by R. A. Smyth
When it’s my turn, I quickly call out Wilder’s name, ignoring the whispers and confused looks around the hall, everyone wondering who the hell Wilder is as the five of us get the fuck out of there.
“Wifey, I’m touched,” Wilder says dramatically, swinging his arm over my shoulder. “You chose me, out of all the reprobates in this place.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Cam grumbles from Wilder’s other side, looking decidedly pissed at the way his arm is slung around me. “She didn’t have a choice.”
“So what happens in this little tradition, then?” Wilder asks, ignoring Cam. “Do we get to make out in the hallway and grind on each other at school parties?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, making me laugh. I don’t know what it is about him, but despite his constant flirtiness, I can’t take him seriously. The flirty banter doesn’t meet his eyes and I know it’s all for show, to wind up the guys, or maybe because he thinks that’s what people expect from him. I’m not sure.
“Only if you want your teeth knocked out,” Mason growls.
“Basically, you eat breakfast with me and escort me to class, and we go to parties together. That’s pretty much it.” I shrug. “People just need to think we’re fake dating.”
“Fake engaged,” he corrects, earning another scowl from the guys.
“Not yet,” I remind him.
“Sounds pretty boring. I thought it would be so much dirtier than that.”
“I mean, it used to be.” I shrug.
“Before you all started one big gangbang.”
“Eww, gross.” I jam him in the rib with my elbow. “Hawk’s my brother.”
“Right, that would be a bit awkward, sorry, bro.” He tosses Hawk a pronounced frown, and I can tell Hawk has no idea how to respond to that, choosing instead to ignore him.
“Well, I guess I should get the Wifey to class then.” Wilder grins, well, wildly, earning more than one glare from the guys. “Don’t want her to be late.”
The rest of the week goes by in a blur. Between showing Wilder the ropes, catching up with Michael and Emilia, keeping on top of homework and carving time out for each of my guys, it’s hard to find a single moment of peace.
I have to admit, I actually quite like Wilder. He’s definitely a weird one, and most of the school seems wary of him. Hard not to be when he spends most of breakfast with his feet kicked up on the table, twirling a knife in his hands like a certifiable lunatic, but, I dunno, he speaks to a deeper part of me that I’ve kept carefully buried since my escape from the compound.
Of course, the guys all hate him with a passion. It doesn’t help that Wilder makes a point of skipping so far over the line of what the guys will tolerate him doing with me, that it’s nothing but a distant blur. Where Daniel only did the bare minimum of what was expected of him, Wilder has quickly weaved his way into my friendship group with Emilia and Michael, joining us for lunch most days and even inviting himself to our weekly movie night this weekend.
“Why does your father think a wife would keep you in line?” I ask Wilder. We’re sitting in the theater room, waiting for Emilia and Michael to arrive. I’ve tried to broach the subject a couple of times this week, but every time I mention his father or his past, he clams up. I can see him doing the same right now, closing himself off. It’s a feeling I know all too well, when someone pries into shit you don’t want them to see.
I expect him to shoot me down again, fobbing off my question with some fake-ass line, but he surprises me by actually opening up. “I got caught up in some shit last year; friends of mine died.”
That’s some heavy shit to deal with. The tight set of his jaw and guilt in his eyes emphasize how much he’s struggling to come to terms with whatever happened.
“My only friend died when we were kids,” I share with him. “After she died, I gave up. I more or less wrote myself off as dead. It took a long time before I remembered I was still alive.”
He stares at me thoughtfully. “Yeah, but I bet you didn’t kill her.”
As quick as it appeared, the vulnerability in his eyes disappears. Within the space of a blink, he’s pulled down his shutters and closed himself off. A maniacal grin splits his face. “So, tell me Sunshine. Something I’ve always wondered… Are girls into period sex, or is that just a guy fetish?”
I’m looking at him with wide eyes, confused out of my ever loving mind, when Emilia comes bouncing in, Michael following behind her.
