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The others laugh, applaud Baron’s cunning, and recount the lunchtime triumph while Baron sets down his duffle and pulls out what looks like a black tablecloth. He doesn’t participate or gloat the way Duke would, but he lives for admiration in a way none of his brothers do. He’s like one of those serial killers who gets caught because he can’t resist explaining his genius to the less intelligent or taking credit for the cleverness of his kills. He has the mind of a killer, the intelligence to elude law enforcement. But when the entire country is caught in the simultaneous grip of terror and awe over his strategic, brilliant mind, he’ll want the recognition.
If their mom didn’t hug Duke enough and that’s why he turned out that way, then she didn’t praise Baron enough. People think Duke’s the attention whore, and in a way, he is. He draws the attention by being loud and wild, stupid and crazy. But it’s Baron who soaks it up, who lives to be worshipped and adored.
“Where the fuck is Gideon?” Duke asks, thumbing through his phone.
“Probably with Harper, asking her how to put in a tampon,” Cotton says.
DeShaun laughs. “Dude’s a real pussy.”
Baron gives me a little push. “Go pick up that chair and Duke’s bottle cap while we get ready for you. We don’t need to leave the library trashed.”
It’s just like Baron to want everything tidy, but also want to leave a puddle of cum on the librarian’s desk.
I trudge across the room to retrieve the chair Duke kicked. I imagine swinging it around, taking them all out with it before they knew I was even planning it.
If I could get Baron, the rest would probably leave me alone as they scrambled to save their psychotic ringleader. But if I didn’t hit him hard enough, if I didn’t knock him out or if he saw the chair coming and ducked or fended me off… Well, what he did in his hallway when I asked to date Rylan would look like a warm-up. If I disrespected him in front of his friends, especially now that I’m their whore, he’d probably kill me. Knowing Baron, he’d shove the leg of the chair inside me and fuck me with it until I bled to death. He likes shoving random objects up girls for fun.
I shudder and trudge back, replacing the chair. It’s better to play along. It’s almost Christmas, and after that, there’s only one semester to go. If I’m as boring now as I was as their queen, if I lie there like a corpse while they fuck me, don’t fight back, and act like I don’t even know I’m supposed to be humiliated, they’ll get tired of me after a few times.
“On the desk,” Baron says, leading me over. “Bend over.”
He rigs up the curtain while I pull my jeans down and lean over the desk. I fold my arms under my head and try to go somewhere else, somewhere that I don’t hear them laughing as they get the hole aligned.
“I wish we didn’t know who it was,” Cotton says. “That would be hotter.”
“That would defeat the purpose,” Baron points out. “She’s Glory Hole now. That’s her only job. And yes, you have to fuck her this time.”
“Really, man?” Cotton whines. “I just wanted to watch.”
“I could give her something to knock her out,” Duke says from somewhere beyond the curtain, in the dark library. “Whatdoes it matter if she’s awake or asleep? The pussy’s open either way.”
He’s right. I could almost go to sleep here, lying on my arms on Mr. Delacroix’s desk. I kind of like the arrangement. It’s peaceful back here, easy to detach from their voices. But I know Baron’s going to go first, and it’s going to hurt if I don’t get myself mentally prepared. I close my eyes and let myself slide into the memory like I do the cold bathtub at home. Except this memory is warm and golden like the light dancing over my skin in Cotton Montgomery’s pool house.
I can almost feel Colt’s eyes on me, the weight of them, the heat. I let it shimmer along my limbs, nestle in my core. The voices in the library are further away now. They’re laughing, clinking their beer bottles together, trying to humiliate me with their words that I don’t even hear. I hear the music from the speakers, the soft rustle of fabric. I feel the hard floor under my bare knees, the way Colt stood over me like a king, and I thought he’d make me blow him, but when I tried, he told me to take my hands off him. I feel how hot that made me, to be denied something instead of forced into it. I was feral for the taste of him, the smooth warmth of his skin on my tongue.
A tremor goes through me, pulsing in my core, when I remember the first time I saw his piercings, how they felt against my tongue, my throat, my clit.
I’m warm enough that it barely hurts when Baron thrusts in with no preparation. I bite down on my tongue against the pain, but after a few passes, I’m wet enough to take the sting out. The others are laughing, and I squeeze my eyes closed and bite down harder, tasting the salty animal blood of my body. I focus on that, on my mouth, swallowing, breathing. If I focus entirely on my top half, it’s almost like the bottom doesn’t exist.
Duke’s worse. He does other things, sucking and licking, biting and teasing, dragging me back into my body over andover. Thankfully, that only keeps his interest for a minute, and then he’s ready to fuck me too. I picture myself out in June Bug, with the top down, my hair blowing. I picture my brother beside me in the passenger seat, changing the music to his playlist, trying to rap along and failing atrociously. Before I know it, Duke’s done. Then he’s on the phone, yelling at someone, but I don’t pay attention because someone else is inside me.
They thought I’d hate this, but it’s way better than what I used to have to do. I like that there’s barely any contact. DeShaun’s always nice, quick, just there to get his nut. Cotton prefers to watch, but he’s under orders tonight. I know him too, though, know what he needs. If I go completely limp, he’ll be fast too. And then it’ll be over, just like that.
“What the fuck?”
The loud voice booms through the library, and I wince, my whole body tightening up. Cotton swears and pulls out. “Dude finally shows up,” he grumbles. “I was about to cum.”
“Not his fault you’ve got ED,” Duke says. “Come on, Gid. Step right up and visit the Glory Hole.”
“You said dinner,” Gideon snaps.
“Yeah, change of plans,” Baron says.
“You can eat her out if you’re hungry,” Duke says. “Just slurp up all those babies.”
He jams his fingers into me, and I bite my tongue again, forcing myself not to speak, not to move. My arms are going numb, so I switch them, then lay my head back down. My elbow bone is pressing into the desk, and I focus on the ache there instead of the one inside me.
“It’s a Sloppy Lo,” Duke says, cackling and moving away. “Get it? Like a Sloppy Joe.”
