Dirty Girls

by Lily White

  While a bevy of admirers vied for Soren’s attention, it was a particular blond with teased hair and blue eye shadow that dominated his lap, her manicured fingers gladly accepting the joint he passed her.

  The anger I felt in that moment was a bomb ticking and ready to explode. Not only had the asshole not done anything about what Becky said to me, but he had gone as far as to wrap his hand over her hip while she danced between his legs like a queen who was chosen for the night.

  “You might want to rethink your plan to fuck him,” Shea commented. “God knows what STDs he’ll have when she’s done riding his cock.”

  Kendall was livid, and I couldn’t blame her. It had been a while since I’d felt this pissed off.

  While Kendall and Shea were talking shit beside me, I glanced away from Soren to find Quinton’s eyes glued to my face. He shook his head, smiled, and blew out a cloud of smoke before elbowing Soren and tipping his chin my way.

  Slowly, a dark stare slid my direction.

  I expected this would be the moment. Soren would see me in this skimpy dress with my hair and makeup done and the room around us would melt away, our eyes meeting when he realized I was the hottest girl to be seen.

  It didn’t happen because real life isn’t like all the stereotypical teen movies.

  Instead, he studied what I was wearing, his eyes narrowing into thin slits as he shoved Becky toward Quinton and whispered something in his ear.

  “Oh look. They’re passing her around.”

  Kendall’s relief was obvious in her tone of voice, but what she didn’t notice was the white-hot anger pulsating around Soren like a dying star that was about to explode.

  What did he have to be angry about? It wasn’t like I was rubbing up on someone who hated him. Wasn’t like I was bestowing my royal attention on a bitch I’d promised to handle in his defense.

  If anyone should be mad, it was me. So, when he stood from his seat and stormed in my direction, I squared my shoulders and took a sip of my drink, my eyes pinning his from over the rim of my cup just daring him to do something about it.

  “Hey, Soren.”

  It was all Kendall got out before he shoved her aside, snatched the drink out of her hand and practically tossed it at her.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Little Olly?”

  His question was a hiss of words against my ear, his body so close, the heat of him was a blanket covering all the skin that was left bare by a dress I hadn’t wanted to wear in the first place.

  “Partying. What does it look like I’m doing?”

  For once, the room actually went still like in all the movies, except it wasn’t because the popular boy finally realized my worth, it was because Soren stood to his full height above me, grabbed me by the neck and shoved me back.

  “You’re not invited here.”

  Behind him, Becky had turned to gloat while Quinton ran his hand up her thigh. I caught her bitchy smile just before my eyes tipped up to the asshole that had chosen her side over mine.

  “It’s my house. I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”

  “Not dressed like that, you won’t. Go the fuck up to your room and change.”

  Was he serious? I wasn’t a little kid who had to hide behind closed doors while the rest of the party carried on like a madhouse around me.

  “I can wear whatever I want. And there’s no way in hell-“

  He picked me up and tossed me over his damn shoulder before I could finish what I saying. My ass was bared to the entire room thanks to the short length of my skirt, but he tugged it into place while marching me through the packed rooms on his way to locking me up in my bedroom.

  People laughed and pointed as we moved past them, my cheeks burning hot from rage and embarrassment, but that didn’t stop my body from bouncing over Soren’s shoulder as he took the stairs two at a time to march me to my room.

  Kicking the door closed behind him, he set me on the floor, glaring down at me as I took a few steps away and tilted my head up to glare back.

  “What was that about?”

  “Get changed,” was all he answered, his eyes roaming down my body before returning to my face.

  “Why? There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing.”

  “You’re pissing me off,” he roared, but two could play at that game.

  Shouting loud enough that I’m sure the entire house could hear me, I stepped up to him, not giving a damn that he was head and shoulders taller than me.

  “If anybody has a right to be pissed, it’s me. I told you I needed a favor and you told me the bitch would be handled. Well, you were handling her, alright, just not in the way I expected.”

  His smirk turned into a seductive grin, darks eyes sparkling with wicked malice. Backing me across the room with his long legged stride, he pressed his arms against the opposite wall to cage me in.

  “Did you like that?”

  Head tilting, Soren lowered his voice to a dangerously low croon that was at odds with the menace I saw behind his eyes.

  “What did you think I’d do? Run out like some kind of hero and tell her she couldn’t join the party? I’m not a nice guy, Olly. I thought we’d already established that. So why did you think that just because someone hurt your feelings, I would be the person to do anything about it?”

  That was the million-dollar question.

  Why did I think he would come to my defense? It wasn’t like he was showing me he cared over the past few weeks that he’d tormented me. I hated to think that while Soren had been his usual bully self, I’d allowed my thoughts to mingle with fantasy. I thought maybe...and maybe is a dangerous word when you’re dancing with the devil.

  Maybe let’s you believe his intentions might not be as horrible as you know they are.

  Maybe massages your shoulders while you let down your guard.

  Maybe is an innocent whisper or gentle breeze. It’s a comfort that warms the heart while you’re being shoved to your knees.

  “I shouldn’t have thought that, should I? What a stupid little girl I’ve been.”

