All the days were bad ones.
Especially since Babygirl had gone away.
I accidentally cut myself, and a tiny drop of scarlet welled up on my finger. I stared at it, then dragged my eyes away and got up off the stool, watching the Krew. They stood motionless, like wax statues with their backs straight and limbs tensed.
Why did they have those disturbed looks on their faces?
I strode slowly but decisively over to Jennifer and looked her up and down. My Blondie was beautiful. Our Blondie, I should say, because all three of us fucked her, not just me.
I stopped just a short distance from her body. She was far shorter than I was, even with her high heels on. Her bright eyes fastened on my lips before moving to my stormy gaze. I could smell her arousal but also the fear that twisted her guts.
I leaned my head to one side and brought my injured finger up close to her lovely mouth.
“Suck,” I ordered in a soft voice, and she breathed in sharply.
I could feel her warm, heavy breathing on my skin.
She hesitated for a few seconds, unsure what to do, before gulping and then opening her lips, allowing me to slip my finger inside her mouth. My index finger made contact with the liquid heat of her tongue, and Jennifer teased it, sucking just the way I’d told her to. She did it with uncharacteristic apprehension.
“I’ve been patient with you tonight,” I whispered into her ear, my voice sensual yet menacing. My bare chest brushed the tits covered by her leather jacket, and she shivered. I felt nothing.
“But it’s not going to happen again. Don’t push me, Jen.” I pressed a kiss to the place just under her ear to reinforce the message I wanted her to receive. Then I pulled back, dragging my finger from her mouth with a smirk.
***
I awoke in a foul mood after a sleepless night. Just like every other damn day.
I’d gone to school, attended my classes, and now I was searching the mansion for Logan.
I hurried to his room, needing urgently to talk with him. My brother was the only person I confided in about my problems or any thoughts that were troubling me. I threw the door to his bedroom open but stopped immediately when I spotted Alyssa, grinding intently on him as the two of them kissed passionately.
“What the hell!” The girl turned bright red and immediately leaped off Logan. Fortunately, they were both still fully dressed. I’d interrupted them before they’d gotten too far.
“Neil!” My brother shouted at me, furious. He hated it when I barreled into his room like a tank, never knocking or giving a shit what he was doing in there.
“I need to talk to you.” I walked into the room with a cheeky smile and took a look at his girlfriend’s bare legs, exposed when the dress she was wearing had ridden up on her thighs.
Logan lay there, hair a mess, his lips smeared with her lipstick, and gave me a threatening look, which did absolutely nothing to intimidate me. Naturally.
“Can’t you knock? Jesus!” he snapped, sitting up and fussing with his hair. Alyssa swallowed hard and got out of the bed, fixing the hem of her fluttering dress. I had no idea where they were in their relationship—they’d been dating since Logan’s accident—but I doubted it was love. I suspected my brother was just passing the time with her. He was attracted to her, but not much more.
“You’ll have other fucks. I”—I gestured to myself—“am more important.” And that was the truth.
Logan was always there for me, just like I was always there for him. Women were a secondary concern, and, right then, Alyssa needed to make herself scarce so I could have a moment in private with my brother.
Logan rolled his eyes at me and sat up on the end of the bed, irritated.
“I’ll call you later, baby,” he murmured, giving her a reassuring smile, and I made a put-out face.
Why did men always use the same pet names for women? I’d never have done that. I would rather find something personal, something unique for the people I deem important. I was a nonconformist; I valued originality. I couldn’t have adapted to the typical couple lifestyle or behaviors.
“Okay, sweetie. Later,” she answered gently, and I shuddered.
Sweetie…this was worse than I’d thought. I sighed and rested my ass against the desk, waiting impatiently for Alyssa to get out. Once she did, Logan turned all his anger on me, shooting me a glare that had me grinning.
“You’ve got lipstick right there, sweetie,” I taunted him, pointing at my bottom lip. He huffed through his nose as he stood up. Fortunately, he could now walk without crutches and only wore the brace under his pants to keep from pushing himself too hard. He was almost back to normal.
“Not funny, asshole!” he groused, heading for the bathroom.
