Page 14 of The Bitterness of Venom

She nods, licking me through my silk panties with a groan. And then, she’s pushing it aside and feasting.

I collapse onto my bed,eyes so tired I can barely keep them open. Clint got his information. Linda wasn’t as easy as I thought she’d be. I had to get her off and drunk. Telling her a made-up story about how lonely it is to be in my position, how my husband has a secret family on the outskirts of my city. She broke, confiding in me, and with a few gentle kisses and my fingers buried between her thighs, she spilled. Telling me her husband’s secret family is right under the nose of everyone. Same hometown. What color the house is, even the names of his illegitimate children. Never thought my fingerswere that powerful, but hey…

The exhaustion weighs me down, causing me to fall asleep before I even have a chance to undress.

EIGHT

A few hoursearlier

Where the fuck are you going, Freckles?

I walk behind her as she approaches an SUV, climbing in the back and slamming the door. The plates are out of state, so I take a picture of it before they speed off. Leaning against the side of the apartment building, I watch until the taillights go out of sight.

My little Freckles is smart. I figured that out by stalking her as she went to each class today. She also has a horrible customer service smile, but somehow made decenttips on a slow night at work. The same bar the guys and I always head to after a win, and sometimes a loss. Her working there should make things…interesting.

The only conclusion I can come to is that she’s a sex worker. Why else would she speed off in an SUV this late at night? I ponder this thought as I stalk into her room. If she’s smart, she’d lock her door up. But since she didn’t, I’m going to snoop.

I open her top drawer, and like a creep, I pull out a black leather thong. She has no business wearing something like this this, so I stuff it in my pocket, trying to not think about what a perv it makes me, but at the same time I don’t really care if it does, do I?

There is nothing special about the contents of the other drawers. Just clothes. I’m not sure what I expected to find, something about her past life, maybe?

I throw the door to her closet open. Finding an old, warn boot box. Reaching up, I grab the dusty box, laying it on the bed, before getting distracted by her vanity. It holds mountains of things, but her perfume and stupid velvet choker catch my attention. I stash the choker in my pocket with her thong. She doesn’t need either of them. I bring the small bottle of perfume to my nose, trying not to groan at her seductive smell.

I slam the bottle down, hoping it breaks and no one else can ever smell her.

I need to get a fucking grip. I fucking hate this girl, but I… Am I attracted to Blaise or to the thought of putting her in danger?

I shake the thoughts from my mind, pushing open the lid to the box, which exposes a single Polaroid camera. It looks as if it’s never been touched. I was hoping there would be pictures but there is nothing else. Almost like she has no past at all. But we both know that’s a lie.

I head back to my room, not caring if she notices thingshave been touched and moved, or that I took the camera. Even better if she does. In fact, she should lock my ass out. I have no business going in there.

I lay down on my new bed, scrolling the newsfeed and making my way over to the sports section. The prediction for our football team is laughable. Even our basketball team isn’t the best. We are a hockey college and town, but sometimes the soccer team gives us a run for our money.

I’m scrolling through Instagram when I hear the small click of her door. I pause, listening closely. I expect a shower to turn on or something, but nothing happens. I sneak out of my room and into hers. Her feet are hanging off her bed as if she’s fallen asleep where she lays. Her outfit has changed. Not the work uniform she went out in. No, this is a come-fuck-me dress and stripper heels. And with the way her legs are spread, I can see her small little thong.

My dick comes alive even though I don’t fucking want it to. Knowing that she was out fucking someone else makes me irrationally jealous, and yet…

I move closer, pulling her thong that I stole out of my pocket. Reaching inside, I free myself, running the cool leather over my dick. Next, I push her dress up to expose the lush curve of her ass. It’s all I need. No fantasy or another mouth around my cock. Just my hand, her thong, and the view of her ass. My strokes become harder, and I can feel my balls tingling. At the last second, I make a rash decision. I spill my seed all over the hair cascading down her back.

If she’s going to be someone’s cum dumpster, she might as well be mine.

I love the ice.The fresh cut of my blades against it. The way the puck slaps against my stick. I love everything about hockey. The brutalness of it all. An outlet for my adrenaline high. So, why the fuck does it feel so boring lately?

Granted, we’re only practicing, doing off-season scrimmages, but still. I live for the sport. Or I did… until…

The coach blows the whistle, signaling us to hit the showers and get the fuck out of his face. Coach Boomer is a hard-ass. Which may be why I like him.

Back to my little problem in the form of pink hair and hidden freckles. I let the thoughts consume me as I take a shower and get ready for the day. Ignoring Jasper’s hateful glares as I walk to my Range Rover. He can screw off. He has no clue what he’s getting in the middle of. Old wounds need to heal. And by heal, I mean she needs to pay. Pay for breaking my fucking heart.

I park on campus, slamming my door as I take a deep breath. I should have just pulled her scholarship and let her disappear, but I couldn’t. Not with the perfect opportunity laying itself in my hands. I’m supposed to what, let it slip? Hell no.

I’m going to fuck her up inside out. Leave her feeling the same way she left me.

Broken.

NINE

Today has been fucking weird.I woke up with something in my hair. Probably from my job last night. Who the fuck knows. And then when I arrived on campus, people… smiled at me. Smiled. At. Me. It made me uncomfortable. I didn’t like it. And now, Jasper and several other of his hockey buddies have decided to sit with me at lunch.

---