  His smile widened, but his dark eyes didn’t join in on the expression. “Change your clothes.”

  “No.”

  My defiance had taken hold. Vehemence so hot, it was boiling inside me, daring this son of a bitch to make one more demand.

  Lowering one arm, he grabbed my chin, but I was sick and tired of his belief that he had any right to touch me.

  My hand balled into a fist and I punched him in the chest as hard as I could, pain exploding over my knuckles while he didn’t so much as grunt.

  Eyebrows lifting up his head, he chuckled.

  “Do it again and see what happens.”

  So I did.

  Over and over, in fact.

  My punches to his chest and stomach alternated with slaps to his face and kicks to his shins, the anger inside me finally boiling over until I was a trapped animal fighting to the death to escape my cage.

  All the while, he stood there and took it. Not moving away. Not groaning with pain. Not giving much of a damn that I was unleashing a torrent of rage, my voice rising higher as I called him every insult in the book.

  Exhaustion finally took hold, every ounce of anger I had was sucked out of my body with the blows. My breath was raspy and my chest heaved. His eyes dropped to my pulse pounding in my throat and even lower again to my body.

  “You done?”

  No. I wasn’t done. But there was no way I’d find more energy to keep fighting him.

  “Are you going to change now?”

  Also a no. I shook my head because I didn’t have enough breath to speak.

  “Wrong answer.”

  It didn’t take him any effort at all to pull me away from the wall and toss me across my bed. Barely having to strength to crawl backwards away from him, I stared as he dropped to the mattress and crawled up to hover over me.

  And while I should have been livid that he thought he had the right to get this close, I was
breathless instead, my nipples hard enough to cut glass because it felt good to beat the crap out of him and the way he was looking at me now felt even better.

  “Then I’ll change your clothes for you.”

  My skirt bunched up around my hips when he moved between my spread thighs. The sound of tearing fabric was next, his strong hand ripping the strap from my shoulder and tugging down. Kendall wouldn’t be getting the dress back, apparently, but the thought was only in passing because his mouth was on mine, all possessive, and punishing, and angry.

  I may not have had the strength to punch or slap, but I was still fighting a battle with my teeth and tongue, my chest arching up against his as his hand ripped the dress off more so he could he palm the weight of my breast.

  This wasn’t a sweet coupling by two people who loved each other, it was a war he was winning, one where he showed me just how docile I could be when his fingers pinched my nipple and his teeth caught my bottom lip.

  Dark eyes held mine as that same hand traveled down to lift my skirt even higher, his fingers exploring the dampness of my panties before flicking them aside. And he didn’t give me any warning before shoving two fingers inside, curling them in just the right way as his thumb rubbed circles over my clit.

  Releasing my lip with his teeth to leave the soft flesh sore and tingling, he lowered his mouth to my ear, his voice a deep croon as he pumped his hand between my legs pushing me to an orgasm that felt like it had been building since the second he’d walked out of prison.

  “You’ve been asking for this.”

  “How?” I managed to ask despite my eyes rolling back in my head and my hips pushing forward with the demand he pump harder.

  Dark, quiet laughter was his answer.

  His cryptic response didn’t matter in the end because within seconds, my body was exploding with pleasure, blood rushing in my head so hard that it sounded like a freight train roaring through my bedroom.

  My mouth opened on a silent scream, my neck arching back so far that my chest pressed flush against the wall of muscle above me.

  I would hate myself when the orgasm ended, but at that moment, I couldn’t give a damn because this release was everything I needed.

  Once the stars had stopped bursting behind my eyes, my body relaxed to settle down against the mattress. Half delirious, I stared up at him with hazy, satisfied eyes.

  He didn’t say anything at first, didn’t make a move to take this moment further or make good on the erection I knew he had because it was pressing against my inner thigh.

  “You’re so pretty when you do that,” he finally said, his voice rough.

  But then, when I thought he would make a move to strip off his pants and finish this in the only way left to us, he rolled away instead and pushed to his feet.

  Crossing the room, he didn’t bother to look back at me as he opened the door and said, “Get changed before coming back downstairs.”

  The door slammed shut and I was left staring at it, anger boiling inside me because I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to beat the asshole’s face in or hold him down while riding his cock.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Olive

  Needless to say, I ended up following orders and changing my clothes. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice. Soren had left my dress in tatters.

  But I refused to remain holed up in my room while the rest of Winter Ridge partied below me.

  After slipping on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I left my room and was halfway down the stairs when Soren’s tall form caught my eye, his forearm resting against a wall and his head angled down.

  Two more steps and I was low enough to see just who he had caged in front of him, both confusion and rage flooding me to see that it had taken him all of ten minutes to forget what he’d just done to me before moving on to the next girl.

  My confusion, however, wasn’t about how quickly he could move on - because, really, that shouldn’t have surprised me - but more due to the fact that the girl he was smiling at like she hung the moon was none other than Camilla Hughes.

  At least it wasn’t Becky, although I had a feeling she was still very much busy with either Quinton or Grady.

  The night was still young and there was plenty of time for Soren to show me how little I mattered by pulling the new bitch queen into his lap.

