I can’t believe he would fuck her. What’s wrong with him? She’s not even all that pretty. Does he stick his dick in all the girls around here? I bet I’m not even the first one he’s fucked on his desk.
“I’d better go.” Otherwise, I’ll never get out of this without hitting her. I’ve been pretending long enough for now.
“Oh, okay. Thanks for hanging out with me.” She’s insufferable. Unimaginable. Smiling at me with those wide eyes like she’s being genuine. I remember a time when she wasn’t smiling. Only that memory is enough to keep me from screaming now.
Brittney lets me check out the book Aspen recommended, which I care about even less than I did before. “Good to see you,” she says with a smile. “See you soon, I hope.”
“I’ll bring this back on time,” I promise, though I’m not really paying attention. What the fuck is so special about that girl? Why is everybody so into her?
It’s easy to forget there was a time I felt sorry for what she went through. It’s not like I asked Nash to see the video. Who would want to watch that?
“Come on. You’ll love it. It’s rough and hot. Just pretend that's not your brother fucking her.” He laughs a little too loud, a little too hard, and the sound makes me shiver with disgust. I can’t tell if he is kidding or not—his sense of humor has always been a little dark, but this?
“I don’t think so. Can’t I take your word for it?” I rub his arm and give him the sort of smile he likes—flirtatious while biting my lip. “I thought we were hanging out tonight so we could spend time together.” Not to watch a video of some poor girl getting tortured and raped and whatever else.
He only hinted at it, telling me he didn’t want to ruin the surprise.
“We will.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me in close enough that his erect dick is pressing against my stomach. “It’ll be like foreplay.”
Foreplay. Sure, and he’s already horny enough. It won’t take him any time to come. Me? He doesn’t care whether I do or not. It looks like I’ll have to pretend harder than usual this time since the thought of a girl being brutalized doesn’t turn me on in the least.
“Come on,” he whines, even sticking his lip out in a big pout. “I really want you to watch it. You’ll see how serious we are about traitors and what they deserve.”
His eyes darken, and his grip on me tightens. “And it’ll be a warning, too. Just in case you ever get any ideas.”
My blood runs cold at the obvious meaning undertone in his words. “It’s just I don’t have a strong stomach for stuff like that,” I murmur.
“Think of it as a movie. That’s it. Just a movie.” His dick twitches against me, and it starts to sink in that he’s not going to let this go.
My heart sinks, but I nod yes anyway. “Okay. Let’s watch it.”
I never had a choice, did I?
His eyes light up as a smile begins to spread across his face. It’s the look of a kid who just got the gift of his dreams. “And after, you can wear this.” He reaches into the paper bag sitting on his bed and pulls out what I quickly discover is a blond wig.
I wasn’t good enough then when I had to wear a wig to look more like Aspen while we fucked. And I’m not good enough now.
I never will be.
30
LUCAS
I’m on my laptop when she comes in—and immediately, the sense of her being in a hell of a mood envelopes the apartment. It isn’t that she says anything to give me that impression. It’s that she doesn’t. Not a word comes out of her between the time she enters and the time she closes the door to the guest room.
Right away, I call out, “No closed doors. Not unless I’m the one who closed them.” And locked them.
The door swings open, but Delilah makes a point of not showing herself. Things have been tense since I fucked her on my desk. Not because I did it, but because I didn’t make her come after. I’m pretty sure she is mad. Either that, or she’s still pouting because I wouldn’t let her and her little friend stay in class together. Who the fuck knows with girls this age? It could be hormones, for that matter. I don’t have the first clue how to manage that, so I won’t bother.
I’m satisfied with going back to my work. She doesn’t feel like talking and would rather do her studying in there? So much the better. Sometimes the sound of her voice grates on my last nerve. Still, I keep one ear tuned to whatever’s going on.