Filthy Little Pretties

by Trilina Pucci

  “Then we’ll just have to wear him down. Together, Grey.”

  Together. She knows that’s what I’m scared of most—that she’ll walk because everything’s become as complicated as she’d feared. I slip my fingers inside her silk shorts, diving down between her wet, exposed lips, circling her clit. I want her so fucking bad.

  “Oh fuck, Grey,” she breathes out loudly, dropping her head back, grabbing my bicep.

  “I want to watch you come. Hard and fast. Show me, Cherry.”

  “God that’s fucking hot,” she moans, spreading her legs wider and watching me work.

  I push two fingers inside of her, watching her eyes squeeze shut and her breathing pick up as she rocks into my hand with each thrust. She’s fucking soaked, covering my fingers in her desire.

  “I want to run my tongue over your clit and taste you after you come.”

  Those doe eyes open, staring into mine, hand gripped on my arm as I finger fuck her faster and faster.

  “Fuck yourself, Cherry. Rub that needy little clit.”

  Her breath is unsteady as she rocks her hips faster, bringing her hand to her clit. Her fingers begin rubbing as she stares at me with her lips slightly parted, panting.

  “Get there, because then I’m gonna feed you my cock.”

  I lean in closer, pulling her bottom lip into my mouth and kissing her hard as she begins to tense around my fingers, breath held until her back arches, and she lets out a long exhale of my name.

  “There it is, Cherry.”

  She licks her lips, savoring the feeling as her hand pulls from her shorts and the other cups my hard cock. My fingers work slower, in and out of her, still feeling the convulsions continuing. Her eyes flutter open when I pull them from her slowly, and she lets out a sweet sigh. Rolling toward me, she rubs the length of me as she sets the sexiest smirk on me.

  “My turn.”

  Donovan

  FIRST PERIOD CAME AND WENT, but the only thing I really focused on was Grey’s darkening mood and Liam’s absence. I know he’s here because I saw his Ducati, but he’s skipping out, avoiding us, and I’m beginning to feel hurt. I look down at the paper on my desk and doodle squiggly lines, lost in my thoughts.

  If Grey’s right and Liam’s jealous, this friendship’s going to be hard to salvage, and that’s not the reality I’m looking for. But my gut tells me something else is going on. He’s mad at Grey, and after the shit he pulled in the cafeteria, mixed with all the other parts of the day, there’s no way Liam is going to let that go without making Grey suffer a little.

  He was the same when we were little. Holding a grudge until Grey finally broke and apologized sincerely. Until it happened, he would hide out. Hide out… Oh my God. I know where you are.

  My hand shoots up as I dip, reaching for my bag. The substitute just waves at me, uncaring of what I want, so I push out of my seat and make my way out of the door, saying “bathroom” as I pass him. The halls are empty since classes just started, leaving my footsteps sounding uncomfortably loud, as I rush to the only quiet, hidden spot on campus. Last month when I had to make up an art studies project, I was shown to a back room by the art classrooms that would give me privacy and uninterrupted time. Nobody uses it except for a few very serious art students. He’s there. I know it.

  I round the corner into another hallway when my feet abruptly stop. Shit. Laura’s head snaps to stare at me, eyes like slits, with Caroline next to her and a group of other random twats I don’t care to know. Not what I was looking for today. I start to ignore them and walk by, because I have a task more important than them, but I stop short. No, I need to take care of this little crack in the crown. I am not led, I lead. Grey’s tattoo comes to mind, and I smile. Thanks for the reminder.

  Turning toward the pack, I smile. “Let’s get this over with. Shall we?”

  The girls glance at each other and stare back at me, with vapid looks and cruel intentions, as I lock eyes with Caroline. “Do you want an audience?”

  I see the ambivalence in her eyes. She’s worried, and scared. She should be—she’s seen what I can do. Lifting my hand, I wave to the group behind Laura and Caroline. “Leave.”

  But nobody moves. They’re doubling down. Fine by me. A tiny bit of smugness flares in Caroline’s eyes before I snuff it out, clapping my hands together and snapping viciously, “I said, get, bitches!”

