Hate being late.
Not that I’m into parties. Hockey’s my life. But these things do provide me with what I need on occasion—a few drinks and a tight hole to rut.
I grab my half-hard dick and give a little squeeze. Luckily, some brunette in a skintight black dress that barely covers her ass looks my way. I raise my glass and beckon her over.
She smiles, not that I care. I’m too busy deciding what hole of hers I want to use. And when she sits on my thigh instead of on the couch, I decide on her pussy.
But no sooner do my fingers start trailing up her inner thigh when I spot that motherfucking nobody from Composition class. The asshole who, instead of fearing me, sat right next to me.
Kid’s out of his mind.
My eyes narrow, both in anger and to focus. He looks out of place. Most people dressed up, but this idiot is wearing a T-shirt under an open button-down, loose fitting khakis, and a pair of Vans.
I clench my jaw and continue staring. He’s going to pay for yesterday’s antic. Maybe sex isn’t what I need. It’s a different kind of toy.
A different kind of prey.
A little mouse that will be lucky to make it out of here alive.
“Who’s that?” Knight asks.
I give a small shrug. “Someone who’s going to wish he never ran into me.”
Jackson’s now also looking, as is my cousin. Walsh is too busy fucking the redhead’s throat brutally. Kind of jealous right now.
The little mouse is surrounded by two other nerds. At least his friends seem to understand the concept of a party, grabbing drinks and chugging them. He just stands there, hands in his pockets and a stupid half-smile on his face.
As if he’s honoringuswith his presence.
Knight gives a predatory laugh, like a serial killer who’s asked if he’s about to disembowel the person he’s captured. “Need help destroying the mundane little meat suit?”
“No.” The little mouse is no threat. Plus, Knight and I have a different way of torturing people. “I got this one.”
Without any warning, I shove the whore off my lap and she lands on her ass.
“Hey!”
I just step over her. Does the dumb bitch really think I care about her complaints?
“Asshole!” A second later she squeaks and I look over my shoulder.
Knight’s got his fingers in her hair, yanking her head back. “Watch who you call an asshole.”
I walk, eyes fixed on the irritating freckled face of my target. This is all on him. He entered my domain.
The fool is now holding his red solo cup carelessly, making my jobsomuch easier. I pick up my pace and as soon as I’m close enough, I knock the cup forward.
Not a flashy move, just enough to get the game rolling.
I chuckle low and threatening as red stains the front of his T-shirt, his face and hair also getting splashed by whatever the hell he was drinking.
Ugh, not surprised he’s drinking some low-end spiked punch.
“What the fuck!” He looks down at himself, body frozen still, eyes wide as red liquid drips down the length of him.
“Oops. Didn’t see you there.”
All around us, people scatter. But a few remain, including his friends, and though the female is staring daggers at me, she keeps her trap shut.
