Samantha ignores me, bringing her hand down and opening the lips of her pussy, and sliding a finger in and out.
Eager to get her the fuck out of here, I survey my room looking for her clothes, spotting them on the couch.
Storming over, I grab them from the heap they’re in and stomp over to my bed, throwing them in her face.
She squeals as her fingers slip from inside in time to catch them before they smack her in the face. “What the absolute fuck Wes?” she snarls.
Tired of the day and her bullshit. “Get your skanky ass out of my fucking house before I toss you out naked,” I command.
I can’t believe the new level she’s willing to sink to get attention.
“No,” she shrieks, “You haven’t touched me in over a month. I’m tired of your shit.”
“And I’m just tired of you. Now get the fuck out. By the time I get out of the shower, you better not be here,” I shout, turning and heading for my bathroom.
But because Sam is who she is, she doesn’t know when to shut the hell up.
I hear her movements before her words.
“Fuck you, Wes! You and your merry band of dicks think you can toss me aside because some shiny new bitch moved to town. You’re as fucked as she is,” she screams.
Wheeling around, I yank her naked body out of my bed by her throat. “You keep testing me. You somehow have deemed yourself worthy of something you’ve never been positioned for.” My grip around her neck tightens, my eyes boring down on her, and lust fills her eyes. I forgot how much she gets off on shit like this— how much we both do. But I’m not interested in Sam. I never have been.
I loosen my grip long enough to snap, “It’s not going to be you. You’re not going to beThe Chosen.You know it. So, go through the process like everyone else, and for once in your life, have some fucking self-respect.” Then I tighten my hold, squeezing until she realizes I’m not doing this for her pleasure— this is not fucking game.
Her hands fly up, trying to claw at my fingers, but I hold firm until she’s seconds away from losing air. It’s time she understands this isn’t a joke. I no longer have to entertain her bullshit. Right before her last breaths can be drawn, I toss her on the floor at the foot of the bed, and she lands with a thud.
I hear her gasp for air and get to her feet. The sounds of her picking up her clothes satisfies me enough I finally make my way to the bathroom.
Pausing at the threshold, I bark without looking back, “Now get the fuck out of my house.”
* * *
“I can’t believeshe was in your bed,” Owen says, doubling over in laughter.
“Laugh it up, asshole. You each have to take her out at some point. At least I’m done with her for now,” I counter.
That sobers the room, “Why would you put that in the atmosphere like that? You fucking dick,” Lev mumbles.
The noise of the lunchroom filters around us.
“That’s what you fuckheads get. All that taunting, have fun,” I snark and get up from the table, leaving them to sulk.
After that bullshit with Sam last night, I was looking forward to football practice today. She’s at least giving me a wide berth, but I don’t trust it. She’s never been one to take anything lying down.
I’m exiting the lunch room when someone walks in. I smell her before I take her in. I hear Ariah’s gasp of surprise as I steady her.
“Shoot. Sor-. Oh, Wes. It’s you.” Her face drops.
I sigh. I deserve that reaction. It’s not like I’ve given her any reason to think I see her differently.
“Sorry, I should’ve been watching where I was going,” I start. “Are you okay?”
Her brows furrow further. She’s trying to figure out if this is bullshit or not.
Grabbing the back of my neck and rubbing, I say, “Listen. I was a jerk when we first met.”
“No, you were a dick, a grade-A level douche,” she corrects, crossing her arms and bringing my attention to her chest as her plump pink lips thin. I work hard to keep my eyes connected with her serious ones.
