Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“How was it?” I finally have to ask.
“Fucking amazing. She didn’t know what she was doing, obviously, but she’s a quick learner. It was definitely worth the time I spent teaching her.”
And now I can’t look at him, because all I’ll be able to imagine is Emma on her knees for him, not for me. Not the way she’s been in my mind so many times. Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to fuck with her when I wasn’t around?
“You’re not pissed, are you?” He’s not screwing around anymore. No more laughter. “I didn’t mean to step on your toes or anything like that.”
My pride doesn’t like the sound of it. “Who’s stepping on anybody’s toes? No, it’s just I kind of wish I knew you were going to do that.”
“I didn’t even know I was going to do it until I was in the middle of doing it,” he admits. “What, do you wish you were there? Do you wish you could’ve gotten in on that?”
Yes. I do. If I couldn’t be the first or the only, I at least would have liked to be there. “Do you see yourself doing it again? Getting her that way, if you know what I mean?”
There’s no hesitation. “I want to try. Believe me, get those lips wrapped around you, and you would understand.”
I’m getting thicker just thinking about it. She might have gotten on her knees for my brother, but at least now I know it’s possible. “From now on,” I decide, “if we’re going to fuck around with her, we do it together. No one-on-one stuff.”
“Yeah. That makes sense to me.” He didn’t even take a second to think about it. He must really be looking forward to the next time with her.
Which makes me look forward to it, too. Because now it’s more than a fantasy. Now there’s a chance of making it real.
15
PRESTON
“I knew she wouldn’t be here today. I told her not to come in.” Easton looks proud of himself after making that announcement once we’ve met up after class, even folding his arms and everything the way Dad does when he is feeling full of himself.
I don’t know what irritates me more. That resemblance to Dad, or the way he talks, like he’s got something special with Emma now. Because he drove her home yesterday. Big fucking deal. She sucked my dick yesterday, but I’m not walking around acting like we have some special connection now.
“Maybe she really is sick.” Which makes me wonder if spending time with her was such a good idea—but if she was contagious, we would probably have symptoms by now, right?
As usual, things aren’t adding up, and maybe that’s what has me feeling uneasy. Uncomfortable, on edge. We don’t even have to volunteer today since we doubled our hours on Tuesday. Dad wasn’t a huge fan of that, but he really didn’t have any arguments that would make a difference, either. “There’s nothing technically wrong with what you did, but don’t get cute again,” he warned at the time.
Another example of why it’s always better to explain things later than to ask for permission beforehand.
Someone calls out behind us as we walk across the quad. “Hey! Wanna come over for a swim?”
Looking over my shoulder, I see Briggs walking hand in hand with Wren. The two of them are practically glued together night and day. It’s something I’m getting used to—at first, it was almost too bizarre. A glance at Easton tells me he doesn’t like the idea, which makes me feel better about not liking it. “I don’t think so,” I reply, shaking my head. “Next time.”
“I thought you guys weren’t volunteering today!” he shouts.
And that means there’s nothing else for us to do? “Next time,” I tell him again, turning around and continuing toward the parking lot. He needs to let it drop. I’m not in the mood to explain myself, not that I ever am, really.
“You don’t feel like going for a swim?” Easton is strangely quiet, hands thrust in his pockets, shoulders hunched.
Of course not, and he knows it. Just like I knew without him saying a word, he wouldn’t want to go to Briggs’s house. A month ago? Hell, even two weeks ago? We would’ve jumped at the chance, because swimming usually leads to hanging out with pizza and beer and bullshitting through the night. That’s always a good time.
Things are different now. Whether or not my brother and I can put the whole thing into words—which neither of us has been able to do yet. Yes, we agreed yesterday we wouldn’t do anything with or to Emma on our own, but… no matter how much of my time and energy go toward thinking about her, I don’t have the words to explain it to Easton. I wouldn’t know where to start. Hey, I think I’m obsessed. I might be addicted to this girl. I don’t know where the line is between making her sorry she was ever born and making her do things to me.