Page 21 of Outcast

The trollop and yank barbs continued, as did other more colorful insults, based on articles posted to the Mercia-Net whenever Mom appeared in the society pages with Rudolph. The level of vitriol thrown at me made me think the girls were jealous they hadn’t snagged a millionaire for themselves.

One evening the next week, I’d finished my prep early and went down to the common room to rest. The room was deserted, and I lay in the semi-darkness on one of the plush sofas. Footsteps shuffled inside, accompanied by whispered voices.

“What did Henry say about me?” asked Charlotte’s whiny voice.

“Oh, the usual.” Low tones curled around my senses and made my nerve endings tingle. This had to be Blake. “You’re beautiful, and he’s too intimidated to make conversation.”

I scrambled under a coffee table, pulled out my smartphone, and recorded.

“How do I get Henry to warm to me?” she asked.

“Give him time,” replied Blake. “The more I bring you up in conversation, the more curious he becomes. He asked me if you fancied anyone.”

“Really?” her voice rose several octaves. “What did you say?”

“I hinted that you might like him.”

I furrowed my brow. Blake playing matchmaker? He seemed the type to sleep with the girls himself, not pass them onto his friends. None of this made sense. Why would anyone want to help Charlotte snag Henry? The girl had no redeeming features unless being bitchy was a virtue.

“Then what did he say?” Her voice was breathy with excitement.

“He was delighted.” Blake’s voice lost its seductive quality and now sounded flat.

I lay on my belly and rested my weight on my elbows. They made an odd pair. Blake stood a few feet away from the door in a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark, skinny jeans that showed off his lean, muscular figure. The huge fireplace to their right provided enough illumination to showcase the perfect curve of his ass. Charlotte stood about a foot away, clad in a white crewneck shirt that clung to her every curve and accentuated her breasts. Her miniskirt revealed stocky thighs that tapered off into thin calves.

She pressed her hands on Blake’s chest. “What else—”

He placed a finger over her lips. “Enough, Lottie. I’m helping you with your campaign to ensnare Henry. What will you do for me?”

Charlotte tilted her head up and grinned. “Let’s go to your room.”

“No.” He trailed his finger down her bottom lip and onto her chin. “Here.”

“Why?” she panted.

He pulled her hand to his crotch. “Because I love the danger.”

“Lock the door, so no one sees us.”

He chuckled, the sound rich and dark. “Be quick, or someone will.”

Before I could decipher his last comment, Charlotte giggled and dropped down to her knees. Blake unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and pulled himself out. I drew in a breath through my teeth and dropped the camera face-down on the rug.

Before I got another look, Charlotte lunged forward and slobbered over the organ like a heifer taking her first salt lick. She lapped and slurped and pumped its base with her fist, groaning like was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

Blake threw his head back and moaned, the vibration in his voice going straight between my legs. My heart pounded so hard, they could probably hear it from where they stood. He snapped his hips in a deep thrust that I thought would have Charlotte gagging, but she sped up her ministrations, taking him in like she’d had years of practice. I bit down hard on my lip to stifle my own moan. Blake was losing his composure, and so was I.

My breathing went ragged. I’d never seen someone giving a blowjob. Not in real life, and not with so much enthusiastic abandon. Charlotte’s lips and tongue slavered over his thickness, and Blake cupped his hand around the back of her neck and sped up his thrusts. She clung to his hips, and with a harsh, guttural grunt that made my nipples tighten, he climaxed. Thick globs of fluid poured out of the corner of her mouth, and her throat flexed as though she was swallowing bucketfuls.

Blake withdrew, still hard and flushed. “I’d say that was a job well done.”

“Aren’t I always good?”

“I can honestly say that Lottie Underwood is the very best fellator in Elder House.”

She drew back. “Only in Elder?”

The good-natured bickering continued while Blake tucked himself back into his pants. I tried slowing my breathing, but my heart still galloped like an out-of-control racehorse. They were conspiring against Henry. Using Blake’s influence to manipulate a relationship with Charlotte. I shook my head. This was spectacular ammunition, and I couldn’t wait to use it as leverage.