I've already seen her tits. Now I want to see the rest.
She stops at the second row, taking an empty seat in the middle.
"Move," I tell the kid next to me when the guy beside her starts chatting her up.
"What?"
"This fucking seat is taken. Find somewhere else to sit."
He only considers arguing for a second before gathering his things and moving a few rows down, calling me afucking dickunder his breath.
I'll allow it. He isn't wrong.
"Hey, Saige!" I call out.
I watch her freeze, slowly turning toward the back of the classroom, a mix of anger and fear on her face.
I've missed the fear.
"Get your ass up here."
She hesitates before replying, "No, I think I'm good here."
"No, you're not. Let's go, killer. You don't want to play these games with me again."
Seething, she picks up her things and moves to the back of the classroom with about a hundred sets of eyes on her, all whispering.
"The attitude was unnecessary," I say as she sets her things down.
"The entire fucking spectacle was unnecessary!" she hisses. "Killer, really?"
I shrug. "Just do what I say the first time."
"Why are you even in this class? It's a first year core class."
"It wasn't last year," I lie. "But this is going to work out really well for me, actually." I close my computer, leaning back in my chair. "Because now I don't need to worry about this class. You're going to be taking all the notes and doing my assignments for me."
"No, I'm not."
"Yeah, you are, killer. And if you think about what I could make you do instead, it's really not that bad. You already have to take notes, right?"
She sighs, pursing her lips and shaking her head, but she opens her laptop, and I know she's resigned to her fate.
"Good girl," I whisper as the professor takes to the podium, introducing herself.
"I just think you could really benefit from paying attention in a class like this. Maybe you'd be able to figure out what thefuck is wrong with you. They might even make pills for it," she whispers, eyes straight forward.
I lean in, close enough that my nose grazes her ear. "I happen to like what's wrong with me, and I know they don't make pills for it."
Her phone buzzes against the desk, and she grabs it, quickly silencing it, but not before I see the text message on the screen.
DAX Did you get anything to eat?
So, he's texting her now. I try to decide if it bothers me or not, and determine it's okay. I want her to be reminded that she belongs to us now, and she won't be able to get out of this, even when we aren't around.
"Give me your phone."
"No."
