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“Do you have a free pass?” I ask her bluntly.
Her gaze slices away from mine, and she just nods mutely.
What the hell did Bianca do to get it?
Principal Windsor isn’t done talking, though. “For those of you with free passes, when it’s time, you’ll follow Professor Vaughn—ah! Here he is now in fine form this morning, I see.”
At this, the remaining student body swivels around to look at the entrance of the cafeteria just as Professor Vaughn walks in. His gait is stilted and stiff—as if he's wracked with pain—and the grimace tattooed into his face supports this. A tremble of irrational rage rips through me.
Who hurt Professor Vaughn?
I glance back over at Bianca, who's wearing the same fierce expression and shake my head. On the one hand, I detest the man with every fiber of my being, but on the other, he's like Cashel and Bentley—I don't want to see anything happen to them. A silent groan catches in my throat at my jumbled thoughts that are even too confusing for me to sort out in my mind.
How can I like three men so much, but hate them so viscerally at the same time?
“Finish breakfast and go get changed. The game will be shortly underway!”
The screen in the front of the room finally goes blank, and I swear a collective sigh of relief ripples through everyone in the room, including Professor Vaughn. I try to catch his eye, but he’s staring blankly into a wall straight ahead of him, his mind, no doubt, playing whatever horror the sadistic principal cooked up.
A female guard strolls by, distracting me as she snakes out a hand to curl a fist into my tangled ponytail. She yanks back viciously, startling a yelp from me. I blink in confusion at the attack before I realize it’sher—the bitch who copped a feel. “Morning, gorgeous. You and your roommate finished? If so, I’ll take you both back to your rooms to get changed.”
Her offer feels anything but gallant or professional—not that anyone here in Bitterwood would pass an HR test. For some strange reason, my immediate worry goes to Bianca, who is much softer than me and has seen God knows what. That, coupled with my eternal guilt, forms a ready lie that tumbles from my lips. “Bianca’s still eating, but I’m done. Let’s go.”
My tone is cold and challenging, but I can’t help being confrontational. Everyone at this asshole school just keeps taking and taking and taking. They want us to push back—they’re looking for a fight—and I’ve tried to stay under the radar, but not today. For the first time since I arrived at Bitterwood, I don’t feel so alone. Deep down, I still know it’s just me against the world, but I feel a tie to Bianca and Professor Vaughn.
To Bentley and Cashel.
The guard smirks, like she knows exactly what I’m doing, and runs a hand down the front of my very rumpled uniform until she reaches the hem of my short, plaid skirt. With no hesitation, she lifts up the hem and cups my bare pussy, squeezing hard.
“We’ll wait,” she counters, “and while we wait, I want you to come all over my fingers so I can lick them clean—I’mhungry.”
Around us, students are freezing, watching the drama unfold. It doesn’t take long until all eyes are on me—and the guard’s hand. I twist my head to the right, and from the corner of my eye, I spy Cashel and Bentley rise from their bench in unison. To everyone else, it just appears like they’re getting a closer look, but I know that’s not the case. This guard is fucking with their property, and those two assholes don’t share with others.
I shake my head, warning them to back off. The last thing I need is more guilt, especially when everything inside of me is already twisted up in confusion. Bentley frowns, but Cashel fuckinggrowlslike a feral animal. It echoes around the room, causing the students around him to ease away. To my absolute surprise, the boys sit back down, Bentley pulling Cashel, but Cashel’s face promises retribution and pain—whether it’s for me or the guard, I don’t know.
Relieved, I finally relax my head, waiting for the guard to make her move, and inch my legs apart under the table. “Well, where’s this breakfast orgasm you promised me?” I drawl in contempt.
She sneers down at me before releasing my pussy. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind.” I tense, wondering what her game is now—there’s no way she gave up that easily. “I want your roommate to make you come, instead. Why do the work when I could watch the show?”
Bianca and I both become still as statues, unease clearly spreading through us both. I’m not opposed to an attractive woman touching me on my terms. But sitting in the middle of the cafeteria, forced to be finger-fucked in front of the entire student body by my roommate—who hates me—while her boyfriend whose dick I’ve had shoved down my throat, whose hands I came all over, watches hungrily across the room really doesn’t equal consent. The thought nearly makes me howl with laughter. Fucking Bitterwood is the only place in the world where no consentisconsent.
“Well, what are you waiting for, girly?” The guard snaps at Bianca. “Or do you want to return to the catacombs?”
Immediately, Bianca pales and jumps up like her ass is on fire. She towers over me, twin looks of despair and determination etched into her pretty features. “Sorry,” she mouths as she slips a delicate hand under my skirt but the guard interrupts.
“Actually, let's have you both climb on top of the table so everyone can see. Make it good for us girls, or you’ll have hell to pay.”
I move first, using my chair as a step, then pull Bianca up with me. She reaches for me again, and I stare into her brown orbs as her fingers tickle the opening of my slit, still responsive from last night’s games. Her eyes widen when she easily slides a finger into me.Great.Now my roommate thinks I’m wet, either from her or this fucked-up little game. She wiggles her finger around with obviously no idea how to get me off, and I nearly giggle again.
Hasn’t she learned anything from her boyfriend?
Taking pity on her and this entirely messed-up situation, I whisper, “My clit.”
Understanding washes across her face, as if Bianca just realized that chances are, how she gets off, I’ll get off—minus all the kinky shit I’m into. I simply wanted to remind her that, anatomically, we’re the same. Hopefully, she takes the hint and uses how she comes to finish me because this whole debacle is becoming too much to bear. The weight of everyone’s stares nearly makes my knees buckle.
With her brow furrowed in concentration, Bianca circles her thumb over my clit, her one finger still buried deep inside of me. I screw my eyes shut and think of last night—it’s the only way to get this over with. Instantly, an image of me on my knees before Bentley and Cashel as they mouth fuck me comes to mind. A gush of warmth pulses through my center, and I hear Bianca gasp quietly. She slides another finger into my pussy, and this time, I rock my hips forward to meet her delicate thrusts.
She doesn’t fuck me hard enough to get me off, but her touch is almost teasing—maddening, even. If I don’t move, I’ll never end this humiliating torture. So, I stand there in the middle of the cafeteria, humping my roommate’s hand while she attempts to get me off without even a first date. This time, I do lose it and crack up. My eyes fly open at the collective hush around me, and I know everyone is staring like I’ve lost my mind. Fed up, I take a small step closer to Bianca, and hook one leg around her waist, giving her better access.