“Hey guys. What’s going on?”
I break away from the intense stare-off with Wilder, ignoring his inappropriate question, as I smile at Emilia. “Hey. Nothing. What’s up?”
Michael glances furtively back and forth between Wilder and I before slipping into the seat on my other side, narrowly missing being squashed by Emilia’s ass as he sneaks in behind her to steal the seat.
She pouts before laughing it off, claiming the seat on his other side while Wilder starts up the movie he’d selected. It’s technically my turn, but I never know what to choose, and if Emilia suckers me into picking one more romcom, I’m going to throw a bitch fit. Thankfully, Wilder had the good sense to go for some action movie.
“Hey,” Michael whispers, smiling.
“Hey.”
“We should grab a coffee this week, just the two of us.”
“Sure, sounds good.”
Chapter 20
A week after we send off the footage to the authorities, we get the news we’ve been waiting for.
“Dad’s been arrested,” Mason announces as he comes barging into the apartment. I was kicking Hawk’s ass in some shooting game, while Cam showed Beck videos on his phone, and West tinkered on his laptop.
All of us immediately stop what we’re doing, sitting up and paying attention to Mason. “What? For real?” Cam exclaims.
“Yeah.” Grabbing the remote, Mason switches over to the TV, flicking on a local news channel.
“—day’s news, Frank Hayes, one of the founders of Nocturnal Enterprises, a high profile private security company, was arrested today, for the murder of Lacee Hamilton of Hamilton Jewelry. Police have not yet released any information regarding the case but they…”
“Fuck, this is really happening?” Cam gasps as we all stare wide eyed at the TV. I mean, this is what we wanted, but I’m not sure any of us really thought it would be that easy. Yeah, it’s only one family of the four out of the equation, but it’s a start.
Hawk’s phone goes off, and I pull my attention from the image of Frank Hayes being escorted into the police station in handcuffs on the TV, to look at him as he fishes it out of his pocket, and Mason mutes the television.
“Son, I’m sure you’ve heard the news by now.” Barton’s voice comes out loud and clear over the speakerphone.
“Yeah, we just saw it on the TV.”
He sighs wearily. “Yeah, it’s a disaster. Not what we need right now. We have lawyers on it though, everything will be fine. We’ll need all of you to step up in Frank’s absence.” There’s no emotion in Barton’s voice. Other than sounding stressed, he doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit bothered by the fact his friend and business partner is currently sitting in jail for murder. “Especially Mason. He will have to start taking on some of his father’s responsibilities. We will discuss it all when you come to the office for Easter break.”
He hangs up before Hawk can figure out how to respond to any of that.
“What does he mean, you’ll all have to step up? What are you going to have to do?” I stare at Hawk before swiveling my gaze to the others, but none of them appear to have the answers to my questions.
“No idea. Guess we’ll find out at Easter.”
***
West tugs me down the hallway and into his bedroom, backing me up to his bed as his lips press against mine. His tongue sweeps in to claim my mouth as I moan. Stepping back, he pushes me down onto the mattress and I bounce before he climbs on top of me, fusing his lips to mine again. His fingers trail over my clothes, slippin
g under my skirt until he’s rubbing circles around my clit, making fireworks ignite behind my eyelids.
I really don’t have time for this. I need to go and get ready for tonight, but I know the guys have been stressed out lately about this whole situation with Wilder, so if West needs this moment of comfort, to remind him that I’m all his, then so be it. I’m sure as hell not about to say no when he’s already got me soaring toward oblivion.
Pushing my panties to the side, he slides his fingers through my wetness, sinking deep inside me as he scissors his fingers, stretching me perfectly. “Always so fucking ready for me, aren’t you, Firefly?”
I moan my agreement as I ride his fingers, cresting quickly toward the edge. Just when I feel my core tightening, he pulls out of me, and I whimper when he chuckles darkly, climbing off me to move to his bedside table.