  Everyone turns, grabbing their things and pushing to scatter. Caroline says nothing, her head switching from left to right, watching her army of assholes run, but Laura rolls her eyes, still trying to play the role before she glances to Caroline to check if it was okay.

  It makes me laugh as I speak. “Laura, I was going to speak to Caroline about you, since you don’t seem to have a mind of your own, but I think you should hear this firsthand.” She crosses her arms defensively.

  “Stop allowing yourself to be used by boys who don’t respect you. They’ll never love you. Grey owes you an apology for how he treated you, and I won’t stand in the way of you getting it. But if you ever cross my path again, in a way that I don’t like…I want you to ask yourself one question.” My lips tilt into a smile. “Who’s my queen afraid of?”

  Laura’s eyes drift slowly to Caroline, who looks pale, and then back to me.

  A cleansing breath leaves me, and I nod. “This is the last time we have a conversation like this. Consider your ‘get out of jail free’ card used. Next time, it’s all consequence.” They swallow hard, and it’s clear they’ve received my message. “Okay, girls. You can go. We’re all done.”

  Caroline turns without any remark, Laura following, both slowly walking away. I begin to turn back when Laura’s voice grabs my attention.

  “How can you love him when you know who he is?”

  I should deflect, pretend I don’t know what she’s talking about because we’re supposed to be under the radar, but I can’t. Denying that I love him isn’t something I’m capable of. And these girls know to never fucking cross me again.

  “Because even a villain is someone else’s hero.”

  The smirk on Caroline’s face is almost endearing. She gets it. Because she’s the villain and wants Liam to love her. I point a finger at her. “You and I—”

  But she cuts me off. “We’re good, kitten. I see you.”

  “Keep it that way.”

  I turn away from them, leaving them to watch me, and walk down the hall, letting the moment drift away as I head to my destination. Two more hallways and a thousand more worried thoughts and I’m standing in front of the doorway. Please be here. I peep through the glass cutout and see Liam in the far corner with an oversized sketch pad, chewing on the end of his pencil.

  Liam.

  Trying not to startle him, I pull the door open slowly, but it’s old and squeaks as the hinges strain against the pressure, making Liam’s head pop up. He darts up to stand, surprised, staring at me and closing the top of his sketch pad quickly.

  “Van,” he greets. Pulling the pencil from his mouth, he finishes, “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.”

  “Why?” he questions, tapping the pencil against his leg as I move deeper into the room.

  I roll my eyes, stopping in front of him, and cross my arms. “That’s a stupid question. Because you made me. You’re hiding.”

  He scrunches his face and shrugs, as he sits back down in his chair.

  “Can I sit?” I question, looking down at his broody face. He pushes a chair out with his foot across from him and nods.

  “Are you going to talk to me or sulk? Because I have all day.”

  He breaks, looking up at me, and grins, opening his sketch pad to an empty sheet. “Okay, you pose, we talk.”

  My eyes almost pop out of my head as I let out a little squeal. “Deal.”

  He stares at me, but I don’t know what he wants me to do. So I contort into ridiculous dramatic poses, making him laugh. “Am I doing it right?”

  “Just be natural and talk. I
’ll take what I want.” His fingers brush the pad, clearing it, before he stares at me again. God this is so awkward. Settling back into my chair, I stick my tongue out at him.

  “Be serious, Van,” he gripes. Oh geez.

  “Okay. How’s this for serious… Why are you avoiding everyone and punishing them when they want to apologize?”

  “You don’t mean everyone, you mean Grey,” he answers levelly, tilting his head and looking at my jaw.

  “Same difference.” My words make his eyes jump to mine.

  He sits back in his chair, this time staring at me without the artist’s wonder in his eyes.

  “No. It’s not. That’s your problem. You don’t know the difference.”

  “What does that mean?” Now it’s my turn to glare back at him.

