Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Students shuffled behind me in the crowded corridors, locker doors slamming. Shoes squeaking.
I’d really hoped that getting Brown to lick my ass would have gotten me suspended, but no. That dickwheeze had seen right through me. He knew giving me three months’ worth of detention was way worse than a three-day suspension-vacation.
So, there I stood in the hallway, turning the combination to my dented, dick-graffitied locker.
Wolf clapped me on the shoulder. “Dude, the football team is giving Baites so much crap about getting turned down by Lola.”
Which meant the whole team would think they could ask her out, too.
Oh, what a motherfucking tangled web we weave when we try to pretend we don’t care who dicks down our used-to-be girl.
I fought the jealousy simmering below the surface as I put away my books and recanted the memory of Sid’s stuffed head rolling to the floor. But it blew like Mount Vesuvius the second I turned around and saw Daniel Baites.
Maybe it wasn’t so much that he’d asked her out.
Maybe it was the lack of respect. Or maybe it was the fact that she had cried on me the other night, and for the first time, I really saw how sorry she was. Whatever it was, it had opened that festering wound right back up and had me marching toward Baites like a death moth to a soon-to-be-dying flame.
He shoved his football bag into his locker.
Before he could close the door, I snatched him by the collar of his jacket, spun him around, and pinned him to the metal.
He flinched, trying to block an anticipated punch. There was that respect…
“Brookes told me you wouldn’t eat my face!” The high, panicked pitch of his voice sounded like I had his balls in my fist, trying to castrate him with brute force.
“This isn’t eating your face—” I held his arm in place and slammed the locker door on his fingers. “Is it, dipshit?”
He let out a howl.
The scuff of sneakers in the packed hallway silenced, and I let go of the door. As soon as it popped open, Daniel’s bitchass sank to the dirty floor, his hand clutched to his chest.
“Don’t fucking talk to her,” I said, then turned around, meeting the horrified gazes of the other students in the hall.
At least these assholes would know better than to ask if Lola and I were still a thing. Because honestly, it didn’t matter. I could accept she wasn’t mine all I wanted, but she’d always be my territory. The stench of my mark would sure as hell stay put.
When I shifted from the lockers, the crowd immediately parted.
Wolf stood to the side of the hall, smirking. “So, you aren’t over her,” he said, falling in step beside me.
I wanted to live in denial and avoid the ridicule. I’d decapitated a sloth, for fuck’s sake! “I’m pissed at the lack of respect.”
“Lack of…” He bent over, laughing his stumpy ass off as students rushed down the hall to get to class. “Lack of respect? Wow.”
I socked him in the gut. Hard. “That’s right, cocksucker.”
He socked me right back. “It’s the lack of fucking balls.”
And my brain short-circuited, sparks and smoke shooting out in every direction. It was a lack of balls.
The rest of the guys had fucked their way through girls because they wanted to. I’d done it because I’d been a desperate little, hurt bitch looking for something to make me forget her. A druggie in withdrawal, searching for some form of shitty relief in their cycle of addiction. Over and over and over again. I was addicted to her, and there was no damn cure.
I’d just sat down in Smith’s class when the secretary called my name over the loudspeaker.
And that time… my ass got expelled.
***
Four o’clock in the afternoon.
Zepp was gone.
I was shitfaced.
Expelled and shitfaced and watching Stranger Things from where Lola had evidently left off. This show was weird. Good but weird…I almost didn’t hear the front door bang shut. Something dropped in the entranceway.
“You asshole!” Lola hurtled over the arm of the couch and snatched the remote from my lap, turning off the TV. “I haven’t watched that episode.” She pushed up on a huff and crossed her legs.
My gaze dragged over her smooth thighs. I thought about having them wrapped around my head while I buried my face in her pussy, and my blood flow shifted. Fast.
Friends. Fucking friends, friends, friends… I took the last sip of my beer, then chucked the bottle to the floor. Screw friends. “Take off your shorts,” I said.
Her brows pulled together. “What?”
“I need to taste your pussy.” I slid off the couch and dropped to my knees in front of her, lowering her zipper.
Was it irrational? I didn’t give a shit. It had been a month since I’d had my tongue in her pussy, and right then, it was all I wanted. It was what she got for crying on me…