Page 9 of Soul of a Psycho

Fuckkkk.

Just the thought of her dragging her pussy across my body has me bracing against the tiled stall. I hang my head and let the water cascade around me, but it only gives me a clear view of how hard I am. Jesus. My fingers twitch as I picture her perky ass walking away from me. I could have stopped her in a heartbeat, hauled her back to the crumbling stone wall, and bent her over it. One tug and those shorts would have been gone, forgotten, discarded in a pile of leaves.

I grip my dick and bite my lip at how overly sensitive it is. Fuck, she has me on more than one edge.

I would have slid down her body till I could tear that thong from her ass with my teeth. She could fight me all she wanted about ruining her clothes. I would have carried her back, her chest pressed against mine and my hoodie zipped around her, my dick still buried inside her.

I hiss as my hand does what it wants and slides up and down my length. I never do this. My mind is typically preoccupied with more insidious things, but I can’t stop myself. I barely stopped myself when I was watching her talk to that damn leaf. The only reason I spoke up at all was so I had a reason to not do it—to not watch her from the shadows while I touched myself to the way the moon illuminated the sweet spot between her legs.

I grow ravenous as the water creates the perfect slip for my dick. As much as know the way she looks at me is a lie, I wouldn’t fuck her from behind. I want to feel her eyes on me, and I’ll take the deception if that’s all I can get. I would turn her around, revel in those big brown eyes as they take me in, and then push inside of her. I would make it my mission to transform her false gaze into something real. I would get on my knees between her legs and run my tongue up her slit for eternity if it made her truly want me.

I groan. I can practically taste her, and I pant against the tiles, gripping myself tighter and tighter, going faster and faster until she’s my only thought.

“Sky…” her name slips from my lips.

My mind is all over the place, picturing my tongue inside her, her thighs shaking around my head, and imagining what the back of her throat feels like on the tip of my dick, her lips dripping with my cum.Look up at me from under those lashes, Angel. Don’t ever stop looking at me.

I shudder as my dick twitches in my hand, my cum shooting out, and I slump against the wall.

Fuck. What is happening to me?

Chapter Eight

Sky

I’m having the best dream. One where I’m feeling things I haven’t felt since before Chase. One where I’m crying out in pleasure instead of fear. One where an incessantthumpingis annoying me. What the heck?

I peel my heavy eyelids open, losing images of Cade that I shouldn’t be having anyway, and squint at Ruby’s alarm clock. It’s only seven a.m., and I still have an hour before I have to wake up. But someone is banging on… a pot?

“Up and at em’, girls!” a woman hollers from beyond the door.

“Ughhhh,” Ruby groans and throws her pillow at the door just as it opens. The black cased pillow lands at the feet of a mountain of a woman that’s clutching no other than an actual steel pot and a wooden spoon.

“Five minutes, girls!” she bellows and tucks the pot beneath her arm before snatching the pillow from the floor and throwing it back at Ruby.

“God! Are we not even afforded sleep in this place?” Ruby picks a different pillow and holds it over her head.

The woman rolls her eyes and backs out, closing the door behind her.

“What’s going on?” I croak as the banging starts again.

“Fucking authoritarian diplomacy at its finest,” Ruby grumbles from beneath the pillow.

Well, that doesn’t help at all.

I’m dressed only three minutes later, despite how desperately I just wanted to fall back asleep. I’ve never slept that good, like my typically tense muscles finally relaxed and my brain actually shut down for once. I wonder if Ruby will ask for the vape pen back, and how much she would want for it if she does.

She still hasn’t gotten out of bed, and is instead scrolling through her phone as I run a brush through my hair. I don’t know about her, but I’m trying to not get in trouble, so if the woman with the pan wants me up, I’m up.

I don’t need anything going back to my father—if my tardiness hasn’t already. I glance at my phone on the nightstand, probably near death since I haven’t charged it since being here, and think about checking it quickly, but then decide against it. If he wanted me to have to listen to his scolding, he shouldn’t have sent me off to a boarding school.

I don’t bother plugging it in either. No one else has the number, anyway. I changed it after the catalog of obscenities that flooded my messages. I just couldn’t stomach it anymore. The ones from people I had never even spoken to didn’t bother me that much, but the ones from people I thought were my friends maimed me in a way that I don’t think I’ll ever recover from.

I slap down my hair brush and grab the phone, quickly putting it in the drawer before my thoughts spiral any further. I’m thousands of miles away from all that, and I don’t need any reminders of it tainting my life here.

Ruby groans at the sound of the drawer slamming shut, and finally gets out of bed. She’s in an oversized band tee that is sofaded that I can’t make out the writing on the front and knee-high socks that have bunched up around her ankles.

“Could you be any louder?” she snaps at me, and starts rooting around in the pile of clothes on the base of her bed.

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