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“Fine. The fuck are you talking about?” I snapped, already irritated.
This morning started so damn well. Pretty girl in my bed, made her come a few times, savoring the need to get closer to her in all ways. My name emblazoned across her back. But this little shit I shared DNA with brought it all crashing down.
“I’m gonna go...” Wrenlee slithered from my lap and landed nimbly on her feet. “I’ve got uh, an assignment.” Her shirt rode up–my shirt–and I stared at the pair of my boxers she had on underneath.
Pretty sure she gave my bro an eyeful too.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WRENLEE
The Kingsman house hadn’t changed a whit since I was last inside it with Brett. Watching him bounce a girl on his dick while I held a hand to my bruised face. Beau was who reminded me of my brief time there, though I never stayed with Brett. House rules and all, or so I was told.
I naively believed him. The stats that came up on his side...I didn’t want to know them. I did hear he transferred across to another school shortly after. Some fiasco about getting a Rippton U girl pregnant, or not. I couldn’t work the lies from the truths and in the end I gave up on all of it.
Walking away from the Kingsman house today might have been hard, but I felt like Brett's phantom watched me the whole time, and I hated it.
“Good to have you back. And look at what you’re wearing. Where’s my shirt?” Isla plucked at my borrowed jersey, then my boxers.
“Uh, somewhere on the floor, maybe?” I winced and tired not to look at her.
“And you spent the night with Mister Lancaster. That’s our girl, back in the game with a good hard and fast fuck you fuck.” Effie ran to the window, pushing it open and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Hear that, Brett? Fuck you!” she screeched into the early evening.
I winced. “We’ll end up with fines applied to our dorm,” I cautioned her.
Rippton was full of pretend princesses and princes, all perfect on the surface but once you delved lower...it was game on, dirty talker style.
“Oh, yeah. Forget him.” She found a bottle of cider in the fridge and held out a second to me.
I nodded and sighed. “May as well.”
“You’re not going back there tonight?” Isla eyed me curiously.
Another wince from me. “I take it the no girls rule was more of Brett’s bullshit?”
She nodded, grimacing for me. “Yeah. That was never a rule. Those boys are manwhores. I mean, I'm sure he’s not. He used to be. But then he has you and ... shit.” She buried her head in her hands.
I patted her back sympathetically. “His brother is a little stalker too,” I informed her. “Oh, hey. Leon loved your jersey.”
“Ohhh, Leeeooon,” she chorused together, falling about in a fit of giggles while I rolled my eyes.
“Yes, Leon. Please grow up.”
“I mean, we just want to see you happy. And Brett did a mindfuck number on you without all the pretty rules to go with them.” Effie nodded sagely.
I blinked. “There’s rules to mind-uh, fucking?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s usually part of a scene, sexually talking. In the wild though...peeps do it all day at work, in relationships...like yours. And no one tells you when the game is up, and you can trust your surroundings, or not again.”
I canted my head to one side. “That seems fair.”
“It is.” She beamed at me.
“Good and all but...this girl has to study because my daddy doesn't have endless coffers to throw dough at the dean.”
Rippton was formidable for accepting lucrative bribes. Pity we didn’t have enough cash left for that, and so I studied my ass to the ground like every other college kid in the US. My habits were a rarity on my campus.
“Fine, study time it is.” Effie grabbed herself a fresh cider and kicked me a textbook. “Wanna test me?”
