5
BODHI
Ithrust into the busty blonde from behind, rubbing her clit as I drive into her one final time before spilling my load in the condom and roaring my release. The brunette underneath her moans and writhes on the bed as the blondie licks her pussy. I’m guessing it’s still slippery from my dick because I fucked the brunette first before moving on to her friend.
I’m high as a kite, a mix of narcotics and alcohol sloshing through my veins, but at least I remembered to wrap my dick before I took these two girls up to one of the bedrooms in Otis’s house. At least that is one good thing Dillon taught me. I shudder at the thought of ever knocking a girl up. That is something that will never happen.
I’m never having kids.
My DNA is way too fucked up to consider bringing more mini-Reeves or mini-Saffrons into the world.
My blood boils, like it does anytime I think about Reeve or Saffron or Mom or Dillon. To think I used to look up to my dad. Want to be like him. Hung off Dillon’s every word like he was some kind of god.
What a fucking joke, I think as I pull out of blondie and flop down beside her on my back. I grab my joint where I left it on the bedside table, light it up, and take a toke, inhaling deeply as my mind wanders over the shit show that is my so-called life.
Adults suck.
Every single adult in my life has either screwed me over or let me down. Dillon included.
He's as selfish as the rest of them. If he hadn’t been such a cunt the night Vivien left Ireland, my entire life could have been completely different. If he had claimed his woman, Vivien never would have returned to Reeve. Maybe Reeve wouldn’t have abandoned me then. I don’t harbor any delusions he would have been with Saffron. That whore was one seriously crazy bitch. He clearly regretted letting her mess with his life in such a destructive way. He never would have gotten with her if she permanently ruined things for him with his childhood sweetheart.
Saffron Roberts was a lying, cheating, stealing, whoring, good-for-nothing, gold-digging slut, and I hope she is rotting in the fiery pits of hell. It is nothing less than she deserves. That bitch didn’t give a shit about me. I was a means to an end for her. When her blackmail backfired, she was willing to terminate her pregnancy without giving her baby,me, a second thought. Then she took drugs while pregnant, uncaring how that might impact the baby growing inside her.
She truly was a selfish bitch.
“Babe.” The brunette slinks over to me, pressing her nonexistent tits to my side and pinning me with fake doe eyes. “I need your cock again.”
I shake my head and swat her hand away when she reaches for my dick.
“Ah, come on,” the blonde says, getting in on the act again. She crawls between my legs, pushing them apart. “It’s not every day we get to screw a rock legend’s son. We need to make the most of it.”
I explode, venting all my aggression in the wrong direction. “Get the fuck away from me, you slut.” I shove her shoulder with my foot, pushing her back, and swing my legs around, planting my feet on the edge of the bed. Looking over my shoulder, I glare at both of them. “You’re both whores and lousy lays. All women are gold-digging sluts with ulterior motives.” I jab my finger in their direction. “You have just proven that fact.” Blondie scowls, opening her mouth to retaliate, no doubt. “Shut your skanky mouth, and get the fuck out.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” she says, climbing to her feet.
“I told you we should’ve held out for the other twin,” the brunette says, flipping me the bird as she scrambles to her feet, hurriedly pulling her slutty dress back on.
Her words roll over me like water off a duck’s back, but I know they might register and hurt when I’m sober. “My brother wouldn’t touch either of you even if you paid him,” I say, turning around on the bed and sitting up against the headrest.
“Doesn’t say much about you, does it?” Blondie retorts, squeezing her massive tits into a bra that looks way too small to contain them before shimmying into a tight black dress.
“No underwear. How classy,” I snarl, pulling my boxers and jeans on. Reaching down, I swipe my T-shirt off the floor and yank it over my head.
“Loser,” Blondie says, glowering at me as she yanks the door open, and the two girls storm out into the hallway.
“Good riddance,” I mumble as I stand, thrusting my hand out to hold on to the wall when my body sways and the room spins.
“Holy shit,” Otis says, appearing in the doorway a few seconds later. “What the hell did you say to the girls? I have never seen Nellie so angry. Mahlik will kick your ass if you hurt his sister.”
“Which one is his sister?” I ask, not realizing one of the girls was related to my new friend.
There is a hierarchy at the snobby private school I attend with my brother. The token scholarship kids stick together and don’t usually mix with the rich kids. Not sure where I fit in the scheme of things. Or life, in general, anymore. I only hung around with the popular kids because of my brother. But they are his friends, not mine. It’s time to change things up, and the truth is, I feel more at ease around Otis, Mahlik, and their crew than I do my so-called own kind.
Mahlik lives in a foster home and Otis lives in this rundown two-story three-bed two-bath house in a less than desirable part of LA. Mom would throw a hissy fit if she knew I was here, but she thinks I’m tucked up in bed, licking my wounds and nursing my sore feelings.
Well, fuck that shit.
I’m done wallowing. Done letting the sins of the past impact me.