His body blocks whatever he’s doing, but a second later, I hear the drawer click shut and he comes back, pushing my thighs apart as he gets on his knees at the end of the bed, his mouth inches from where I really need him.
Holding eye contact with me, he leans in and swipes his tongue from my slit to clit before pushing his fingers back inside me, once again starting the ascent toward heaven. I’m quickly losing myself in his touch when I feel him push something into my pussy.
“What the…Ho-oly fuck,” I cry out when the thing starts vibrating. The extra stimulation has me hovering right on the precipice of an orgasm, and just when I expect West to send me soaring over the edge, he pulls back, tucks my panties back in place and flips down my skirt, stopping the incredible vibrations.
I gape up at him with love-drunk eyes, trying to unscramble my thoughts so I can work out what’s going on.
“What…why’d you stop?”
He smirks down at me, looking both deviant and wicked.
I press up onto my elbows, glowering at him as he leans down to hover over me, careful not to touch me.
“You didn’t think you deserved a reward right before you go off on a date with another man, did you?”
“So you’re sending me out there turned on and needy?!”
“Exactly.” His voice is a smug, seductive purr. He lifts up a small black remote and presses a button, and the vibrations start up again, making my body shiver as I moan. “And every time this goes off in your tight little pussy, you better think of me and remember exactly who owns you. Maybe, if you’re a good girl and don’t touch yourself all night, I’ll let you come when you get home.”
I whimper, so unbelievably turned on by his domineering tone and the little vibrating device inside me that’s doing crazy things to my pussy.
Pressing another button, the vibrations stop, and I can once again regulate my breathing as I clamber off the bed. “Now you better go get ready, wouldn’t want to be late for your date.” With a slap on the ass, he pushes me out the door with an evil chuckle, and I curse his name out in my head all the way back to my room.
An hour later, I’m showered, dressed, and sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant with Wilder and his father. The vibrator hasn’t gone off since I left the guys’ apartment, and I’m on tenterhooks with every passing second, waiting for it to start up. I have no idea how I’m going to keep from embarrassing myself when it does.
“So, you two have been getting to know one another?” his father inquires. I really don’t like this man. The way he catalogues my every movement has the hairs standing to attention along the back of my neck, and every time I look at my steak knife, I imagine driving it into his neck.
“Yes. I’m her guy of the month,” Wilder answers while I sip on my glass of water. Ugh, I wish this evening would hurry up and be over already. If I’d had any say, I wouldn’t be here at all, but of course, I didn’t, and, not wanting to piss off our parents any more than we already have, I have no option but to just grin and bear it.
“I didn’t attend Pacific Prep,” Benjamin explains, looking at me—his eyes have rarely left me all evening—“so I don’t understand this tradition of theirs. Sounds emasculating to me.” He grumbles the last bit under his breath, and somehow, I doubt he would say the same if I was Wilder’s girl of the month.
Wilder just shrugs his shoulders, not giving a shit if it’s emasculating or not. He’s not one to follow the rules or give a shit about societal norms. He follows his own path in life, not caring if it pisses other people off.
I jump, gasping when the vibrator in my pussy comes to life, mumbling an apology as I take another sip of my water, ignoring both men’s eyes as they watch me carefully.
Thankfully our starters arrive then, and even though eating is the last thing on my mind, I’m grateful for the distraction as the two of them discuss something or other—I’m too busy clenching my thighs and wishing I could sneak off to the bathroom to rub one out to pay attention to what they’re saying.
The meal goes on, and I slowly get more and more worked up every time the device starts up. Sweat coats my skin and I’ve drunk about a gallon of water in an attempt to stave off the moans of pleasure that keep creeping up the back of my throat. My panties are soaked through, and I’ve never been so grateful for a bra as my stiff nipples chafe against the fabric. I’m absolutely going to murder West once I get home—after he’s made me come at least five times.