  “It means, this is what you do. You always have. He does something atrocious, and you forgive him. As if it never happened.” I don’t answer, because I don’t know how to explain it. I do forgive him, but Grey does all the atrocious things for me, not against me. That’s what Liam doesn’t get.

  “In the cafeteria… He treated you like dirt, Van. Likened you to a whore and…” His eyes move away as his words trail off. He can’t even look at me.

  “Then fucked me like one…” His eyes snap back to me, guilt behind them, as I continue. “You don’t have to say it. It’s written all over your face.”

  Liam stands, rubbing a hand over his head. “Why can’t you hold him accountable?”

  “I do. And I can. He was acting out of desperation, and grief…he thought he lost me.” And I would’ve done the same. Tried to hurt him as much as I hurt.

  He gives an empty laugh. “You can lie to yourself all you want. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. You’re just another Laura—just a bigger trophy for him to win until the next one.”

  I shove to my feet and steel my spine. “Fuck you. I only forgive him blindly. Only him. So pay attention to what you say to me.”

  His head drops down as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Shit. I’m sorry, Van. I’m so angry. So mad that… He doesn’t deserve you.”

  “And you do? Is that what you want to say?” His eyes dart away again, but I walk closer to him and take his hand. “You’ve always known that it was Grey.”

  “I have. But I hate it.”

  My arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug. “I also want you. As my best friend, like you’ve always been. My person. The one who’ll laugh at my jokes and vice versa. Liam…it’s me and you. Please? You are so important to me and to Grey.”

  His arms tighten around me, and I feel his chin rest on the top of my head as we stay like that, silent for what feels like a hundred years.

  “No, Van,” he whispers, reaching behind him and pulling my arms from him. I step back and stare at him, unbelieving, as he shakes his head.

  “He doesn’t get to fucking win this time. This is what he does. He’s selfish and now everything is ruined. You, me, him. It’s all fucked-up, and I won’t forgive him. Not this time. Not even for you.”

  “Liam,” I say quietly, feeling like someone just pulled the rug out from under me.

  He steps back, grabbing his backpack and looking at me. “No. I’m done, Van. If you want me as a friend, then that doesn’t include Grey.”

  I can’t even watch him walk out. My entire world just flipped upside down. The sketch pad is all I stare at as I hear the door close behind me. Walking to it, I pull the pages back down until I’m at the top. It’s the picture he was working on when I came in. I know because it’s the only one in the book.

  My lips press together as I take in the sketch, holding off a shaky breath I want to release. It’s so detailed, with shadowed smudges and intricate strikes. It’s perfect, and it’s us. Me, Grey, and Liam, all jumping off the dock at the lake when we were kids. I let the page drift shut, already mourning the heavy loss, because even if I get one of them, nothing will ever be the same.

  “Did you tell Grey about today?”

  Kai pushes the bowl of ice cream across the stone countertop toward me, where we’re both perched in his kitchen.

  “Yes, and I’m sure you can imagine how he reacted.” I laugh but still feel sad. “They’re so angry with one another, and it’s all valid. How do we resolve that? It feels impossible, and I hate it, and I feel responsible… and…and…and.”

  My words are accented by the stabbing of my spoon into the ice cream before Kai takes the bowl from my hand, eyes wide. But not before I dip my spoon in, scooping up a sizeable serving and shoveling it in my mouth, frowning as I look at his sympathetic face.

  “What am I going to do?” I mumble, mouth full.

  “Give them time,” he answers, putting the bowl down next to him. “Those two have to fight it out their own way, and nobody can force their hand. Not even you. They speak their own language, Donovan. I really think the only person they love more than you is each other.”

  I smile as he wags his eyebrows at the end of his sentence, while handing me a napkin.

  “Why does that feel so dirty coming out of your mouth?”

  Kia shrugs. “Wishful thinking maybe. But seriously, neither one of them know how to do anything without the other. They’re brothers. Just give it time. Liam will forgive you for not being the girl who he’s had on a pedestal, and Grey will keep becoming the man who you know he is.”

  Blotting my lips, I smile at him, feeling only the tiniest bit of relief after hearing what he said because there’s still a chance they’ll never come around.

