.
I have to drag a comb through my hair to get out the tangles from Devan’s hands, and then I dress quickly. I made a few changes to the costume I wore to the party on my twentieth birthday. It’s the same sinfully short pleated plaid skirt and tied-up white top, but I left off the bra and changed out the bikini style panties for a sheer white thong. I’ve put on some weight in muscle in the last five years, so now the skirt doesn’t fully cover my ass and gives taunting peeks to my panties in the front as I move. The shirt is thin enough to see my nipples through. I finish off the look by pulling my hair up into pigtails like I had it that night.
I take a deep breath and head back into the living room. I barely make it two steps through the doorway before Devan grabs me, wrapping a big hand around my forearm and practically carrying me to the small bathroom off the dining room. He shoves me inside and follows me in, slamming the door behind him. “What. The. Fuck?”
I blink as he turns on the light. “Devan? What are you doing here?”
“You don’t get to ask questions, birthday girl.” He sounds absolutely furious. “Not after you disappeared without a single fucking word to me last year.”
Something goes a little funny in my head. Of course we’re playing it like this. Of course this alternate history is consistent. Of course I would have snuck off without saying a single fucking word to Devan if he fucked me at nineteen the way he did just a short time ago. “There was nothing to talk about.”
“Oh, I think there’s plenty to talk about.” He leans against the door and crosses his arms over his chest. “Did you put on that slutty outfit hoping I’d show up again this year?”
“Of course not.”
“You better be lying.” His gaze drags over me slowly, lingering on the top and skirt. “I don’t give a damn who you fuck the rest of the year, Hazel. But that pussy is mine on your birthday. So you had better not have been planning to give my pussy to one of those frat boys at this party.”
My heart speeds up. I lick my lips. “Why stop at one? Maybe I was going to give it to all of them.”
I don’t know what I expect, but he laughs. The sound isn’t happy, and the hint of cruelty in it makes my thighs clench. “I was going to do right by you.”
“Excuse me?”
He continues as if he didn’t hear me. “I was going to take you somewhere tonight and give it to you properly. But after that comment, I changed my mind.” He pushes off the door. “I’m going to fuck you in this dirty bathroom like the little slut you are. I’m going to make you scream so loud, all those frat boys outside the door can hear you and know you’re getting dicked down in a way they couldn’t begin to accomplish.”
I hold up my hands. “Devan, wait. Let’s talk about this.”
But he’s done talking. Again, I get more than a hint of anger as he crosses the distance between us in one single stride and grabs me. I barely get a squawk out when he lifts me onto the counter and steps between my legs. “Look at that,” he murmurs. “Your pussy is there, on display. You really were flashing that invitation at anyone who dared look.”
He brushes his fingers along the hem of my skirt where it’s fallen up against my waist. “A school girl.” His gaze flicks to mine. “Are you trying to remind me that you’re my ward?”
“I’m twenty. I’m not your ward.”
“You sure as fuck are.” He drags his knuckles over my pussy. “I took care of your pussy last year, and I’m going to do the same this year.”
“Because you’re a good guardian.” I manage to inject a thread of sarcasm into my tone, but not nearly enough to combat how needy I sound. “Well then… Do it.”