Page 6 of Vicious Little Games

Her response comes way too fast, just like I would if she ever put a hand on my dick. The only way that would ever happen is if she were trying to rip it off.

“Good, because other than me, there are no men around here stupid enough to ‘lay a finger on you.’” I intentionally use Dante’s vague phrasing. “Well, except for maybe some of the neanderthal guards.”

When Cass doesn’t immediately respond, I reconsider my statement. It takes me longer than it should to reach the conclusion thanks to my hard cock robbing my brain of much-needed blood.

“Holy shit!” I exclaim. “You're running around in a tiny cockteasing bikini for the guards? The same guards who would gladly get on their knees and lick every inch of Dante’s shoes if he told them to?”

“It's none of your business what I wear or for whom.”

Damn. She didn’t even deny my accusation. Cass is actually trying to fuck one of the guards. Possibly more?

Maybe they already have.

Why does that make me want to go bash some heads together and then bury them six feet under in the middle of the desert?

“Maybe it’s not my business, but you know exactly what Daddy will do when he finds out his little girl has been spreading her legs for men on his payroll. Does that make them whores if they’re also getting paid to screw you?”

I wonder if Dante would let me help Eli torture them in the basement before killing them. These are men he pays to protect his family, screwing one of his daughters behind his back? It’s wrong. Most of them are in their thirties or forties, married with families, while Cass is barely old enough to drink. It’s fucking disgusting, like they’re taking advantage of her even if she begs them for it like a little slut.

While I’m lost in those sorts of thoughts, Cass slides off her float and into the water. She’s faster than she looks as she swims toward me. And stronger.

One second, I'm standing next to the pool, contemplating torturing guards, and the next, she's grabbing the back of my calves and lifting me up off my feet, tossing my ass into the pool. I sail over her head and the float before belly flopping hard. I barely remember to hold my breath in time before my face hits the water.

As I blink away the stinging chlorine from my eyes, I’m asking myself if the crazy bitch really just soaked my clothes, my shoes, and my goddamn phone. And for what? In retaliation for calling her slutty ass out?

I had assumed that ruining my clothes and phone would be the end of her temper tantrum.

But no, I’m definitely wrong about that.

As soon as my head resurfaces, I barely suck in a breath of air and shake the water out of my eyes when the homicidal redhead appears in front of me. Pressing both of her palms to the top of my head, she dunks me back down into the depths of the deep end.

It's already a pain in the ass to try and swim while fully clothed, but now I'm getting fucking pissed. Cass caught me off-guard twice. That shit won’t happen again.

My feet hit the bottom, helping me surge up to the surface. The next time my head bursts out of the water, I lunge for her. Grasping her shoulders, I shove her down under the water and then grab her wrists, that are still flailing at me.

When she comes up gasping, I yell at her through the droplets of chlorinated water distorting my vision and burning my nose, “Are you fucking insane?”

The answer to that question is apparently yes, because she continues to fight me until I slam her back against the pool wall with my bigger, heavier body while pinning her hands on either side of her head.

“Let me go!” she demands through her clenched teeth, legs bicycling to try and knee me in the balls.

“Make me,” I reply. “You tried to fucking drown me! And my damn phone is probably ruined.”

I'm happy to see her makeup is running in black streaks down her cheeks and that strands of her soggy crimson hair are hanging limply in front of her face, having come loose from her bun. I hate that the freckles over her nose and cheeks are sort of adorable.

“Poor baby.” She pokes her bottom lip out, making me want to bite a chunk out of it.

Somehow, she knows the exact words to say to piss me off. I’m not ashamed of growing up poor. It’s just infuriating that she doesn’t know or care about how many people have to struggle to scrape by in life while she’s always had anything and everything she’s ever wanted.

Since I have her firmly in my grasp, I expect her to surrender, knowing that she's not going anywhere until I let her.

I’m so fucking wrong yet again.

The little bitch headbutts me, her forehead colliding with my own, stunning me into letting her hands go so I can focus on not sinking underneath the depths of water again or going unconscious as the patio spins around me in a circle.

By the time I've recovered, Cass is swimming over to the ladder on the side of the pool to climb out.

“Oh, hell no.” I surge up, still dizzy, grabbing her hips and pulling her back down into the water. “This isn’t fucking over,” I warn her.

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