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I still have zero clue who she is, sosugaris as good a name as any. She seems to take it as an endearment and leans into me, encouraged.
"I was just wondering who let her in here, dressed like that," she snorts, wrinkling her nose.“She looks like a beggar.”
I am astounded by the cold wave washing over me, first, because it’s uncharacteristic. It takes far more than a little slight to piss me off; considering my family history, I had to develop thick skin to make it out of childhood relatively sane.
Secondly, she also happens to be perfectly accurate about the stupid dress. I was noticing the dreadful tent just seconds ago, too.
Yet for all that, something in me turns hard.Cruel. It’s all I can do to stop myself from reaching for a fistful of her silky hair and pulling it hard, shoving her mouth to my crotch. Make her take all of me deep in her throat until tears run down her cheeks and she cries out for help.
We’d see who’s the beggar after all.
I do no such thing. I don’t want her anywhere near my cock. I just want her to suffer. And something tells me she might enjoy my brand of crazy a little too much for it to be an efficient lesson.
Instead, I choose to do the one thing women like her can’t stand.
"Well, Vi let you in too, despite your cheap plastic tits." I smile. "She's generous like that."
Butterfly Tits takes a sharp intake of breath.She’s used to being praised, complimented, worshipped.
"No one likes a jealous bitch,sugar," I drawl, getting up to move away before she can rub her two braincells together to spark an answer.
I'm the good Goltz, sure—that doesn't necessarily make me a goodperson.
If she’d insulted someone they liked, my older brother would have made her humiliation public, while my little brother would likely have caused bodily harm on top of it. I'm only considered nice bycomparison.
As I walk away, I'm startled to realize that I am indeed protective of Sarah Andrews, though she is truly no one to me. Otherwise, I'd let Butterfly Tits spew hervitriolas she rubs herself all over me. I add that piece of information to the strange puzzle I'm drawing where her highness is concerned.
Part of me considers walking to her, saying hi, asking how she's doing, but in truth, we don't have anything in common. I don't know her. I don't have anything to say to her. Small talk is as appealing to me as drinking cow piss. If fucking her were an option, I'd make myself go through it, but I know she's not down for it. And I don't seem to care either.
What do I want with her, if it's not sex?
She truly baffles me.
Or rather, I baffle myself.
"Did you just walk away from Dina Collins to hang out with us?" Damian asks as I approach.“That woman’s ass is out of this world.”
I wrinkle my nose. "Been there, done that.”
"Damn," my housemate says with a whistle. "How was it?"
Damian lives across the hall from me in the Shark House. Originally, there were only three sports teams at Rothford U: swimming, rowing, and football. The Sharks—our swim team—petitioned to form one of the seven Rothford Private Houses. After it was renovated, back when my own father attended this school, they opened the door to anyone distinguishing themselves in athletics.
I’m the only true Shark among us, but we get along just fine, although he’s envious of the steady stream of pussy crossing my threshold.
"Don't remember it." I reach for the bowl of chips he's hoarding.
"You don't remember fucking Dina Collins?" He shakes his head in disbelief.
I only offer a shrug. "I have a vague memory of hard tits? Wasn't that fun."
Damian grunts. "Fucking spoiled cunt."
Next to him, Beaufort chuckles."Girls like her are a dime a dozen."
He gets it.
I'm secure enough in my masculinity to say that Damian's hot; objectively as hot as Beaufort and I. We have different styles. Beaufort thinks he's aGame of Thronesextra, with his long hair, and I don't wear shirts unless my life depends on it—so, when I'm in my father's presence. Damian's into tight pants and band tees. All three of us are high-performing athletes in our respective fields—swimming for me, rowing for Beaufort, and hockey in Damian's case.
