“Shut up, Talon. No talking, just move those talented fingers.”
I pick up the speed, thrusting my fingers in and out of her as fast as I can. The sound of my hand slapping against her pussy is loud in the quiet closet. I slow down only so that my palm can rub against her clit which each thrust.
Her walls clench around my digits, and I know she’s close. I pull out and rub them up and down her tiny nub like I’m starring in the guitar solo and showing off to the crowd. She bites her lip as she grabs my wrist, moving my hand up and down harder against her pussy.
My lips find hers as she cries out. I feel her pussy spasm, and she comes with a sweet but low cry as her cum soaks my hand.
Penelope grasps my wrist and brings my hand up to her mouth. She sucks my middle finger between her lips, tasting herself. She pulls my hand back, freeing my finger from her plump lips only to move it to my mouth and push my index finger inside.
“Taste what you can’t have, Talon,” she murmurs, straightening her panties and skirt.
I raise a brow at her and grab my cock, rubbing it through my jeans, a silent question on if she’s going to return the favor.
I should have known better. Because she reaches down and cups my dick with a hard squeeze. “Naughty boys who stalk and push their TAs don’t get rewards,” she murmurs, eyes sharp. “And don’t you dare make yourself come when I leave, Talon. I’ll know.”
“Baby—” I groan, but she shushes me with a finger on my lips.
“Uh uh. You want to chase and play with the girl from Velvet? Then that’s what you get. Don’t disobey me, Talon.” With that, she leaves me hard and soaking my boxers with precum, standing in the supply closet as she holds her head high and steps out into the hallway.
The door shuts behind her, and I’m left standing in the dark, heartbeat still somewhere in my throat.
The air in the closet smells like her—heat and perfume and defiance. My hands are shaking. My jaw aches from clenching too hard. I breathe through it, slow and shallow, because if I move too fast, I’ll punch a wall or go find her again.
She played me. And I liked it. That’s the worst part.
I press the back of my head against the door, eyes shut, trying to cool the fire still crawling through my skin. Every nerve’s alive, begging for release. She’s got me wound tighter than a damn spring.
When I finally step out, the hallway feels too bright. Too normal. A girl walks past, laughs at something on her phone, and I have to look away before I bite out something I’ll regret.
By the time I make it outside, the sky’s starting to dim, streaks of orange leaking over the rooftops. I walk until I hit the parking lot, climb into my car, and just sit there with the engine off.
My reflection in the windshield looks tired. I shouldn’t care this much. Not about her. Not when my own family’s a bigger mess than anything Penelope could throw at me.
I start the car and drive nowhere, letting the city blur past. The roads here all look the same—perfect lawns, perfect sidewalks, everything pretending to be fine.
Exactly like Mom.
Mom’s always been obsessed with “fine.”
Fine grades, fine friends, fine image. Everything’s for show. Even her marriages.
Dad used to joke that if she could, she’d collect husbands like handbags—a new one every season. I didn’t get the joke until I was older and realized he wasn’t exaggerating.
My dad died.
With the second, we went broke, and she divorced him.
The third one “vanished.”
And now there’s Chad—smiling, kind, completely unaware he’s standing on a trapdoor.
She’s keeping Minxy locked away at that school for a reason. She says it’s for structure, discipline, and a good education. But G doesn’t buy it, and neither do I. Mom doesn’t do anything without an angle.
If she’s keeping my sister isolated, it’s not for her own good—it’s for control. The more I think about it, the more it fits. She’s hiding something.
Maybe she’s already planning for after the wedding—locking in Chad’s money, securing her next move. Minxy’s just leverage. A perfect daughter she can parade around when needed, and hide when she’s inconvenient.
I roll down the window, let the wind cut through the heat pressing on my skin. G’s words echo in my head.“Don’t do anything stupid.”Too late. I’ve been being stupid since I got home.