  “Let’s hope you’re right because the thought of losing Liam hurts. Really fucking hurts. But if Grey couldn’t bully me, neither can Liam.” A growl comes from my throat before I add, “I can’t believe he said me or Grey. What the fuck.”

  Kai’s shoulder bumps mine, calling my face to his. “They’ll figure it out. Doesn’t mean it’ll happen soon, but there’s nothing that those boys won’t do for you.”

  “But he said he wouldn’t this time. That’s what Liam said, Kai.”

  His brows draw together. “Really?”

  “Really,” I answer as he nods, looking away.

  Kai looks like me now. Defeated. My head drops to lie against his shoulder as we sit quietly because there’s no more to say and I don’t want to say any more. It’s exhausting. He reaches down, grabbing the ice cream bowl, and sets it back into my lap, picking up his own.

  “Let’s just eat our feelings…”

  Grey

  IT’S BEEN TWO DAYS, AND Donovan has done nothing but mope and make me consider murder plots against Liam. He’s being such an asshole. The fucking irony is that, in the end, I’m the one who didn’t make her choose—it’s Liam making shit hard. He’s hating me on her behalf, and I’m doing the same to him, but it feels like any minute I’m going to explode, lose my shit, and beat his face in until he says uncle.

  I woke up before the sun was barely rising, just so the river would be empty, needing to get out there to let my mind rest. I’ve stayed with her the last two nights, pretending that everything will work out, when I’m certain it won’t. The note I wrote lies on the pillow next to her, as I lean down and kiss her lips gently, not wanting to wake her.

  Sneaking out quietly, I walk down her hall to the stairs, but the moment I take the last step, I see a familiar face standing by the door, opening it for me. He hates that I stay over, but it’s not as if he gets a choice.

  “Butler.” I smile, walking past him faintly hearing “degenerate” said under his breath as I make my way out of her house.

  I hit the street, flipping my key ring around my finger as the doorman opens my car. Slipping inside, I push the key in, bringing the growl of the engine to life, and pull out into traffic, heading to the boathouse. The street is adjacent to Central Park, so as I drive, my mind jumps from memory to memory, sucking all my anger from me and replacing it with something else—maybe regret.

  Every time I look, there’s another photo drawn up in my
head… Donovan and me as kids sailing boats in the park for my birthday… Liam and I pushing her on the swings while we played tag… The first time she convinced us to go ice-skating and then fell on her ass a hundred times… Liam and I sitting on the bench, sad and miserable after she left… Breaking my fist against a tree when I found out my mom died… Liam sitting with me until I stopped crying and never telling anyone that I did.

  Fuck. My hands grip the steering wheel harder as the weight on my shoulders gets heavier. I don’t have one memory without either of them, and that feels bittersweet. Because now, my best friend hates me, but especially hates that my girlfriend loves me. I cut over into the next lane and give the park one last look, before moving further and further away until it’s just color in my rearview mirror.

  The drive goes by fast, mainly because I’m lost in my head on autopilot as I pull up in front of the boathouse. Tossing my keys into the duffle that’s in the back seat, I hang it over my back as I push out of my car, taking in a deep breath. The water is still, beautiful, home. It’s a perfect day to row out. Staring down at the pavement, I walk, only glancing up a few times, still stuck in my head. Fuck, I feel so goddamn defeated. I can’t fix this for her or for me. I don’t even know what I would say to him if he gave me the opportunity. My hand reaches for the door, and I yank it open, not paying attention to anything around me as I enter.

  Wait, why the fuck is the door open? I should’ve had to unlock that.

  A loud thud jars me, just as I lift my head to see Liam standing ten feet away. His bag’s plopped at his feet as he glares at me. “What the fuck are you doing here, Grey?”

  I drop my own on the benches along the wall and let out an empty laugh. “What does it look like?”

  He bends, snatching his duffle off the floor, jaw tensed, anger marring his features as he starts toward the door. “Whatever. I’m leaving. This is all yours, too.”