“Are you a virgin, Elizabeth?” Benjamin’s question comes out of left field, making me choke on my drink.
“Excuse me? I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I snap.
“Well, it is if I’m going to sign a contract that makes you a part of my family.
“Dad,” Wilder hisses. “Everyone has sex before marriage these days.”
His father’s gross, beady eyes stay focused on me. “How many guys have you been with?”
I grit my teeth, refusing to answer as I glare daggers at him.
“Dad,” Wilder hisses again, but his words fall on deaf ears.
“It’s only a number. One, two, five? How many?”
“I dunno.” I shrug casually. “I lost count.”
A spark flashes through his eyes that makes goosebumps form along my skin, but it’s gone so quickly I can’t place what it was.
“I’ll be asking for an STD screen and pregnancy test before the wedding then,” his father responds blandly, all business. I can’t shake off whatever that was I saw in his eyes though.
With the exception of that weird blip, the rest of dinner is uneventful. Benjamin hardly spares me anything more than a passing glance, talking with his son for most of the meal.
“Excuse me, I’m just going to freshen up,” I say after dessert, smiling politely even as the vibrating demon in my pussy starts up again. Fuck, I’ve never been so desperate to come in all my life. I swear to God, I’m not going to let West come ever again without edging him for a good fucking hour beforehand.
Slipping into the bathroom stall, my hand snakes under the waistband of my jeans, hovering above my throbbing clit. I debate back and forth between touching myself or not, finally groaning when I decide West would probably be able to tell and make me go all night without a proper orgasm.
Frustrated, horny, and so fucking done with this stupid dinner, I throw open the stall door causing it to bounce off the wall, but I barely hear it as I stand frozen.
What the fuck? Am I seriously so turned on that I missed hearing this asshole follow me in here?
“What are you doing in here?” I snap, immediately on the defense as Benjamin Clearwater leans casually against the wall in front of the bathroom door, his arms crossed over his chest as he blocks my exit with his body.
“You and I both know why I’m here.” He leers at me in a disgusting way. “You’ve been gagging for it all night.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off, “Ah ha, no need to lie. You’ve been squirming in your seat all night, thinking about my cock.”
I barely contain my snort, knowing that knock to his ego will only make this situation ten times worse. It’s sure as fuck not
his cock I’ve been thinking about all night.
“You’re a little old for my tastes, but I’m not one to disappoint someone as gorgeous as you.”
I’m a little old for his tastes? What the fuck does that mean? I’m barely legal, and he looks like he’s in his forties.
“Besides, you were meant to be mine all those years ago, so it’s only fair I take that pussy for a test run. It’s the least I deserve for how long I’ve had to wait.’
“What?” I croak out, my head spinning off its axis at all the confusing information he’s throwing my way.
“Well, technically, you were always meant to end up with Wilder, but you should have been mine first.”
As bile burns its way up the back of my throat, my head spins with everything he’s saying, and I decide I’m now officially done with this sick conversation. I force myself to hold still as he prowls toward me. I know that look in his eye, I’ve seen it more times than I care to remember. If I resist or fight back, he’ll only restrain me, and I need my arms and legs free to escape him.
The stupid fucking demon in my pussy chooses that moment to start up again and I swear it’s more intense than it was before, making me whimper as the sick fuck in front of me grasps two fistfuls of my ass cheeks in his hands, using his hold to grind me against his pathetic half-dick.
“Yeah, I knew when I looked at you that you were a dirty slut,” he growls in my ear, squeezing my ass to the point of pain.
Pushing past the confusing sensations between his grimy presence and the fucking vibrator, I hitch my leg over his hip. Unfortunately, it opens up my pelvis more, giving him more ample to rub himself against me and I have to push past the vomit in my mouth as I lean in, brushing my tits against his shirt so I can reach into my boots and lift out my pocket knife—see, this is why you should never go anywhere unarmed; not even the bathroom.