  While stepping down the remaining steps, another emotion waltzed in to dance with the others: Hope.

  If Camilla was here, that meant Nolan must be too and I was happy that I’d finally have the chance to talk to him about our fight. Maybe even convince him to come home.

  I didn’t waste any time walking up to them, my focus on Camilla more than Soren, even though it took effort to ignore him.

  “Hey. Did Nolan come with you?”

  You couldn’t look at Camilla without reaching the conclusion she deserved Grady’s crude assessment of her as luxury snatch. With caramel curls that framed her angled face, pale skin that looked as soft as silk, and green eyes that glowed behind thick, long lashes, she was the epitome of desirable.

  What made it even less fair was that she had a body that plastic surgeons used as an example of perfection, her breasts tight and high, her waist thin, and her hips so supple they balanced out her round ass.

  Not only that, but the woman was dressed to the nines, everything about her screaming money.

  Instantly, I kind of hated her.

  Eyes sliding from Soren’s face to mine, the skin crinkled between them as she stared at me like I was too far down the social ladder to speak to her. “I haven’t seen Nolan in a week.”

  Surprise shot my eyebrows up my face. “What? But Quinton and Grady said-“

  Soren’s hand locked over my arm before I could complete the sentence.

  Expertly navigating me to stand behind him and away from Camilla, he leaned down to whisper something in her ear before pushing away from the wall and turning to me.

  “We have somewhere to be,” he said before tugging me along behind him toward the back of the house.

  “Wait.”

  Attempting to turn back to ask Camilla where Nolan had gone, I wasn’t given the opportunity. Soren continued leading me through the house, past the family room where I noticed Quinton and Grady were missing, and through the back door leading to the large pool that was too cold to swim in this time of year.

  Groups of people cluttered the deck, drinks in hand, little clusters of laughter and conversation that we passed as Soren continued pulling me forward. We reached the grassy area beyond the pool just as Soren grabbed my shoulders and spun me to face the house.

  “What are you doing? Let go of me.”

  He refused, instead choosing to lean down and speak against my ear. “Your wish, my command.”

  My brows tugged together at the cryptic statement, but I didn’t have time to question him when people starting gasping and laughing around me, all of their heads tipping up so they could stare at the balcony off my parent’s old bedroom that looked over the pool.

  “All eyes up here!”

  Quinton stood behind the cement half wall railing, his hair even more of a mess, as if someone had been running their hands through it. Briefly glancing down at Soren and me, he waited for only a second before facing the growing crowd again.

  More kids poured out of the house, all of them finding empty spots to fill until my entire backyard was packed to the brim.

  I caught site of Kendall and Shea standing near the pool, the video coming to mind, which made my heart jump into my throat that we all were being gathered for a show at their expense.

  Attempting to pull away from Soren was useless. He had his hands locked down on my shoulders ensuring that no matter what happened now, I wouldn’t look away.

  My body went rigid as the balcony doors behind Quinton swung open. Would they roll out a large screen TV? Or did these guys spend a shit load of money on a projector so they could drop down a sheet to act as a screen?

  Unable to glance
back to see if a projector was being manned, I swallowed hard.

  Relief flooded me when, instead of a television or a sheet being dragged out, a half naked blonde was directed to stand next to Quinton instead.

  Two quick blinks and I cleared my vision enough to understand that the blonde was Becky. Even from a distance, you couldn’t miss that she was crying.

  “Hey, Soren,” Quinton called out, yelling loud enough to be heard above the sudden low hum of conversation amongst the crowd. “What do we do with asshole pledges who don’t know how to keep their big mouths shut?”

  Soren’s fingers drummed over my shoulders in time with my thready pulse.

  Judging by both of them being half dressed, I assumed Quinton had taken Becky up there to show her a good time. It pissed me off since that was my parents’ room.

  Despite the time that had passed since they died, neither Nolan nor I could stomach moving their things out for one of us to take the master. That bitch had been on my mother’s bed and I could feel indignant heat filter through my body because of it.

  “We hang them up and leave them to rot,” Soren answered, his deep voice booming over my head.

  Fear crawled in to replace the anger. I tried to turn again to glance at Soren’s face, but he clamped down hard enough to prevent it.

  Leaning down, he said, “Just watch and enjoy the show.”

  No, no, no, no, no. I didn’t ask for anybody to be hurt. Or for anybody to be strung up for that matter. What in the hell were they doing?

  Quinton palmed his forehead like Soren’s answer had reminded him of something. “That’s right.”

  That cold wind started blowing inside of me again and I could have sworn I saw Teagan’s dead eyes staring straight into mine.

  “Soren...”

  The knot in my throat choked my voice. Clearing it, I tried again. “Please. Stop this. I didn’t want you to-“

  One hand released my shoulder to cover my mouth. He didn’t bother saying anything back.

  Quinton laughed and held up a noose fashioned from rope.

  And in my head, I could hear Teagan screaming.

  This had to stop. There was no way in hell I’d allow them to what? Kill somebody in front of me? Is this how Teagan and Maia died? Was it all a fucked up game played as entertainment for Soren and his pledges?